Well it depends on what that means. I have to copy and paste this to Facebook. Sorry.

I arrived in Barcelona after a long and crushing overnight flight via Iceland. Took me a night or so to recover. Before I left I got to spend five days with Joe and Jenny and my two beautiful and fun god daughters Elena and Thea in Milwaukee.

I’m staying at a hostel for the first time since…geez. I don’t know. There are some in Guatemala. But this is the first time I’ve shared a room if you don’t count the porters when trekking in Nepal. In like, um 20 years?

I’m staying here for a week until my brother Dave comes. I am in the section of town called Gracia.

Because I’m staying more than a day or two, the other three beds in my room cycle thru daily. Because they are mostly way younger than me and here to party it’s like two (actually 4) ships passing in the night. I get up early and the others are just getting home. Israeli. British. American. You name it.

I can get just about any type of food a block or two away from me. It’s a 20 min walk to classes, we have a rooftop, and a 10 min walk to the gym. So I got my bases covered. The folks are pretty friendly and it safe. A bit pricey though.

The hostel employees are incentivized to get us to do stuff. They make dinner every night for about 3.5 euros. It’s served at 9:30. Then they organize a pub crawl AND go with us. I begged off the first night, got pulled in for awhile Thursday then last night went for the whole Kahuna.

There are three hostels owned by the same group so all three congregate in a pub around 11:30 PM then go to a club around 1:30.

So if you can picture me walking down the streets of Barcelona with a pack of 40 20 somethings you’ll get the picture.

At the pub I played pool with an engineering student from Holland that was struggling with trying to make positive change in the world without doing a deal with the devil. It was a fascinating conversation that centered around accumulation, free markets, IRR, economies of scale and greed. Why folks that have a lot need more. He would NOT let me talk about Trump. He says “we all agree he’s a dick. Let’s not waste our time.” Fair enough.

I walked to the club with Diego, a Mexican guy from Toluca. We chatted about Mexico City, Chiapas, Baja and how I feel safer in Mexico than the US.

At the club I mostly hung out with a German Med student that was astonished I was doing my trip at 54. My age came up as we had a long conversation with a jack off US college student who lived in Madrid and was here for the weekend. Without prompting, he went into a rant how great it was to spend mommy and daddy’s money and be able to have sex with anyone without consequences. As he sucked down his Budweiser (no shit the clubs here only sell Bud and Corona! WTF?) he bragged of dropping 300 euros in the bar that weekend and how his dad (who’s my age) flies to Seattle EVERY week from Philly for his job at Amazon. Um. Contrast?

I told him I was using the college money from the children I don’t have to travel. He was obnoxious, self absorbed and had no interest in Spanish. Nice.

Max (the German dude and I) waxed philosophically about Healthcare and travel. He couldn’t find an ATM so when I couldn’t drink any more Coronas (okay it was also 3 AM), I offered to lend him 20 euros so he could hang, drink, and get home. He was like, “I’m leaving tomorrow. You TRUST me?” Sure dude. I just hung out with you for three hours. Leave it at the desk as the old guy will be sleeping.

I went for one last piss before I jumped in a taxi to avoid a 45 min walk/metro home. As I navigated the dudes washing their shirts out in the sink after puking on themselves I thought about the night.

Some people may think I’m crazy. But I am traveling, having incredibly intellectual (at times) conversations with people from all walks and countries, working on my Spanish, my guitar. And my book. My brother meets me in a few days. Carpe diem.

Max came into my room this morning to wake me up and personally hand me the 20 Euros. He was effusive in his appreciation. Said he had one of the most interesting conversations of his life, is staying another day and appreciated my trust.

All that and I never had to dance…..

I’m getting into a rhythm. It’s beautiful here.

I’m leaving for an extended trip to various parts of the world on my list. This will be the second longest trip of my life after a 13 month sojourn starting nearly 24 years ago. Just saying it makes me feel…well, older.

What differences are they are other than being older? That’s a long conversation. But maybe a greater confidence in appreciating what i see. A greater discernment in the traits I see in people. A greater value for kindness I experience. A greater understanding in the importance of how and where you are born and raised and the luxury of that lotto ticket in life.

I certainly have a more distinct understanding of politics, religion, economics and environmentalism. I also play guitar and harmonica.

More or most importantly, is that I’m a travel snob. A minimalist. But I like to push my limits a bit. I’ll spend money to go farther and to be more remote. But mainly to experience a culture more nakedly. Meaning being able to drop into a world that is not contrived or presented to me. It’s hard to find many times. It requires time and a willingness to (sometimes) be uncomfortable. Both physically and socially.

I don’t travel to see the good restaurants or hot spots in the world. Although I do partake at times. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not judging anyone or putting myself above. I’m just noticing. But it is all relative to each person what that means. It’s just how I roll.

Hard travel when you CAN have a clean bed and a nice meal every once in awhile has that benefit of seeing a spectrum. Holding your feet to the fire knowing you can pull them back. Hopefully before you get burned. (Or get sick). THAT’S my drug. And I’m addicted.

I was sick for nearly two years. Now I’m not. I appreciate it. So I’m going.

After seeing my best friends (and now TWO god daughters) in Milwaukee, I’m meeting my brother Dave in Spain and Portugal for my very first independent travel in a non-English speaking country that is considered Western.

The plan is then Morocco, S Africa and the dream of a lifetime. Kicking around the mountains of Patagonia speaking Spanish and playing guitar.

Every single day will be a gift. How long? See ya when I see ya. But it will be awhile.

I have text and social media to keep in touch.

Para vivir yo necesito experiencias en otras culturas. Tengo suerte!