SEPT 1st

Sept 1. Last night me and Rosie finally got on board - cars and lorries and camper vans first. Vespas last. I'm out of my depth in the bowels of this ferry where everyone else seems to know what to do and everyone speaks Spanish. It's not easy to get it all unpacked and upstairs. There are four pieces of luggage and a helmet and I'm wearing the dragster jeans and buffalo jacket which give me great protection on the road but are useless on a flight of stairs. One of the stewards takes a bag from me and shows me to my cabin. Heaven! There's my own bed and my own shower. I peel off my clothes - every thread of it is soaked - and I stand in a hot shower of relief. The arthropod that went into that cabin emerges as a human being. Two beers, a plate of chicken and chips and a long sleep full of strange dreams.

On the map the Mediterranean looks small. There's land all around it. Well I can't see any and we've been steaming west all day and now the sun is setting right in front of us. You can sit on deck and take the sun - or go up another level and take the wind. Right now I'm taking the wind.

Getting off the boat was just as stressful as getting on it. Maybe the problem has to do with leaping into the unknown. I don't know where I'm going to stay - don't know what I'm going to do - but here we are driving up Las Ramblas and 'There's a Small Hotel' I know right in the centre of town. Maybe they'll have a room? Rosie's overheating. So am I.

Have they got a room!! Only my very favourite room in the world!!! This is where I wrote the Picasso show (and when I got stuck I just nipped across the road to the museum). The balcony overlooks the cathedral and that's what it looks like from my balcony with a Spanish moon beaming down on us all.

Buonas Noces