It's been three and a half months since I came here. I've come from getting lost everywhere I go to now giving directions (quite unsuccessfully may I add) to other clueless souls. A lot can change in such a short time. When you first arrive in a new city you're in awe with anything and everything it has to offer. You marvel at the buildings and you admire the people speaking in their foreign language. But after a while you start to know the place, and everything starts to lose its magic a little bit. Las Ramblas is just a street you cross everyday on your way to school (and in all honesty, a place which, when you live here, you much rather avoid) and slowly but surely you understand what the people are saying - turns out they weren't all declaring their love for each other. You start looking at the tourists with their cameras and you have no idea what it is they are seeing.
So, this weekend I decided to give myself a wake up-call. I took my camera, I stepped out of the house and - just as in the early days - aimlessly walked around. Allowing myself to really look at everything: appreciate the tiny alleyways, wonder whose laundry is hanging to dry (even though it's the middle of November) and smile at the Catalans displaying their independence flags. And when I came home at the end of the day I had learned how truly important living in the moment is. Because before I know it, I'll be back in cold and rainy Holland, wishing I could step out the door and see all of this again.
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