barcelona summer

In the next few days, the weather was fine, and he went to the city of Barcelona alone for a stroll, visited many museums, art galleries, churches, and even went to the Nou Camp, which is the home stadium of the Barcelona football team.The stadium is very spectacular. The fans are all wearing red and blue uniforms. Sometimes you can see many people wearing them when walking on the street. It is not too much to say that the Barcelona football team is the symbol of this city.It's a pity that he did it on a temporary basis, and it was impossible to buy a ticket, otherwise he really wanted to go inside to watch a game.

Wandering around the city during the day does not have any purpose. When you are tired, you can find a square or garden to rest, and you can sit on any step.This city does not lack people of other races, let alone tourists, as long as it is within the limits of the law, he can do anything. Unlike China, Spain is a free country without so many artificial taboos.

He was also impressed by the food here: he ate very late, and lunch often didn’t start until two o’clock, and every meal was so rich, with a lot of seafood, as if he didn’t need money of.As for him, he is weak and eats little, and he is often so full that there is nothing more to put in the plate.

And wine, he has never seen a country so fond of drinking, walk into a small restaurant at random, the shelves behind the counter must be full of bottles, wine or champagne, and sometimes see a family of several people eating together, even a few Older children will take a sip.What's more, someone uses a kind of leather wine bag, similar to the one used by ancient Chinese Mongolians. He once read about it in Hemingway's novel "The Sun Also Rises", and he did not expect to be lucky enough to see it today.How should I describe it... It can only be said to be very wild.Fortunately, there are not many modern people using leather wine bags, and a glass of wine at lunch is enough.

All this exoticism made him happy, and he browsed the city as if he were a tourist—and he was, but many people don't think of themselves as tourists when they travel abroad, but always think of themselves as tourists at home. things.He is not like this, he has left everything behind: his books, his illness, his loneliness, his old age...

He is afraid of getting old.

He is 27 years old. He can say that he is already 27, or he is only 27.What is the difference between the two?There is no difference, 27 is 27, nothing will change because of the statement.The problem is mood.For example, at this moment, he thinks that 27 is still quite young. When he sees a pair of elderly couples walking together on the street, he feels that he is still a long time away from them.

But when you're in a bad mood, the number 27 is an eyesore.I'm going to be old soon, he thought, it's nothing, it's just that there are still a lot of things that I haven't done, and there are still a lot of happiness that I haven't enjoyed, so I'm getting old like this?When he saw middle school students going to and from school on the subway, he really envied them for being so young.I really want to go back to the past, to redeem all the mistakes I have made - such as smoking.But it's too late, it's really too late...

So he wrote some of these books, about how the protagonists go back to the past and how to change the future, and they were well received, and the popularity surprised even him.

"Forget it, don't think about it anymore..."

Sitting in a small garden, he thought to himself looking at the dragonflies flying around.

"It's boring to think too much."

He stood up and walked towards the next unknown intersection.

It is impossible to stop thinking, and the only way to save yourself from endless worries is to read books.Reading is to let others (authors) think for yourself. Of course, the premise is that the book is well written, otherwise it will only make people sick.

So when he stumbled across a small bookstore, he walked in without hesitation.

In a bookstore that sells Spanish books, none of them he can understand, and the price is expensive, with an average of ten euros per book, but he still bought a book by Marquez Garcia, "One Hundred Years of Solitude".

"Although I don't understand it, I can always make a souvenir..."

While waiting for the change, he muttered to himself and smiled helplessly: No one in China is waiting for him to go back, and he has no one to give him souvenirs...

Suddenly he was very disappointed and didn't want the book anymore.

Back at the hotel, he changed into light clothes and went to the beach again.

After a while he found the surfers and their girlfriends.The girlfriends were sitting on the shore, playing with mobile phones just like the Chinese (this surprised him a bit, he thought that Europeans seldom play with mobile phones, and it turned out to be the hardest-hit area for mobile phones).He greeted them and asked if they could sit next to them.

"of course can."

With big smiles on their faces, the girlfriends asked him to sit down.The girlfriend of the Madrid surfer pointed to the book in his hand and said:

"what is this?"

"This? A book, to be given to Garcia." He made it up casually.

"Why him? He never reads."

The girls laughed and mocked kindly.

"It's okay, it can be used as decoration. The author of this book is also named Garcia."

"Oh……"

The girls laughed again, talking to each other in Spanish that he didn't understand.Out of politeness, he didn't ask them what to say, but one of the girls couldn't bear it anymore and told him in English:

"We thought you liked Garcia."

He thought he heard it wrong, and looked at the three girls in a daze.

The girls laughed again:

"Haha, don't worry, homosexuality is normal in Spain and we don't have any prejudice."

He still doesn't understand how to give a book and become a favorite. Is there such a custom in Spain?

"Don't worry, it's just the imagination of a few of us, haha."

Another girl said:

"However, compared to Garcia, Roland is more suitable for you, that is, the hotel owner. After all, you are all Chinese."

He thought of a word: rotten girl.It seems that corruption knows no borders, so he was relieved when he thought about it, and said with a slight smile:

"I see, but you are wrong, I don't feel that way about men."

"That's a pity."

"What a pity?" he asked.

"It's a pity Roland, how lonely he must be alone."

"What? Is he..."

The three girls looked at each other, and then at him at the same time.A Barcelona girl said:

"You don't know? About Roland and Pedro?"

He shook his head.

"We thought you knew... That's right, Roland and Pedro are a couple. Pedro is a Spaniard. Both of them are famous surfers. Later, they opened the current hotel together..."

No wonder the name of the hotel is Pedro & Roland, he thought.

"and after?"

"Then Pedro had an accident..."

The girl's complexion darkened, and she shook her head lightly:

"It was a rainy day, and everyone else stopped surfing, but he insisted on training, because there will be a surfing competition in the near future... But surfing on a rainy day is dangerous, and all surfers know that..."

She didn't go on talking, presumably because she was sad and didn't want to look back.

"Anyway, Roland was alone afterwards."

"When did this happen?"

"It's been three years."

"Then do you know how old Roland is?"

"Like 27?"

What a coincidence, the same age as myself.But I didn't expect that I have already experienced the death of my lover...

He thought of that rainy day when Roland sat alone on the beach and looked at the distant sea, thinking of that loneliness.Then I thought of everything the author of "One Hundred Years of Solitude" in my hand had experienced, and suddenly felt that the difficulties I was facing were too childish to be worth mentioning.

The surfers are back, each finding their own girlfriends.Garcia didn't have a girlfriend, so he sat beside him, patted his shoulder and said:

"Long time no see, where have you been?"

"Downtown, I'm a tourist after all."

"Haha, I always forget this, except when I see your skin is so white."

Without denying it, he handed him the book in his hand.

"For you."

"What? This is."

"One Hundred Years of Solitude."

"Pull it down, I can't read such a thick book."

Garcia made an exaggerated expression, which amused the girls, and they said in unison:

"Look, just say he can't read."

They are going to eat at an open-air restaurant.As for him, it wasn't long after he ate, but he followed suit.Others ordered a lot of food and drink, but he just ordered a glass of juice.At that time, the sun was setting, and the noisy beach gradually became quiet, and the sky and the sea were dyed with a layer of soft gold, just like the champagne in other people's glasses.A wonderful evening, people enjoy such a tender time, they forget the hardships of life.He really wanted to know what the parents of these young people did. They must be very rich, but he felt embarrassed to ask directly.

He remembered a lyric:

When you were twenty,

When you hold wealth in the palm of your hand, tomorrow is full of hope,

When love comes to you unexpectedly and brings you endless sleepless nights,

When later life seems full of smiles mixed with joy and hope and foolishness,

You should drink your youth till you are intoxicated,

Because every minute and second of our 20-year-old is precious,

Once gone, never turn around and wait for us...

He thought of Roland.

Does he have dinner alone?Will you have some wine too?Does he read or not?How to solve the problem when suddenly missing the old person at night?

His thoughts left the table and wandered to the little hotel.Although the hotel is old, it is well maintained and pleasant. They must have built this hotel as their own home, right?When there are no guests in the hotel, the small two-story house is indeed their home.Which room do they live in?Do you come to this restaurant during your break?

And the surfing that connects the two, will they surf together and compete with each other?He doesn't understand how points are calculated in surfing competitions, but winning or losing certainly doesn't matter. Lovers—whether they're male or female—don't care about winning or losing, and it's always been like this.