VAYA WEEKEND!

The friendly little Seat once again made its way down to Horta de San Juan. And guess what, Horta is just as nice as it should always be. The Catalan youth danced traditional songs for us on the Saturday night (downtown square cityslickerhorta), they even managed to sneak in a polka but everyone knows that polka you only dance properly in Sweden at sweaty gymnastiksalar, age fifteen, with a burning sick note in your pocket that your gympateacher just laughed at. I won't mention the hand sweat because all Swedish here all men and surely it was all the boys providing the desperate air of teenage perspiration.

uuu I didn´t mean to go in to this, I am talking about Horta. Horta was nice. Horta hot. Horta river. Good bye Horta.  I asked Cora if we could come all weekends. She said yes without realising the consequences of that statement. If I had a camera I would put a link to the photos. But I don't.