Barcelona, Spain, 28th September 2011

I just came back to the hostel from Hestee's hotel room. Got to shampoo my hair (after so many days I didn't shampoo), sleep on a more comfortable bed and even had home-cooked (not quite) Asian dinner (after more than 10 days). I left the hotel at around 8.30am and it was very cool. I had a nice cool walk through the shaded avenues to the metro station. All after a night of... GEORGE MICHAEL IN BARCELONA I'm not a big fan of George Michael but he's a good singer with a very smooth voice. With decades of experience, he's a natural performer. It was a relaxing concert as he was accompanied by a symphonic orchestra. Most of the songs he played were not the upbeat, fast ones but the more jazz pop types. There were quite a number of covers including Amy Winehouse's Love is a Losing Game and a Rihanna's number. His cover of the Rihanna's song was really good too. The best part of the concert had to be the one where he got some of the musicians upfront and did some fast numbers with them. Everyone just stood up and dance. Unfortunately, that was for only fifteen minutes.  The graphics for the backdrop was also very good. It's either those fancy dynamic screensaver types or pictures to go with the song. As always for a good concert, I don't want it to end. Being in the audience, I wish the concert could go on late into the night. Maybe three hours of it would be nice. But the performers would be damn exhausted. WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I went to Starbucks yesterday afternoon for a cup of chocolate while waiting to call Hestee to check if we were meeting up. When I ordered my chocolate, the waitress asked for my name. I said Imran. She said 'What?' I said Imran. She said 'I still can't catch it.' I said 'Alright then. Just make it Yusoff.' She said 'Yosef?' I said 'Yeah, will do.' Then she gave me the receipt and told me to wait for my cup of chocolate at the next counter. Went over, waited for 10 minutes and was handed a cup of hot chocolate with the name 'Joseph' written on it. ASIAN, MALAYSIAN, INDONESIAN After the concert, Hestee, her colleague and I walked a long walk in the night to Plaça Catalunya. Her room was somewhere around Arc de Triomf. That would mean a further walk from Plaça Catalunya. So, we took a taxi instead. When we were in the taxi, the driver asked, 'Malaysia? Indonesia?' Hestee's colleague said Singapore, Malay. The taxi driver made a hand gesture around his face and said something to the effect: you have a different look of Asia. By different I believe he meant different from Chinese. I liked the fact that in this part of the world, someone could recognise the difference in our features. Just the day before, in Subway, an Indian man came up to me and asked if I was Indian. That's the first time someone asked me that. I believe there were instances when they assumed I was Indian although they didn't see the need to ask. I have no issues with being mistaken for someone else as long as I don't get a xenophobic treatment. EROTIC MUSEUM Yesterday afternoon as I walked down La Rambla, I chanced upon an Erotic Museum. I wanted to go in and see what they had inside but there were people blocking the entrance, checking out how erotic the museum really was. I gave it a miss as I didn't want to push my way through the crowd to get in. Actually it wasn't really a crowd. It was only about three to five people but that was a crowd since the entrance was so small. The door was only wide enough for one and a half person. MARRAKECH AIRPORT I arrived in Marrakech from Barcelona. In Barcelona, in the airport, I told Erhan and Ömer that I would sleep in the plane and then wake up to a different land. It would be like a dream. Little did I realize that it would be very different. When I arrived at the airport, it was like another one of those airport with nothing much at the transit area, or for the case of Marrakech, before the passport control. After that, at the luggage claim area, there was only the money changer office. The shops, restaurants and offices for car rentals were after the luggage claim. The next layer was right outside the airport where people were waiting for the buses and taxis. Like the airport in Dubai, once you step out of the airport, you are not allowed to go in again. MARRAKECH MARKET From the airport we took a bus to the central area. That was where the market was. I alighted from the bus to walk onto this very big, busy square. There really was no order here. Probably an order that only the locals could understand. I was in a state of confusion. This square had a few cars, some motorbikes, a few horse carriages, many shops and so many people. If the streets in Vienna, Rome and Barcelona are like one of the small towns in Universal Studio, This whole square and the surrounding streets were also like one town in Universal Studios. The market was the right setting where Aladdin bought his magic lamp. The people were husting us. They would approach us and asked where we were staying. Which hotel, if we knew how to get there. I was really clueless and when they approached me, I would just tell them I was with my friends and they knew better than me. These folks would then go after Ömer and Erhan. After they had shown the way and we followed them, these guys would then ask for money for showing us the way. Erhan knew about this so he did not follow these guys. Instead, he would just walk away when they showed a turn and later on, came back to the place. The streets there were also like from some movies. The kind that you would expect for Ali Baba and the 40 thieves. It's like really small streets with only bicycles or motorcycles and of course people on foot. The sides were shops and the buildings were made of clay. The buildings were about three to four levels high. And some of the rooftops had activities on it e.g. Restaurants or just the resting place for some hostels, basically terraces. NIGHT LIFE IN MARRAKECH It's really crazy at night. There were just so many people. It was bustling with life, over-bustling. The square was just busy. There were parts of the square where performers would set up their ports and played traditional Moroccon music I believe. There would be people sitting around them and watch them perform. There were kids selling toys. Those which you shoot into the air and it will come spinning down and you could see the spinning light from the bulb attached to the toy. Nice toy for kids but I don't have any kids to give it to. THE HOSTEL Hostels were different in every city. In Rome, the receptionist was right beside the door and the  room was one level up. Maybe two. The beds were bunk beds. There was room service but the room wasn't really cleaned very well. In Barcelona, each hostel would occupy only half the level of a building. So, we would have to enter the building from the big door outside, take a flight of stairs up to the hostel which was supposed to be at level three but seemed more like level four or five, go into the hostel 'lobby' where the receptionist was hardly ever there, and walk into our room. The room we had had a small balcony which looked out to the road outside but the view was blocked by the thick crowns of the trees that lined the roads. There were two single beds in the room (initially three but the lady dismantled one of them since there were only two of us). The landlady cleaned the room everyday and she spoke only Spanish. I learned to say 'Hola!' to her. Maybe I should spend the next year picking up Spanish so that I can visit Spain again next year or in the near future. Actually, I'd like to see Morocco again also. The hostel in Marrakech was a different one. Marrakech itself was already different from other cities. We had to walk through the small streets and then an alley to reach the hostel. The door to the hostel was a metal one. The alley outside the hostel seemed devoid of human life, stone cold apart from occassional young men who would come and offer to show directions. The moment we opened up the door, there were these two men greeting us and the inside was carpeted and furnished. There were seats in the lobby. They brought us to our room which was on the second level. Although the building was made of clay stone, the carpet and the furnishing added a vibrance of colour that gave the place a more human touch. It's probably the style of the Middle Eastern / North African region.  The carpet and the bedsheets were colourful. Another thing about the hostel was that they didn't insist that we pay for the rooms at the beginning. But I did anyway. FOOD IN MARRAKECH It turned out to be cheaper here than in Europe. We ate so much for about €30. I didn't really want to eat. My body was out of shape. I would have to hit the gym again when I reach Singapore. Another advantage was, the food was halal. We didn't have to worry much about it.  Language wise, they spoke mostly Arabic and French. I had to speak a bit of French too. Many could speak English too. MY PLAN FOR MARRAKECH Since the entire place has an invisible order that I have difficulty understanding, I decided to just stay in the room in the day, since it was very hot, and sit on the terrace at night. All the while reading Pride and Prejudice. I would of course continue with my writing. I'll see how things turn out the next few days here. WRITING I noticed that when I write, I become more observant. Perhaps, I should continue with the writing even when I return to Singapore. I'll find a topic to write about everyday. But will I have the time?