Hero of my journey

This is it. I´m now on my own, flying solo in Barcelona. James and I just parted ways at the airport after leaving Ibiza at noon, and I almost had a nervous breakdown on the plane. My hands were sweaty and cold, and my heart was beating so fast it was like I was going to go bungy jump or what! I thought I was going to cry when we had our goodbyes and hugs but I guessed my head was more racing with anxious thoughts on 'what´s next' and 'what the f%ck have I done?' Hah!

Before I could chew off my fingernails, I got on the train and found the boutique hotel Banys Orientals near the Ribera area easily without studying my map. The room (90 euros) was lovely but the view sucked as the windows opened to a depressing view of a dark gloomy side alley. The first thing I did was turn on MTV and admired the Philip Starck Ghost series chairs, big-ass rain showerhead and large double bed.

With no appetite, I just wallowed in bed and hatched my travel plan tomorrow - to head straight for the heart of Provence in Avignon. I hoped to do some last minute research at the internet cafe and decided how I could fit Figueres in too. It´d be cool to visit Dali´s Museum and his tomb in the quaint town north of Barcelona, and then move on to France.