Jose and I landed in Barcelona and went straight to the rental car office, where Jose negotiated for us to have a cute BMW hatchback. We drove into Barcelona, using only a small GPS (TomTom) to guide us north out of the city. I stared in awe out the window at the foreign landscape, the incredible cathedral by Gaudi (La Sagrada Familia), and road signs all in Spanish, a language completely foreign to me. My father had told me not to exchange money at the airport because of the poor rate, and to go to a bank instead. Well, Jose and I did not know the name of any bank in Spanish, so we continued to drive north towards Roses, hoping we would find one along the way. We arrived at a tollbooth on the highway, where Jose had to use his debit card since we still had no Euros. After this we decided that we needed to exchange currency as soon as possible in order to avoid international transaction fees on the card. I typed something in the GPS that seemed like a decent bank, south of us. We drove back south and realized that this bank was in Barcelona, and we no longer wanted to drive through those confusing streets, so I turned the GPS off and headed back north. Jose and I were both hungry so we stopped at a gas station. After ordering some dry bread with ham and chocolate croissants, we asked where we could exchange currency. Unfortunately, the clerk did not speak English. We saw a taxi cab driver and approached him to exchange $100. He was reluctant but we finally negotiated with him and acquired €60 from that, just enough to last us until we could find a bank. We headed north again, our stomachs full and our minds buzzing with anticipation at the thought of exploring a new country. I switched the radio to play upbeat Spanish music, rolled down all the windows and danced as Jose sped along the highway. He too was thrilled at the concept of visiting Roses. We had visited Roses once before, about fourteen years ago. I had very little recollection of the event, but Jose, who was both older than we and has a fantastic memory, remembered quite a bit, and was keen to explore the places we spent time in as children. We found a Mercedes SUV which was speeding and shifting lanes frequently, of course we followed them, eager to arrive at our destination quickly, revisit our past, and make new memories. Driving along the highway, almost at Roses, we took a random exit to explore some of the locality. We found a gravel road, rolled up the windows, and sped along, enjoying the morning sun, yellow pastures surrounding us, and of course the billows of dust behind us. It is little things like this on a road trip that make it worthwhile, small excursions off the beaten path and driving fast. The whole time Spanish dance music was bumping, without a care of how loud it was or how fast we were going. When we finally arrived at Roses, we drove down Avenue de Rhode alongside the ocean, admiring the people-filled beaches on the right but also realizing that we wanted to find a more isolated spot for better snorkeling. We decided to first check into the hotel and leave our luggage; we were going to stay for two nights. We drove up Carrer Almogàvers to Hotel Grecs, an extremely steep and narrow road, unlike anything I have seen in the United States. We deposited our luggage in a warm-toned and quaint bedroom with two beds and balcony overlooking the pool. Shortly after, Jose and I agreed to go for a scenic drive. We hopped in the car and drove up Carretera Montjoi, a winding road through the mountainous terrain along the shore. Costa Brava, translated “wild” or “rough coast” is aptly named so. Cliffs tower straight from the water, and the terrain is encrusted in rock formations and steep hill faces. The road was often made of sandy gravel, with no barrier on the side, where one could easily look down at the sea from hundreds of feet above. Jose was having a great time driving, and I tried not to think of my dad’s warnings of the fatality rates on these roads. We drove and stopped at various lookout points to take picture and to walk along the beach at Montjoi. After much convincing, Jose finally let me drive, but he was telling me to slow down the entire time, exaggeratingly screaming at every turn in the road, even though I was going about three times slower than he did. Although I only drove for a little, I enjoyed being the car DJ and looking out the window, feeling the rush of wind and dry salty air. After a few hours of driving, we arrived back to Roses and found a shop to buy some snorkeling gear and snacks. We bought a variety of chips, sausages, ham, and breads, as well as tanning oil and of course a mask and snorkel. I felt as if we had gone back in time 50 when the Spanish speaking man did not know how to operate the credit card swiping machine; but he was very sweet nonetheless. We tried to explain to him what to do in English and he warmly responded in Spanish, but we figured it out in the end. We ate in the vehicle on the way to the beach and found a roadside parking spot. We walked down to the main beach and then took a path on the left which wound along the rocky coast behind a resort, where there was a beautiful secluded beach with a small island off the shore. Jose told me the story of how when he as a child he was always afraid to venture out onto the island, and how it seemed so far away. So it was only fitting that, now at 23 years old, he went onto the island. The water was clear and rather chilly. I am more used to swimming in Atlantic waters, and the Mediterranean Sea provided me with an opportunity to see a large variety of sea life I have never encountered. One of the underwater banks was covered with grass like vegetation, waving slowly in the current. It was 30 yard wide flat rock with green flowing grass on it, and small fish darting in between the vegetation, like in a documentary. There was also a large school of medium sized fish that glinted silver with every movement. The water became deeper the further I swam, and the deep blue darkness of the water contrasted perfectly with the silver fish and the green grasses, creating a magical effect. On the other side of the island the water was shallower but contained an abundance of diversity on the sea floor. I saw hundreds of spiny black sea urchins and several sea stars. I gathered a large breath and dived down to the bottom where I had seen a sea star and picked it up, wanting to show it to Jose. As I swam back to shore, the sea star moved, and gripped me with its tiny suction cups. I brought this sea star and a sea urchin to shore, where Jose had started tanning, and laid them out on a nearby rock to dry. I wanted to give them to my grandmother when I would visit her in nine days. I laid down to tan as well and a few Spanish children went up to the sea star and started to play with it. It was cute to watch them screaming in a foreign language as they poked it and showed it to their parents. After a while of lying on the beach, we went back to the hotel to shower, wash the two sea creatures, lay them out on the balcony, and went for another drive. We found some small gravel roads off the main road and explored Spain’s natural landscape, stumbling upon a herd of sheep moving through a dry creek bed. After sunset, we returned back to our hotel, where Jose and I decided we will only stay in Roses for one night and drive to north to Cadaqués the next day. We went to sleep rather early. I opened the door to the balcony, pulled my bed halfway onto it, and laid down where I could see the glimmering lights of the city below and fall asleep to a warm gentle breeze on face on my first night in Spain. A few hours into the night, it began to thunder and rain. I jumped out of bed to move it further inside, closed the balcony doors, and feel back asleep immediately. Jose woke me up at 4am and told me he was going to jog. Although I wanted to continue to sleep, I wanted to explore some of the city on foot as well, before all of the tourists woke up. We jogged up a path from where we could see houses on top of a small mountain. We deiced to go there. After an hour of bushwhacking, trespassing, and climbing over fences, we finally arrived at the top. We enjoyed being inspired by the houses with beautiful architecture and a variety of amazing cactus-like plants. Unfortunately, I hit my knee while I was quickly climbing up over someone’s concrete fence. The landowner was standing 15 yards away with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. I can’t blame her but at least I looked innocent enough not to have security called. I could no longer jog afterwards from the knee bruise, so Jose and I strolled back down the mountain on the narrow streets and compared the difference between this neighborhood versus typical American neighborhoods. We came back to the hotel just in time for the start of breakfast and feasted on freshly cooked eggs and a variety of delicious items, sitting on the balcony outside and enjoying the pool. Without even noticing, Jose was using the white tablecloth as a napkin. I pointed this out to him and we broke out into uncontrollable laughter for several minutes. After the meal we went upstairs to pack, and then continued back downstairs for a second breakfast until check-out time. I also grabbed about five chocolate croissants and several pears for the car ride. From there, we started heading to our main destination for the day: Faro del Cap de Creus in Girona, Spain. After stopping at various viewpoints along the road to admire the staggered olive plantations, and took a few fun pictures, we arrived at Cadaqués. After winding down narrow roads and exploring the city by car, we drove up Carrer del Dr Bartomeus and found a beach at Sa Conca, where Jose wanted to snorkel. After swimming, we drove further up the road towards Cap de Norfeu, took a few pictures of the homes and trails on the steep cliff side and turned around towards Faro del Cap de Creus. At Faro del Cap de Creus, there was a small restaurant and parking lot at the top, but Jose and I were not hungry. We changed into out swimsuits, packed up our snorkeling gear and went to explore. We hiked over to a large rock outcropping and looked for where we were going to go next. We saw a small inlet straight ahead, in between the main peninsula and Illa s’Encalladora and decided to hike down there. We skirted the main path and began the descent down the steep rock formations. There was no beach at the water level so I jumped off a rock to begin my dive. The rock near the shore was covered in sea anemones and other spiky creatures which I was not keen to step on. The water became deep very quickly, and after swimming out about 20 yards, I could still see the bottom about 60 yards below. The thought of being so high above the ground was thrilling, and I peered into brilliant blue depths. It was Jose's turn next, and he swam around in the inlet also looking for various sea anemones and saw strange deep-red slimy columns, which I later discovered to be red sea-squirts. Soon after we started our hike back up, the clouds cleared and the sun shone on the now even more brilliant blue water. The variations in color and depth in the water were now much more apparent and stunning. A sailboat cruised by in between the island and the peninsula, graceful in the wind. The whole area seemed so magical, with no one but Jose and I enjoying it. Jose even commented on how the place was so beautiful and magical that it was a bit spooky, and we imagined scenarios of the sailboat disappearing in the blink of an eye, or the island to the right of the larger one growing straight from the water and then disappearing again. After fantasizing about such scenarios, we hiked back to our car, ate some chocolate, and then set out north again, towards the French border.
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WiktoriaTraveling the world, exploring the wilderness, summiting mountains, and writing about her adventures to share and inspire others Archives
August 2014
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