Saturday 5am An inner evacuation process has begun. The pup whines, looks confused, and licks the back of my leg in sympathy. 3pm I cannot stop being sick. The retching is happening every five minutes. I am puking blood out … Continue reading →
Guiri is one of those words, like feminist or peely-wally, that I want to reclaim. Locals use it to refer to tourists - you know the ones - who stick out a million miles. No matter how long I live in Barcelona, that is always going to be me.