Just For Red

As you may have figured out, I’m traveling. While on these travels I’ve had the opportunity of making friends with a guy named Red. The reason I’m writing about him and not all of the other travel junkies is because those other travel junkies don’t share a name with my grandad.
It’s true. My grandad, in the war, was known as red due to his red hair that I so luckily inherited. Or so they say; I never saw him with anything but grey.
The Reds only share a name, however, and everything else between them seems to be much different. While my grandad was a quiet, bee keeper with old fashioned flaws like driving too fast for no reason, Moe Redhuan- I don’t think that’s spelled right- has high dream of becoming the biggest douche and hipster and eventually settling down at a job where he will count numbers. Or do something with math.
Grandad was a gentleman in the eyes of the world and I found out after he passed that he was less than perfect. Red seems to take pride in his less than perfect ways but I think underneath the tough exterior is just a little man who needs a hug.
I can’t say that I knew my grandad exceptionally well, but I remember that he was a cute old man who was strong till the day he went. Red strikes me as the pet kind of guy. If he was an animal I think he’d be a hamster because he runs in a lot of circles pretending he knows where he going. He also has crazy, hamster-like hair.
Grandad didn’t sing at all except to sing “Oh Canada” with the crowds at every significant event. I’ve heard rumours that Red often sings the “songs of his people” as he calls them. This includes an over extended range of music and backgrounds from Aladdin to Jay-Z to Enrique. With absolutely no racial stereotyping and simply first impression input, I expected him I be listening to less Disney and rap and to more Bollywood and sitar. But to each his own I suppose.
One other thing that grandad and Red have in common: I think they both like photos. That’s really the only reason for this posting; Red wanted pictures of Spain. So here we go.


That’s Red in all his drunken (I’m) awesomeness.



And those are Valencia. Tomorrow m hosts are taking me to the museums and such so I’ll likely have more photos.

In other news, I walked in a circle four times today IN the train station trying to find my connecting train. I also successfully walked into a lamp post while looking at a sign. I was later disappointed to find that it was not, in fact, on my bucket list and therefor I really accomplished nothing.
All in all it was okay though. Someone smiled. And tonight I’m going to the movies.


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