And here in Spain I am a Spaniard

Early morning Barcelona airport
 

I flew to Spain on Monday, travelling via Barcelona and Santiago de Compostela, and will be here for another 4 to 5 weeks, or at least until spring shows its pretty face. I'm here visiting my brother in the lovely (and small) seaside town of Cambados (Galicia), and can see the Atlantic tide come in just outside my window.
I figured a relevant trip-related post was surely in order!

Grandaddy - Aisle Seat 37-D
Miles high
Stalled above the sea
Aisle seat 37-D
The hard guys that are crying quietly
And the mom's lost in shock will never see
Me sittin alone
Wearin head phones
Smiling slightly as we
Fall toward the sea

And I'm havin a glass of red wine
Tryin to find a picture of you
While everyone's goin insane
I feel that I'm staying reasonably calm
And now the pilot's reciting a prayer
But I'm so not there
And I really don't care

Cuz the picture of you I couldn't
I finally found
So everything's fine
And the picture of you I couldn't find
I finally found
So everything's fine
While faster we fall toward the sea
I'm ok cuz yer with me
Here in 37-D
 

10:45 to Santiago


Bishop Allen - Flight 180
how disconnected I can feel on the ground
it's like I'm shining all alone
and I don't wanna be
so
before I go to bed tonight
  I'll signal up to the passing flights
hit the lights
the lights
the lights
the lights ...

This beautiful song was once sent to me by the person I miss and will continue to miss (a LOT) while I'm here...

The Decemberists - Here I dreamt I was an Architect

And here in Spain I am a Spaniard
I will be buried with my marionettes
Countess and courtesan
Have fallen beneath my tender hand
When their husbands were not around
But you, my soiled teenage girlfriend
Or are you furrowed like a lioness
And we are vagabonds
We travel without seatbelts on
We live this close to death  

 

The Modern Lovers - Pablo Picasso

Well some people try to pick up girls
And get called assholes
This never happened to Pablo Picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare and
So Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole

Apart from the rather obvious Spain connection, I included this as I missed seeing Jonathan Richman in Barcelona by exactly 8 days. This makes me sad.

Touchdown coffee in Santiago de Compostela