Back in Barcelona...

anonymous log entry...Barcelona June 2007

As the sun goes down behind the last line of waves in the Mediterranean, I am only waking up. The first blow of the late evening breeze hits me directly as I stand on the terrace of the lab, dizzy and tired after a day of incredibly stupid ideas, sloppy programming and unavoidably dissapointing results. The night falls, the horizon dresses in orange and purple and my mood throws down its blue gown. The 24 hour day is still young. I ride my bike by the sea shore, Arcade Fire pounding on my mp3 player, thoughts become clearer, scientific issues seem to resolve themselves miraculously and the heavy veil of dizziness is suddenly lifted. "How come I havent thought about it before?" This idea deserves a beer! As I skillfully avoid crashing against a bus and hitting an old lady crossing Passeig Joan de Borbo I have already set the date through a network of expanding sms. I arrive at the Rambla de Raval sweaty and starving, half of the people are already here and the feast of spicy, indian masala, catalan beer and conversations in five different languages begins. As the Greeks and the French realize that we share 90% of the jokes, the Spanish and the Germans that they are more alike than their complexions might have implied, the Portuguese make fun of the way the Brazilians speak and vice versa, we find ourselves lost in the small streets of Raval and then on the other side of la Rambla in the Gotico. We bearly escape a storm of water falling from the sky only to understand the residents are aiming at our precious heads, so full of worl-changing ideas, yet equipped with overwhelmingly loud vocal chords. We decide to keep it down as we enter "13" bar and the noise resumes as soon as the first round of mojitos arrives. It must be past midnight but who cares? Scientists never stop working, so no guilt about connecting simulation models to football strategies, or calculating the conditional probability of picking up the girls at the other side of the bar. As the probability increases asymptotically with the number of mojitos, we only realize the night is getting old. The dawn finds us on Passeig Maritim, the sun is going up behind the distant buildings in Forum and we are already on our way to the lab. The day is only beginning in Barcelona. Someone else may tell you how it is going to be, but my guess would be at least interesting.

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