Writing to you from a café in central Manchester. Window table, and from time to time I turn to look out on the rainy streets in this place I know so well. Umbrellas, raincoats and cars. The busy, the forgotten, the important, the crazy, the happiest, the saddest and the colourful against the grey.
Having been back for a couple of weeks, I find myself reminiscing about the sights and dreams of Barcelona...
