It's amazing what a photo can do

In my last blog about Barcelona, I left out a tiny bit of what happened on my trip. Unfortunately, I had my purse stolen on my last night there, which included, most tragically, my camera. I didn't include that bit in my last blog, as I didn't want my trip to Barcelona to sound tainted. But for those of you who know me well, you know how much I love (to the point of maybe obsession) taking photos. So the loss of my camera was especially devastating. However, by the act of a brilliant tool called Facebook, I was able to see pictures of me in Barcelona, taken by some wonderful people I met at my hostel. One of the guys I met has as his profile picture (on Facebook) a picture of a group of us on our last night. Just seeing that one picture brought almost this wave of relief, like I had proof that I was, in fact, in Barcelona. It was so incredibly heartwarming to be reminded of that trip. One girl was so generous that she sent me a CD of her pictures from the trip that I now get to keep for myself.

If I learned anything from my purse theft (besides to not sit on a bench in Barcelona without my purse not attached to my body) it's that I need to be less dependent on pictures. As one of my hostel friends pointed out, I was there. Let the experience itself sink in, and not be so reliable on the "proof." I will always remember how the sun felt on my face as I layed down in Park de la Ciudadella and how my breath was taken away at the site of the palm tree-lined pathway that led toward the Arc de Triumf and the drop in temperature as I made my way to the top of Mount Tibidabo because of its high elevation and the sound of the Flamenco dancers' shoes on the wooden dance floor. Yes, there are some things that I've lost that I can't replace, but what I have to remember is that those especially fantastic memories can't be taken from me. And those are all I need.