In Which I Speak No Catalan

Tonight is my last night in Barcelona, which has so far been incredibly good to me. It's a lot different than I imagined it would be from Mom's pictures and the way she described it, but in a good way. As much as she loved this place, it didn't particularly appeal to me. But now I have been converted! It's a lovely, vibrant place, fantastic for peoplewatching... I'll definitely be sad to leave, and I've still got stuff I want to do when I come back. Pictures forthcoming.

Tomorrow I leave for Madrid - I'm taking the train, and it'll take about 3 hours, which seems like not very long to get halfway across the country. I guess the train just must be really high speed? In any case, I'm seriously excited. It'll be a nice trip through some lovely countryside, I think, and at the end of it I'll be in Madrid, where I've wanted to go for a long time.

A big reason of why I'm excited for Madrid is that I speak, like, three words of Catalan, the language here in Barcelona. Yeah, everyone also speaks Spanish, but. I feel bad not trying in Catalan. At least I speak enough Spanish to make an attempt once I'm back where it's the main language. Even if my Spanish skills are hilariously bad. I'm just hoping they'll find it charming.

Monday I find out how my TFA interview went. I'll keep you all posted...