¡Hay cameras ocultas!

Monday- I am feeling rather Dutch at the laundromat today, with my Albert Heijn bag that holds my laundry and the bottle of Spa Blauw containing the detergent I just threw into the washer. As I look around, I am faced with nothing but signs in Comic Sans, a few humming dryers and a grotesque printout on office paper- comic sans of course- warning the visitor of the hidden cameras in the place.

Saturday- The ever-changing display of a giant fish or piece of raw meat at the little Catalan restaurant on the corner of Balmes and Mallorca. „Come in!“, the dull, grey eyes on the fish seem to say, as it awaits the next morning, when a decoratively placed ribcage will assume its prominent position in the window facing the street.

Sunday- The city bus, line 54 heading towards my house from Barceloneta. With sand in my shoes I am listening to Animal Collective, while watching a little girl on the bus exploring her surroundings. She glances around and then, as if she was sure that no one is watching, slowly licks across her seat’s armrest. She takes a moment to think, then removes her sandals and starts tasting their bottom in the same way. Using her tongue to drawing a pattern into the dusty sole, she looks completely lost in the activity, while her mother steadily watches out of the window into the afternoon sunshine.

Thursday- Consumer paradise Germany. The shear amount of selection at the supermarket and the incredibly low prices drives tears into my eyes. Oh Germany- here’s to being here.

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