we gave back the key to our miniscule loft on the morning of the second day of the year 2008. we wanted to stay until the very end, just like when we had arrived almost two years earlier when, wanting to move in as soon as possible, we had slept on towels and sheets because our mattress hadn't been delivered yet.we celebrated new year's eve with a couple of benjamines, personal-sized bottles of cava (the spanish equivalent of champagne) and twelve wishing grapes each. we could barely hear the crowds of drunken people just a couple of blocks away, muffled by the thick walls of our old building into a quiet rumbling sound. the next day the streets were dead silent and the thick rug of broken glass that covers las ramblas every noche vieja was swept up and taken away by an army of small BCNeta! trucks as if nothing had happened.
the woman from the rental agency appeared at our soon-to-be ex-address at ten sharp and rang the alarmingly loud intercom. the space looked just as we had found it: empty, except for a ladder that we had lovingly added and two-month-old coco, fast asleep on her little raft, floating peacefully into oblivion. apparently, the lady was in a hurry and matter-of-factly rushed us out, slamming the door and ushering us out of the building into the now bustling street.
we wanted to take one last walk around before squeezing into our previously packed car and driving an hour or so to reus, where we would hibernate for a month, waiting for coco to be old enough for traveling overseas. it's very unsettling to feel so vulnerable in your own neighborhood, to have to pee and not be able to do so in your own bathroom. and i had to pee. so, we went to the only place that we knew we could count on near plaça catalunya, even though i always complained about it, el corte inglés, the famous spanish department store.
it was crowded, as always, and we waited while the sluggish elevators opened their doors to spit people out and gobble them up again repeatedly until it was finally our turn to be squashed with strangers. upstairs there was a very long line for the restroom, and by the time i was done, coco needed to be fed and changed. so we took the elevator again, which took infinitely longer than the first time, to the diaper changing station located on the children's level. there was also a lactation room, so i figured i should pump for coco's next feeding while we were there.
when we finally managed to step outside the five-level store, several hours had elapsed, it was getting dark outside and it had started raining heavily. after helplessly waiting for the rain to cease, we made a run for it, feeling horribly irresponsible for not having a rain cover for the stroller and trying our best not to fall on the slippery pavement.
we were drenched when we got to the car. we were so tired and so sad that it was actually quite comical. we drove slowly in the dark with the car's yellow lights illuminating the raindrops that the windshield wipers immediately swished away. coco was asleep and we drove in silence. then, two little bright white dots appeared in front of us. they kept growing and growing until we realized that a car was coming toward us on the slow lane of a four lane highway. i was so scared that i didn't even scream, i just thought this is it. cars kept passing us on the left, leaving no room for our red golf, but panzón managed to change lanes at the very last second and we made it.
yes, leaving barcelona was hard.
