Tomorrow, we go Barcelona. It will be a brutal morning. We are leaving the nest at 6:40 am- the underground to Termini, Termini to Fiumincino, and then to the land of wine in leather pouches. What will we find there? Javier Bardem in leather pants, smoking a cigarette and offering sesso? Probably not. Whatever happens, I live for the Weekend Trip (WT). It is a bite- sized bit of happiness. The WT, if done correctly, is affordable, exciting, and fodder for the next social occassion. As Chris McCandles, explorer, said:
"the very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun."
And so tonight I will refill my little navy bag with toothbrush, confirmation number, and ipod, and get into bed, awaiting the madness that is to come. It may not be the Alps, but it will be something.
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