Visc a Barcelona!

I flew back to Barcelona yesterday night. It has been a soft landing so far.
On the plane, in the row behind me, sat three extremely conversational elderly Catalans who immediately made me practise my Catalan skills as I eavesdropped on their conversation and reminded me of my students as their practised their English phrases.
Spain´s football World Cup quarter finals game against Germany took place while I was in the clouds somewhere between Gatwick and El Prat , but as soon as we landed, the stewardess told us the news of Spain's 1-0 victory. The passengers cheered and dug into their pockets for their mobile phones even faster than usual to check the score for themselves, chattering away happily on their way out into the terminal building.
I was met at the airpot by the Anthropologist, who made it very clear that he was happy that I had come to stay indefinitely. He joked about me looking scared and worried on my way out of the baggage claim, which I denied with a laugh. Then it occurred to me that he had thought the same of me when I first moved into the flat where we met, so although I don´t think his observation was exactly true (or maybe a little), it can't be a bad start to this new phase in our lives.
We took the airport bus to Plaza Catalunya, which, along with Plaza Espanya, was closed because of World Cup celebrations. The traffic was embellished by Spanish and Catalan flags (the goal scorer Carles Puyol being Catalan) and plenty of honking and joyous shouting filled the streets and squares. It was't as crazy as it must have been in Madrid, as the Anthropologist pointed out, what with the anti-Spanish sentiment and separationist politics in Catalonia, but there was clearly an atmosphere of festivity and happiness in the streets.
It was then that I was reminded again of the beauty of the summer nights in Barcelona: warm, humid air mixed with nauseating smells of sewage, people wandering idly on their own or in noisy groups, sitting in the squares drinking cheap beer and eating ice-cream until the wee hours of the morning.
About a year ago I left Barcelona and its filthy alleys and romantic squares, ready to try something different for a while. I am sure I will face moments where I long for the tranquility, peace and the fresh air of somewhere a bit further north again, but I'm now in Barcelona, ready to embrace it in all its frustrating, endearing quirkiness, ready to live my life here and live it as fully as possible. I am ready to dive into the deep end of Barcelona.
And Spain winning the World Cup on Sunday would just make this start even better!