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Home of my heart Gràcia… I fell in love with you at first sight. The turmoil on the pavement of your Carrers, your blue skies and orange trees, the music, vibrant, in your heart, the sun shining on plaça Virreina warming my skin on a winter day of February. My first visit to Barcelona just happened, maybe a mistake, a bit unexpected, the decision to change my life. Signed up for a 3-week teacher’s training (24 students from 22 states or countries and 17 of us living in a different country). A million questions rushed in my reckless mind “What if…? And… You don’t know the land, you have never met the people, you have never spoken the language, nor eaten the food…” Oh please, leave me alone! Booked a six-bed mixed dorm hostel at Passeig de Gràcia, great place, awful nights. But at nearly 40, I WAS longing for this “once in a lifetime experience” that would help me change everything. I certainly was NOT heading to the first 4-star hotel down the block. Challenged myself, learned a few basics “Ola! oune café con létché pore favore!”. Does it really matter if I only drink black tea? I can change for that coffee with milk! As unexpected as it seems after 3 nights of being sleepless in Barcelona (thank you dear room mate for opening the balcony door everyday at 2 am while it was freezingly busy outside!), I get a phone call from an old friend who has followed my adventures on social network: “Hey Karen, I’m now based in London but in Barcelona for the next 2 days, want to catch up at my place?” And here I was, exchanging my nightmare dorm for a 10-bedroom castle with chauffeur at the top of Tibidabo… Though I felt like Cinderella, I must say that after a few days, Gràcia’s heart was pounding in my chest, I had to go back to the streets of reality. Got my things together and booked a perfectly little but typical apartment on Carrer d’Astúries. My street, my home… where I had my little organic market and eat-in, my favorite guitar player and the best tapas in town. Life was full of laughs on the streets and in the restaurants of Carrer de Verdi. The orange trees made fun of our climbing challenges and the sky just stayed ever so blue on the long walks to the best massage in Barcelona. Being half French, I guess I have kept on a grumpy, skeptical approach to each and every restaurant and bottle of wine! But it was all so new, so tasty, so colorful and bright! “¿De dónde vienes?” … “¿D’on ets?” … Ah… Barcelona, I speak not a word of your tongue. Neither Spanish, nor Catalan. Yet Gràcia, I feel your people, I feel your land, you flow in my veins. Hello, my name is Karen, I was born in Mauritius and I now live in France… But … my home is Gràcia.