it�s raining. but it�s not copenhagen rain, and it hasn�t been relentless. while we kicked stones by the mediterranean and sat by the marina, with variations-on-the-strawberry-theme in cones, the sun and warmth suited perfectly. while we ate our first real spanish meal under umbrellas, rain made soft comforting noises without getting us wet. altogether, it�s been lovely.

travel made yesterday seem inordinately long. heather and i flew separately from andrea; we reconvened in the airport later than expected because of various delays, and finally got to the hostel, only a block from the cathedral in the gothic quarter, after midnight. our cab driver insisted the place didn�t exist so we were rather gratified to find it: and it�s clean, and colorful, with cheap breakfast. at the moment, a british couple behind me is playing scrabble, heather and andrea are drinking tea and scribbling away in journals, and bjork is crooning.

i clap my hands with joy whenever i see palm trees. when i wasn�t paying attention, heather took a series of photographs of my getting acquainted with one particular one near the aquarium (someone who�s been here: is the aquarium worth $11? we couldn�t decide.) like seasoned travelers, we�re conquering the city on foot, and as we strolled through Parc de la Ciutadella, admiring the gorgeous fountain and declining offers for weed, we tried to remember the words to piano man and american pie. andrea�s still working on that now: she has her headphones on and keeps saying things like, ��paul is a real-estate novelist. paul! who�d have thought?��