barcelona summer

Without rushing to pack his luggage, he went to the bathroom to wash his face.

The bathroom is public. There are two cubicles, two sinks and a shower room. It is very clean and no one is using it.

Walking all the way, he listened carefully to the sounds around him, and realized that he was probably the only guest, and he had the illusion of monopolizing the entire hotel.But I have to say, this feeling is good. Although the hotel is small and shabby, it has a great atmosphere.

After washing his face, he remembered that he didn't bring a towel, so he waited for the water droplets to evaporate by themselves.He looked at his face in the mirror, his eye sockets were a little sunken, his chin had already grown stubble, he took a deep breath, no, he still looked so haggard.

He wanted to smoke again, and subconsciously reached for his trouser pocket, but only found a hard iron box.

It's lemon drops, the doctor suggested, saying it's best to have something to chew on when quitting smoking.

Doctors also say that people may gain weight after quitting smoking.

He is not afraid of dying from lung cancer, but he is afraid of gaining weight, because it will not look good. As a writer, he has an almost paranoid pursuit of beauty.

After the water had evaporated, he went back to his room and changed into a clean yellow and dark green vertically striped half-sleeved resort shirt—the white shirt was too formal, and besides, it was sweaty.The trousers were not changed, because the trousers themselves were casual.He found a pair of dark glasses and sprayed some spray sunscreen on his face in a random way-he realized that he had to spray some, otherwise the Barcelona sun could burn him red and black in an hour.

Finally, he put on his mobile phone and earphones, room key, wallet—he had already exchanged euros, lemon candy, and went out to the lobby downstairs.

The smell of food is wafting in the lobby, which is the taste of hometown.

"Haihong..."

He smiled, remembering that his parents used to make this kind of mussel food for him when he was a child, it was delicious.Thinking about it this way, he felt a little hungry, but the hotel does not serve food, as it has been stated in the precautions column of the travel website.

He left the hotel and went out to find a restaurant.

It doesn’t need to be so formal as a restaurant, there must be some stalls by the sea selling hot dogs or sandwiches.

Eventually, sure enough, once he got to the beach, he found a hot dog stand.There are many people on vacation on the beach, and there are also many mobile vendors, selling hot dogs, fruit, sunglasses and sunscreen, all speaking a language he can't understand.This language is very interesting. If French is very gentle and English is very serious, then Spanish is born with a kind of enthusiasm, just like this beach.

This is a beach on the outskirts of Barcelona, ​​with a long coastline, where you can bask in the sun, swim, or surf—and there are quite a few people surfing right now.He knew nothing about the sport, the only knowledge he had was from the movie "That Summer, the Sea of ​​Tranquility".Thinking of this movie that ended in tragedy, and looking at the energetic crowd under the golden sun at this moment, he put headphones in his ears and played a song "ANEEDA LOVESTORY" with a moderate rhythm.When he heard this song while playing games, he liked it very much, so he kept listening to it...

Accompanied by the melody of the song, he took off his shoes and socks, stepped on the sand with bare feet, and walked while eating hot dogs.Along the way, most of the people around are only wearing swimsuits, the women are fat, and the men are about the same.He wondered why everyone was so fat, and then he saw that everyone was eating and drinking, all of which were high-calorie foods, and he understood.

But there is no way, high-calorie food is delicious, isn't he also eating hot dog sausage?No one can resist the temptation.

He walked on, eyes on those who were battling the waves.

Almost all of them are men. It seems that there is no female surfer among these surfers, which is a bit strange.He thought of the female high school student who had a crush on the protagonist in "[-] Centimeters Per Second", and thought that girls surfing is also very handsome. Red and white surfing suits would be very suitable for them. There are also white surfboards. Among the blue waters, they will become a landscape.

As for the male surfers, he wasn't very interested in them, purely on the principle of same-sex repulsion, maybe a little jealous, jealous of their vitality.As for him, he didn't like sports since he was a child, and he liked reading more.His only exercise was probably an hour from home to the city library, where he found a few books and an hour back home.He had to because his family was poor when he was a child and couldn't afford books.

Of course everything was different now, and he made some money writing books, enough to travel to Spain for a month.But he still loves to go to the library, just because he likes the atmosphere in the library, and he likes to find precious books there that cannot be found elsewhere.For example, once, he found a copy of "The Lying Woman" by Sophie Marceau. This book has long been out of print and cannot be bought online, but the quality of the book made him ecstatic, as if he had discovered a treasure.

Some people say he is an idiot, why would he buy books or go to the library when he can read pirated copies online? Wouldn’t it be a waste.He didn't bother to respond to this, just a little sad.As a writer, he knows very well that there are all kinds of people in this world, and people will never understand each other. It is this that he mourns, not that people call him an idiot-in fact, others call him an idiot , he was proud of it.

After one song was played, he changed to another song, a Chinese song, "Fever" by Soda Green.He likes sodagreen very much, and he has all their songs on his phone, but at this moment, a kind of sadness is inexplicably born in his heart, and even this fast-paced "Fever" can't dispel this sadness.Is it because of being alone in a foreign land?Or is it because of the fatigue of the journey?Still worried about your illness?He didn't understand, really didn't understand at all, he just listened to the song and continued to watch those athletes surfing.

Then he thought of an explanation, so he took out the little tin box of lemon drops and dropped one into his mouth.

An hour later, he returned to the hotel.

The lobby was still empty and there was no one there.Why is the law and order here so good?Innkeepers never have to be where they are supposed to be?As soon as he thought this way, the man came out from behind the curtain with a cup of coffee in his hand.

Their eyes met.

A man's eyes are really sharp and restrained, and they don't pry into your heart.It's just that it was too indifferent. In just a second, the man looked away, sat in the seat behind the counter, and started typing on the computer.

He didn't know what the man was doing, whether he was writing novels like himself.He was about to go upstairs when the man suddenly said:

"The guest just came back from a walk?"

"Ah... yes..."

Unexpectedly, he stepped on the steps with one foot and looked back at the man.

The man stared at the computer screen all the time, but his mouth opened and closed, clearly talking:

"First time in Barcelona?"

"Yes, it's also my first time in Spain."

"how do you feel?"

"good."

"..."

The man hesitated to speak, and he didn't say anything.After a brief and embarrassing silence, he walked upstairs again.

A weirdo, he thought.

Back in the room, he left the window open and lay down on the bed.He stared at a crack in the ceiling, thinking about something, but not thinking about anything.Looking at the sky outside the window, it was a different blue from Beijing, and looking back at the same ceiling, he gently closed his eyes.

It was already dark when he woke up, and when he looked at the time, it was five minutes to nine.He sat up, feeling thirsty.There was no water in the room, so he went downstairs to the lobby.

The man was still sitting behind the counter, facing the computer.

He went straight to the cold drink cabinet at the door and took out a bottle of mineral water.

"how much is it?"

he asked the man.The man took a look:

"1 euros."

He fished out a one-euro coin and put it on the counter.

The man puts the coins in the drawer.He unscrewed the bottle cap and gulped down half a bottle of ice water, very refreshed.

"Better drink slowly."

The man suddenly spoke.

"what?"

"Otherwise it's bad for the stomach."

Strange, he thought, how can a man see that his stomach is not good?In addition to lung disease, his stomach is always at odds with him, and it will go on strike at every turn. In addition, his spine, wrists, and eyes... He is simply a collection of diseases, all of which are blamed on him working at his desk for hours every day.

"Oh... I see... Thank you..."

"You're welcome."

This man's Chinese is still pure, and the Spanish flavor is not particularly strong. Hearing the local accent in a foreign country makes people feel that he is not abroad.

He originally planned to buy water and go upstairs, but at this moment, the sadness returned again. He was a little lonely and wanted to talk to this rare Chinese.

"boss."

"Ah."

"You are Chinese, right?"

"Correct."

"Where?"

"Yunnan."

"I'm from Dalian...why did I come to Spain?"

He wasn't really curious, so his tone was very restrained, as if he was talking to himself, and it didn't matter if the man answered or not.

The man looked up at him.As for him, he drank another big sip of water, thinking that it would be normal for a man to say "None of your business" rudely.

But the man didn't. The man answered his question, but it was almost as if he hadn't answered:

"All kinds of reasons."

"Oh……"

It would be boring to chat any more, he knew very well that this man was as cold as himself, so he felt a little sympathy for each other—cold people are often misunderstood and considered unreasonable, but the fact is that they It's just that they haven't met anyone worthy of making them emotional.

He went upstairs and returned to his room. On the way, he saw a few foreigners. Judging by their skin color and body shape, they should be surfers.They went to the bathroom to shower and met him in the hallway, greeting him warmly, but in Spanish he couldn't understand.

He replied "Hello" in English.

Back in the room, he opened the suitcase, took out a chapter of "Dream of Red Mansions" and read it.Cao Xueqin's talent is beyond doubt, and it is not too much to say that he is Shakespeare of the East, but it is just a pity: his articles cannot be translated, and only Chinese can reflect their beauty, so most people in the world cannot enjoy the beauty brought by it. The joy, the pity.