Day 92. Saturday 7 June.

A special day in the calendar, acknowledged with a video call first thing (well, early for us). Just lovely to catch up with the birthday girl and little sister.

D did a recon to the railway station ahead of our departure on Monday, trying to get a handle on the sections of our walk-train-train-walk journey to Terminal T2 at El Prat de Llobregat Aeroport, which will take the best part of two hours. Just hoping the train system doesn’t crash like Friday!

After coffee, a stroll through the old town, walking past old men and women and boys and girls on the avenue and through several plazas, where folk were beginning to gather for eating, drinking, and just socializing. The old part of town is rather lovely with curved streets of colourful apartments and small shops. There was a sense of family and community, and the ‘vibe’ was one of peaceful mixing. We did come across our final cathedral for this trip, Parroquia de Sant Antoni Abat, but didn’t enter. And D spotted a car with more scratches than poor Josie.

A quiet afternoon: D on a device, T on a vice.

And a decision: don’t chance the long and semi-complex train ride – Uber is booked.

A late afternoon swim – with a couple of thousand others. This is nothing like Congo, or South Durras, or Bawley Point, or Mt. Eliza Beach….. not even Noosa – perhaps Bondi? As we walked over the boardwalk, D took a couple of generalized, surreptitious photos: didn’t want to seem too obvious even then, and as we discovered later on the beach, photography would have been deemed inappropriate.

We were surprised that so many girls/women were comfortable to display a lot of body (g-strings, topless, little bikinis) while all boys and men wore boardies (no speedos). There was thumping music playing from bars just back from the sand. You could rent a group platform, a cabana, a sun lounge and umbrella; and as we stepped onto the beach there were sellers of beach towels, baseball caps, sunglasses, handbags – all laid out on the ground. The sellers (we guessed of African origin) sat or lay beside the products on a hot afternoon, with no obvious custom. The water was benign: shallow, no waves, flat with bits of plastic occasionally floating by. Groups of teenage boys played with a ball, dunked each other and shrieked, a couple practised their dance moves (until their little kids told them to stop), young girls did uninhibited handstands and cartwheels, many folk were sunbaking under a hot burning sun, there was a flotilla of littlies with armband floaties and presumably the lifeguard in the watchtower was awake.

An evening on our deck, listening to the village below. A bit noisier than usual due to the presence of a small group of early teenage boys. Noisy, but not offensive. Haven’t they got devices to look at?

Dinner. Tuna and pasta salad, with lots of other stuff from the depleting pantry.