Tolstoy writes, “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” You see, I’ve always wanted to quote Tolstoy and casually slip in that yes, I am reading Anna Karenina, but it’s a good thing that quote is the first sentence of the book because I haven’t gotten very far. Yet, the quote resonates with me because, while I can’t speak for any other family, my family is happy. Like, suspiciously so. Especially when we are together. We all not only love each other, but genuinely like, and enjoy spending time with one another. And it’s not just my nuclear family, but it’s all the aunties and uncles and cousins and partners and long time family friends and whoever else decides to tag along. We have a great time. It’s weird, right? So you can imagine the time I had for the past week, palling around with this favorite person or that favorite person, especially after traveling alone for a while, I felt like I belonged. It’s a nice feeling.
Yet, even with the people we love, things don’t always go to plan. (One of my) favorite little cousins (ok she’s not so little but ya know) and her girlfriend came down with Covid. Major bummer. Miraculously, nobody else got it (yet) and we kept on keeping on. Because she was sick, my cousin offered me her ticket to do the tour of Park Guell with my aunt and uncle (her parents). My cheap ass wouldn’t have bought the tour, but sure because it’s there, I’ll take it. So she sent me her ticket and I went to the meet up point for the tour, but couldn’t find my fam. Apparently Park Guell has many entrances and because I had used the ticket (for 4 people), my aunt and uncle couldn’t enter at another entrance, effectively barring them from entering and leaving me to enjoy the tour on my own.
My family is the type that would be more upset if I didn’t enjoy the tour (for 4) on my own than try and meet up with my aunt and uncle who decided, the good sports they are, to go on a bus tour instead. Park Guell is one of the most brilliant parks I’ve ever seen experienced, because it was a failed rich person suburb and was designed by Gaudí. I mean, man. If you haven’t heard of the guy, check out his works. Pure fucking genius. And not in a pretentious, obnoxious way, but a way that utilized space, resources and gave the greatest homage to nature, which again, in his eyes was god, but I’ll stick with nature. My favorite part of the park was a tunnel that was shaped like the barrel of a wave to give tribute to nature. I also loved the intended marketplace, that had a roof that collects rainwater, is tiled to keep produce cool, and uses simple decorating techniques to make it look bigger than it is. Everything, down to the last detail in this park, is exquisite. Once again, ironically, I had to internalize it all by myself, but after ranting and raving about my tour all night, my aunt and uncle (and mom and dad) booked a tour for the next day.
The other super cool thing about my family is that people are like, “I’m doing this! I’ll be here at this time anyone is welcome to join.” And whether anyone or no one joins, it’s all good. So we had a super relaxed time, full of options and fun things to do with fun people, but no obligations and no hard feelings. Want to sleep all day? Fine! Shop til you drop? Show us what you got! I am not trying to gush, but I don’t know many families, let alone friend groups, who are so supportive and easygoing with one another.
I know you’re sick of hearing me gush about my family, except that with a few exceptions, my family are the only people who read this blog, in which case I’m sure you’re saying, go onnnn…
Partay people
So I have to tell you about the party. The actual time and place I booked three months in Europe around. I rocked up to said party solo because that’s how I roll, hiked up 6 flights of stairs to the roof top bar because I hate elevators, only to find the door to the rooftop access locked. So I trudged back down to the lobby and took the elevator, and arrived to the scene super sweaty and mildly out of breath. The elevator opened up onto a shaded rooftop patio, with a cool breeze blowing, golden sunshine glowing, and full of friends and family I love or knew I was going to love. MDMA doesn’t have shit on that feeling.
The bartenders joked with us in Catalan, Spanish and English, the servers served the most ridiculously delicious tapas after tapas, and the company, well, let’s just say Ian’s nomad backpacker surf bum sister was the outlier. Yet amongst these brilliant musicians, doctors, world sailors, animal healer and trainers, therapists, social workers, academics, successful retirees and like, people at the absolute top of their game, everyone greeted me and my journey with curiosity and enthusiasm. It was wild. I saw people who I love but hadn’t seen in ten years. I’m big on connections, so to reconnect, to dive deep real quick (maybe not tactfully, but genuinely) was really special to me. And not something you can do with a new friend, easily. So yeah, I was on a roll that evening. The staff had to shoo us out when the music turned off at midnight, but we were all having such a great time, we went to the hotel bar for another drink. By this time people started to splinter off, but the core crew ended up dancing at the gay bar til about 3:30am, when Ian dragged me off the stage to go home (which is only a slight exaggeration).
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