Time to go?

After a weekend like this, it would be a lie to say that I won't miss this place. Fortunately, it's not quite time to head back stateside just yet, as I have another two weeks left in Barcelona. I think that will be just right.

On Saturday, I set out for a long weekend ride with my friend Nick, heading out into the mountains to explore. Once again, I was shocked at how cold it can get here when you leave the city and get up into the mountains, especially after a long a windy descent. Where did that never-ending Mediterranean summer go? But, after stopping for some cafe con leche and bocadillos, we were both good to go again and cruised on home for just shy of 5 hours of riding. Next time, we'll be tackling the mountain we rode to the base of this weekend, Montserrat.

It's going to be a long climb.

Today, though, reminded me again of another thing I'm going to miss: the ever-wrong weathermen. Though we have those at home too, it seems that they are always wrong in the wrong sense of the word. Here, when they say it is going to rain, it never seems to do so. At home, when they say there is going to be sun, there always seems to be rain. Go figure. But, as the saying goes, don't fix it if it ain't broke. So don't think I'm complaining about today's non-stop sunshine on what was supposedly a rainy day. My three hours of not soaking wet riding were just terrible.

Despite all that, though, I am just about ready to head home. Living away from home for four months, especially in an entirely different country and in someone else's home, does get tiring after a while. I still love it here, I still want to come back here, and I still am just as sure that I could live in Europe, at least for a time, someday. Home, though, will always be the Northeast. And though there is not one tangible thing I can say that I painful miss, home is calling. Soon enough, though. Just soon enough, actually, because I'm not ready just yet.