
Art of Travel: Paris to Madrid

Day Sixteen
Although feeling slightly peeved about this major editorial gaff I decided to make the most of the situation by taking a day to delight in what ever my Calella pretender had to offer. I reasoned that it was not really fair to knock the whole “package holiday” experience until I had tried it. To be totally up front, the day spent in Calella was also avoidance tactics since I was not looking forward to the final push to Barcelona. The book says that aesthetically it is down hill from here until the city, as the route would take me through the industrialized regions skirting Barcelona.
After a late lunch I tried sun bathing on the beach until lunch, since it appeared to be the main past time with non locals in Calella, but concluded that it was just too boring, so opted to sit in the shade writing and reading, taking the occasional swim in the sea to cool down (I expect the beach in Barcelona will be too busy to risk leaving my belongings there while I nip in for a quick swim).
While walking back to the camp site passed the high rise holiday apartments I could not help noticing the number of St. George’s Crosses and Union flags hanging from balconies and thinking “What a strange item to bring with you on holiday”? Although I have heard a variety of languages spoken while wandering around here I have not seen any other nation’s members flying their flags on holiday. It makes me wonder about the mentality of such people to indulge in blatant territorial pissing? How do they think other perceive them and their behaviour? It is quite interesting.
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