From the North Cape to Barcelona, over three thousand kilometres by train to go and greet two people we had met 15 days earlier. A madness worthy of 18-year-olds, which is exactly what we were...
In 1990, having finished my high school exams, Marco and I set off on an Interrail trip, destination North Cape and all of Scandinavia. On the journey toward Rovaniemi we meet a couple of Italians, muuuch older than us, a bit naive, who live in Barcelona and offer us hospitality. Maybe they don't know that we'll take them at their word. After an exhausting journey we go from the cold of Norway to the 30 degrees of Spain.
They welcome us a bit surprised, but with great joy. And for all three days of our stay they took us around the city, showing us the best-known corners, but also the lesser-known ones. I remember they even took us to the cinema, to see Wild Orchid, obviously in Spanish.
After three days of freeloading (among other things, they're vegetarians and they always cook us strange but excellent things), we realize we can't overstay. After one last evening spent at the port trying to buy a stereo at rock-bottom prices that we then wouldn't be able to fit into our backpacks already stuffed after a month around Europe, it's time to leave. We say goodbye to our very kind hosts and then off to Italy. After all, this time it's only a thousand kilometres...
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