Delightful Little French Towns, Populated By the British

Well, to be honest, only one British woman (Jan, the proprietor of the fine little hostel at which I am staying) but four Australians, a Welsh girl, an Irishman, two New Zealanders, and about four Germans (different ones today), and a Czech-Canadian. As it stands, I have met most of the Commonwealth but very few citoyens de la République. Except a stereotypically impolite and put-upon restaurant owner who, every time we spoke to her, tried to shoot lasers out of her eyes to kill us horribly.

Preixan (not Perxian, sorry) is a quaint little town 10km outside of Carcassonne. I'll be going into town tomorrow, but today I wandered about the vineyards and walked to the top of a hill and saw some spectacular views. And this evening, I sat around talking to my fellow hostellers for several hours. It was great fun. Colm, the Irishman who is about 65 or so was very interesting, and does watercolors, works as an artistic psychotherapist, although originally he was a factory worker. Dave, Heather and her boyfriend, whose name escapes me, are all from Perth and seem like what you'd expect if Southern California had been part of the British Empire. Rose and Simon are still here, but now we've added another German contingent, Arcturis, Sabrina and two whose names I haven't caught yet. They are very nice. There are also a couple older guests, a couple named Anne and yet to be named from Wellington. Anyways, my roommates are all off to sleep, so I should be too.

Here are a few pictures from Granada and Barcelona. More later.