The Answer is Blowing in the Wind…

Travel week 2 seemed to sneak up on me, and BAM! It was back on Trains, Planes, and Automobiles (RIP John Candy, God Bless You). I made my way back to Barcelona, Spain via aeroplane for the second time this semester. I traveled solo this trip and really gained an appreciation for this style of rambling. As a solo traveler, you become an observer first and foremost. I began noticing things that I never would have if I were in a group of friends; people, conversations, languages, nature, the flow of the society. The opportunity to meet new people multiplies greatly because you are more approachable on your own and, quite frankly, thirsty for good conversation! The city of Barcelona is captivating. It is the most diverse and vibrant place I have ever experienced. The weather is always welcoming, everyone speaks at least three languages, and Spaniards take the easy-going lifestyle to a new level. I can see why many unsuspecting backpackers find themselves waking up one day in Barce and saying “What month is it??” Tourism plays a huge role in Barcelona’s personality, which means there are always fun activities going on and plenty of nightlife. This being my second visit to the city, I really wanted to seek out gems off the beaten path. I have two friends who live/study in Barcelona so after hooking up with them, we went searching and found the true pulse of Spain.

Early morning greeted us with a hustle to catch the 1 hr train ride Northwest to Montserrat, Spain. Montserrat is a village nestled in the mountains overlooking the Barcelona Valley. The story goes that in the 9th century A.D, shepherds in the valley saw an aura of light radiating from the mountainside continuously for a month, accompanied by the voices of angels. Finally, the religious elders of the community scaled Montserrat mountain and discovered a cave in which they found a preserved image of the Virgin Mary. From that moment, the site became a holy sanctuary for religious pilgrims and a monastery was built which still stands today, accounting for one of just five buildings in Montserrat.

When we stepped off the train in this charming village there was a fantastic outdoor market with local Spanish cheeses, vegetables, jams, etc. The jovial cheese man was hollering his advertisement and handing out free tastes, so we decided on a stout blue cheese for lunch. We grabbed a sandwich to compliment the purchase, laced up our boots, and embarked on an epic journey to the peak 6,000 ft above. There were ancient steps etched into the rock face for the first half hour, after which we were left with a dusty trail through the forest and to the top. In all reality, the hike was the perfect balance of steep pitches for exercise and plateaus to rest and take in the view. As the afternoon went on, we saw less and less of the fellow hikers who had been mingling at the base camp market. Most were deterred part-way up by the cold and the increasingly difficult trail conditions, but we were determined to push on despite being unprepared for rugged hiking. I was wearing leather dress shoes on account of my very “light” packing scheme for the trip (the airlines really nail you for extra weight!), and one of my colleagues took a spill and tore up his hands a bit. We were quite the ragtag trio of trekkers in comparison to the “serious” guys we saw with helmets and climbing rope. After blood, sweat, and tears (of joy of course), we finally reached the peak. We were met by bone-chilling 80 km/hr winds and the most breathtaking vantage point in all of Spain. To the North were the majestic snow-capped Pyrenees Mountains into France. To the South, the Mediterranean. And to the West, hundreds of miles of farming plains. Needless to say we were rewarded handsomely for our hiking efforts. Seeing such a panorama made me forget about any pain in my legs, and I imagined how the people from the 9th century pulled off such feats. To them (and me) it must have seemed like they were literally on the tip of the world. We enjoyed our sandwiches and cheese on the mountain and reveled in our mini victory with warm backpack beers. The fresh mountain air made the taste of the native ingredients shine. Eventually reality struck and, realizing the time, we snapped out of our captivation with the scene to catch the last train back to Barcelona. As we made the descent, the sun fell behind the peaks and the coyotes came out for their nightly mischief. We enjoyed a cup of hot coco at the local cafe, and acknowledged that we had fed our minds, bodies, and souls well that day. One for the books…