Dalí trusted the train station there more than the one in his hometown, and even honored it with a painting.
We were there in April, during the worst of the ash cloud travel crunch, and the place was packed with stranded European tourists trying to get home, while still looking freaking fantastic. It's part of the fashion mystique us Americans are still trying to figure out.
The weather was hot, which we Southerners are used to, but dry, which meant your hair still looked good, which was nice.
There was much in Catalonia and France that made me homesick. I'd catch a whiff of Jasmine or spot a blooming Crepe Myrtle and be transported to springtime back home. It turns out a lot plants that are popular in South Carolina were brought there by the French, and originally come from Asia! So perhaps my new home will have much that is familiar as well.