9:37 (Barcelona) - Last day, last hours. Yesterday the pen dried depriving me of writing. I should have said that he knew why the Milanese army. Inter had gone and a host of devastating everything tifossi passed by the station. Echoed the walls of that kind of made cathedral train station. I was there talking to members of a family in a town of Como (near the lake, an idyllic all), especially the daughter music. I surfeit of bread and onions. You could not say no.
Then on the train many races and people. I first met Mauro, Italian very quiet, he began the vacation I finished. Soon soon came the star of the Milan-Barcelona trip. There comes a mexicanAtocha, where three weeks ago I hardly go out, but I left, I realized how romantic it have taken to travel by train changing situation in the world of three years now. For security reasons no one but the passengers may be on the platforms of Atocha. What became of those emotional receptions? "From coming home for Christmas? "The soldier received his girlfriend of Italian movies? In any case no one has come me to receive so that I almost do not care. Pÿpo coming, I had to know that ethyl commitment. Left at the station fearing the world. Metrobus: last ticket to home. This is over.
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