I´m back in Barcelona for my last few days. I ventured down the coast about five hours to Valencia with Kym, an australian girl I met at a hostel. Turns about the biggest beach party (a national party in fact) was taking place the last night we were there. In my life I have never seen anything quite like Valencia´s beach party. We left with a group from the hostel at 17h30 and stopped at the Mercadona for sangria and cheap food and whatever else we liked. Then we headed to the beach where there were thousands upon thousands of people pouring in for the fiesta. We set up camp and the guys built a huge fire. 10 km of beach covered with people and a huge stage where there were dancers and great music. It was surreal really. As the sun went down it was just silhouettes against soft golden light and the ocean. At midnight we all ran to the water, jumped seven waves, and wished. Everyone was happy. People were dancing, and cooking, and eating and just sitting and talking. But so many of them. Corn roasting on coals and sausages and ice cream stands and coolers full of ice cold overpriced (but still cheaper than anything I´ve ever seen) cervezas. We laughed and danced and I got back to the hostel in time to pack my things and close my eyes and catch my bus back to Barcelona. Tomorrow I might go back to the Picasso museum. There is too much I want to absorb while I´m here. I think I could live here.