Greetings from Sunny Barcelona

This week we've developed, and lost again, a burning love for:

- Manchester, England England.

- olives.

- Guacamole.

- Norweigan.

- T-Röd.

- Spanish "falafels".

- the daily nighlife of Barcelona.

- peanuts.

- Circle of goddamn Death.

- common sense.

- don Simon.

- English duchebags.

- unsufficient knowledge of the English language.

- sleeping all day.

- free drinks.

- Plaça Reial.

- man-free enviroments.

- silent pre-parties.

- the Barcelonian fitness-mania.

- strange public art.

- nearby web cafés.

On the other hand, increasing daily is our love for:

- Emil Jonsson.

- Feasts.

- Hillbillies.

- the slaughter district.

Panasonic for Life

One would probably not be exaggerating if one were to say that the past five days has been the most eventful ones in the life of 'Anna the Boat'. There's been crazy nights & disasterous days, sunbathing, crossword puzzles, redecoration, spartan cooking, theft, some good & a hell of a lot of bad ideas, covering up, Anchovies Olives, Polish cousins, early morning bathroom needs, IKEA-questing, crazy hairy scahmpoo-stealing fast talking too-close-standing shower ladies, minor accidents, litterary running from Italian guys, towel losing, ghost finding, expected blonde invasions from the countryside & near death experiences due to lack of common sense. Let's just say we brought the party & it's here to stay.

So far we've learned:

- that we're not in Sweden just because it smells like it.

- quite a few of the many usages of water bottles.

- in this country, the three little words 'We speak English' mean nothing at all.

- that living on a boat makes you sea sick on dry land.

- how much we've been underestimating the intruiging minds of sea folk: Anyone naming their boat 'Gay Ola', 'Snoopy III', 'Fish Buddy' or 'Hard2Please' is, per definition, interesting.

- that our bad luck affects even hich tech cyber café systems.

- that drowning electricity tends to be unwilling to cooperate.

- that Taylor Hanson's killer looks stay unaffected through all elements.

- that standing straight should be, but aren't always, a human right.

& that it takes quite a lot to sink even the smallest boat.

We´ve also managed to forget the official language of a small northern counry known as Sweden.

We've also found our little family already much increased in numbers. We are now happy parents of Zara the Sopa, Jonte the Plant, Signe the swimming carpet, the boat ghost & Mr Kaffe.

& so we´re feeling surprisingly at home in this strange place where 4 apples cost you 2€ and 36 drinks cost you nothing, the amazing concept of a Butcher's Shop / Café is actually successful, it doesn't seem to matter that you tell strangers that you don't speak Spanish / stops to even answer them back - they can keep a conversation going for hours, it costs 4€ to sit down on the beach, guys whistle at you even at your ugliest, not a single restaurant can be persuaded to serve you any kind of food between the hours of four & half past eight, clubs open at 3 AM & closes at 7 & the sink needs to be emptied by hand.

Actually we're just relieved that Mr J stays unaware of what's going on on his precious Anna af Herrvik, kajplats 1318, Port Olímpic, Barcelona, Spain. 'Cause what happens on the Boat stays on the Boat.

Yo, what time is it? It's ... Leaving Day!

Four hours until departure. Slightly feeling like we're about to jump right out into unexplored jungle / dark water / a party where we're not invited / outer space. & that's probably very natural, considering the nature of this trip. You might say we haven't done our homework properly. We prefer to see it as proof of our love for improvisation. It's with our destinies as with our conversations - we make it up as we go, & what has been frowned upon more than once we see as the greatest advantage: There's just no telling where we might end up.

SkÖÖÖnt.