I woke up at the hostel and eased into the day with coffee at a small cafe. Hostels make for memorable people-watching, and this one was no exception: a rotating mix of travellers, beach plans, late nights, and people trying to figure out where the next train would take them.

We spent the afternoon at the beach, then returned to the hostel for a nap before meeting a larger group for the evening. About 20 people were heading out together, which sounds organized until you remember that this was a hostel group in Barcelona. I did not know exactly where we were when we arrived, but everyone seemed happy enough to be there.

At first the club was nearly empty, so I learned how to play foosball with a group of Europeans who were much better than me. By about 2:00 the place started filling up, the music picked up, and the night became one of those travel evenings made of small conversations and accidental confidence.

I gave the bartender a small tip early in the night, and later she surprised me with a free kiwi drink. Maybe the lesson is that a little kindness travels well, even when your language skills do not.

We made it back to the hostel around 6:00am, slept for about two hours, and then construction started shaking the building. I look forward to the day I sleep a full night again. Until then, I will keep collecting stories.

The rest of the day was calmer. I read under a tree near the beach, gathered my bags, and headed to the train station with Ashley and Sibyl. We sorted out our seats, boarded the train, and prepared for what should be a lively Sunday night in Nice.