I totally ate one of those when I wandered away from the group on our hike.
Best I can piece the last 48 hours together, I met a nice elderly couple in the park who gave me a PB & J sandwich that turned into a paper airplane, flew it to Barcelona to meet up with my friends at Sonar, realized I was a week late, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep on the back of the Gaudi lizard.
I’ve got one helluva crick in my neck, an intense craving for morcilla, and no desire to come home.
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Notes from others: