Now that the very beautiful and insightful din and hum of the Ramblas, the Barri Gotic, Montjuic, the Barceloneta, et al. has receded — the clink of sangria glasses, the smell of the sea side and its restaurants, the giggling of the children at the Joan Miro, the cries of the seagulls and the rose peddlers on St Jordi’s day, the accoustified street music in the ancient corridors around the Catedral, the roar of mopeds, the eye dazzling architecture of the Eixample and the Sagrada, the high pitched squeak of the peddlers’ neon projectiles, the slippery murmurs of the fast-moving shell games — now with the perspective that only comes with miles and miles and time, it is time to let Barcelona breath and dance on her own with these images (the moon comes later, but no matter) ~

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