Spain

May 22, 2012: After Bordeaux, we set off for the Pyrenees Mountains. We originally intended to camp somewhere in the mountainous French-Spanish border, but because of our extra day on the Atlantic coast, it made more sense to go straight to the home of host #3 in Barcelona. After passing through some extraordinary scenery, including waterfalls and snowcapped mountains, we eventually hit the Mediterranean cliffs surrounding Barcelona.  

Suddenly it was beach weather and after settling in with our new hosts, we hit the bars with them. This time we were staying with a French girl, Laetitia, and her Polish boyfriend Kamil. They invited along another Polish friend and the five of us wandered the town which was still buzzing long after dark. This Polish friend had an interesting sense of humor and one of the most memorable parts of the night was when he randomly said, “I know only one word in German…” [dramatic pause] “HITLER!” He later justified it with stories of his family getting raped in WWII. Prior to that night I had no clue that the Polish (or other Europeans for that matter) still harbored such deep anger at the German people. Travel abroad is quite enlightening! Well anyways, we ended up taking some bottles of wine to the beach and stayed out until 5 in the morning before making our way back to the apartment. Over the course of the next couple days, Chris and I went running, swam in the sea, and just enjoyed the relaxed city. Also Laetitia just happened to be an art history major and knew a whole lot about the city’s architecture. Our last day in Barcelona, she walked the whole city with us as she explained the significance of the buildings. She was super sweet and we had a great time. We were sad to leave but were also excited about what we had left on our itinerary.

The next morning when we pulled the car out of the parking garage, I went to program in our next destination when I realized the GPS and all its corresponding accessories (ones we wouldn’t move) were completely gone. We deduced that it must have been stolen during a two hour period when Chris had left the car unlocked. Luckily nothing else was missing, but frustrated and mapless, we drove around Barcelona until we found a mall and bought a new GPS at FNAC, a European equivalent of Best Buy. It was probably for the best though because this new GPS knew where all the speed cameras were and would warn you exactly when you should be careful to drive the speed limit. So after our little detour, we drove along the Mediterranean coast back towards France. Amusingly enough, we didn’t even make it halfway to the French border before deciding to stop. The breathtaking views from the cliffs above the coves and beaches along Costa Brava were just too much to pass up. We were allured to pull over for a dip at Tossa de Mar and we eventually found a campground called Camping Pola just outside the city. We nabbed a site right next to the beach and ended up spending two nights there just because it was so relaxing. The first night, we went to a bar and watched a Barcelona soccer game with a sweet German couple that was camping at the site next to ours. In contrast to the American camping facilities we’re used to, almost all of the European campgrounds we stayed at on this trip were equipped with a restaurant, grocery store, wi-fi, swimming pool, tennis court, and other amenities along those lines. It really wasn’t much different from a hotel since Chris and I are already super comfortable with camping. We have pretty stellar backpacking gear that promotes sleeping soundly outside. Plus I’m sure we saved at least a thousand dollars in lodging expense over the course of the trip just by camping so much!

The next day, Chris and I hiked up the cliffs surrounding the cove we were camped in and walked down into a neighboring cove. That’s where we found an over-the-top resort that was buzzing with French vacationers. We meandered past an outdoor jazzercise class and ate lunch on a large deck overlooking the sea. With all the elaborate sports courts, swimming pools, and sun tanning areas, it looked exactly like a cruise ship had vomited on land. We took it all in and were impressed that we were spending significantly less than these other tourists to do essentially the same thing – enjoy the beach. After lunch we waited on the shore to embark on a glass bottom boat tour of the caves along the coast. We had trouble figuring out where exactly to wait though because we were told to wait on the beach, but the beach had no dock and the sand sloped gradually into the water. So we sat and eventually a boat appeared at the mouth of the cove. It then came straight towards the shore and plowed right up onto the sand. Within minutes, the boat crew dropped a ramp right next to a young couple that was napping on the beach. The woman, who had been sunbathing topless, unhappily awoke to a crowd of fully dressed tourists stomping off the boat and onto the sand right beside her. I felt bad for her as she and her spouse quickly packed up and left. Not too long after watching this go down, we were on the boat and on our way. The tour itself was pretty cool, you’d never guess from the cliffs above that there were so many reefs and underwater caves just below.

After our boat tour, we hiked back to our more primitive cove. It was a nice contrast from the commercialized resort we had just come from as the beach here was undeveloped and not crowded at all. When Chris and I cuddled in our hammock back at the campsite, we happily noted the date and mused that we couldn’t have picked a better spot to spend our 4 year wedding anniversary. Spontaneity alone led us to this secluded little oasis somewhere on the Mediterranean coast of Spain.