What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

Observatory

So This Happened

At 7pm Monday night, Pete and I were at an impasse, arguing about possible ways of escaping the country. Sick of the dark days and apocalyptic storms and floods, tethered by commitments, we tried to find a travel date but couldn’t find a day before October. I felt that given my condition there was little likelihood of me ever travelling again. Something broke and Pete suddenly decided we should go – right now. ‘You’re just sitting there not writing and being miserable. You can afford to get us onto the next BA Business Class flight.’
The first available flight was early the following morning. Check-in opened at 6:00am.
 
We spent a frantic evening filling out forms and arguing on the phones, trying to get all the clearance codes and pay endless fees to Bozo the Clown’s chosen private companies; his old Bullingdon pals and their banana republic business schemes. It came to a fortune – no wonder nobody’s flying. Plus I had to get doctors’ authorisations and permission to carry syringes on a flight, then arrange my return jabs – how do families cope with all this?
 
The airports turned out to be the easy part. There was no waiting, although a lot of people had set off without all their documentation, so a special line for them had been set up. As always, the European end was smoother and better organised than Heathrow.
Then I was off the plane and into my street.

Slippery Slope

It’s been two years since I was here. The flat is like Miss Haversham’s wedding table, with more plumbing problems. Oh, and our funky, wiggly stairs with no bannisters (terrifying at the best of times) have suddenly become a death trap. Suddenly I was forced to used atrophied muscles. I managed well and walked further than I thought I could, then disaster struck from a most unlikely source. Sand.
 
When I stepped onto a beach, my tingling, numb feet sought purchase on it, found none and threw me to the ground. With Pete’s strong arm I was eventually able to master a slow drunken walk but I decided it would be easier if I could swim. I felt like the Little Mermaid returning to the sea – but I couldn’t stand up to get back out of the water. I tried to drag myself out but it was impossible to stand up unaided.
 
Barcelona has plenty of holidaymakers in August, mostly Latino and French but no English, and other nationalities and groups are missing. Many of my favourite restaurants and shops have gone. Signs of economic hardship are everywhere. The city looks the same, just a little shabbier. The endless street cleaning services have vanished, the ladies with palm-leaf brushes and the water-sprayers seem to have gone. Empty buildings mean more graffiti, a tidal wave of day-go trash-talk rising to smother the erudite architecture. 
 
But Barcelona is built on the slope of a mountain, and the higher you go the smarter it gets. In Eixample and Gracia and Zona Alta there are no problems – it’s the predominantly British tourist areas that have been allowed to decline. We left Europe, so why should they care about us? Half of our nation opted out, and with a sly nudge from the Tories a few more votes were miraculously found to push it over the line. We left, not because the public wanted it but because a handful of corrupt politicians could make a lot of money.
 
But such thoughts effervesce and vanish in the light of the all-forgiving sun.

59 comments on “What Could Possibly Go Wrong?”

  1. So glad you got there!
    I have just finished London Bridge and it is a worthy finale. It couldn’t have ended any other way: perfect. Thank goodness you’ve written 20 of them, so that I can start again at the beginning. Thanks so much for all the pleasure Bryant and May have given me over the years.

  2. Tim Lees says:

    Enjoy everything you can. Wonderful you got away. But keep writing the blog — it’s a wonderful collection of pieces, funny, informative, sometimes a little sad. Wishing you and Pete the very best.

  3. So glad you made it there! You deserve to relax in the sun…

  4. Ed+DesCamp says:

    May you both have a wonderful break in the sun. All the best from the Pacific Northwest, and thanks once again for all the joy you’ve given us all.

  5. Helen+Martin says:

    What do you think, Ed? Are they going to open our border so we can go south or are you going to have to convince them that you are a safe person and come north?

  6. Ed+DesCamp says:

    I’m safe, but can’t travel right now – the better half is dealing with a few issues. We’ll get there sooner or later!

  7. Ed says:

    ‘But such thoughts effervesce and vanish in the light of the all-forgiving sun.’

    Have you read the Marseille Trilogy by Jean-Claude Izzo? Beautiful writing about the Mediterranean coast.

  8. Jack Critchlow says:

    Good grief, is London Bridge ‘it’ then?
    Have read all of the rest of your wonderful B&Ms and am about to start LB but a hint above suggests it is the last. Say it isn’t so.

  9. admin says:

    Jack, it’s not my choice (see blog entries passim)

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