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Sleepy Barcelona

My phone says its 35 degrees but the sweat dripping through my hair, down my forehead and accumulating beneath my 20kg backpack says otherwise. I’ve just stepped off the air-conditioned train into the haze of Barcelona. Steam rises from the rooftops of graffiti-covered buildings, from the rubbish littered footpaths and from cigarettes tucked under whiteContinue reading “Sleepy Barcelona”