Weekend in Paradise Part One

Sometimes I look at fellow bloggers' posts documenting their recent mini excursions or road trips and I can't help but think to myself... I won.  It's not their fault.  Not everyone has some of the most amazing landscapes and impossibly charming villages so close to home.


This past weekend ended up being a big deal.  For a long time, David and I had been contemplating cashing in the lovely gift that Sonia and Manuel had given us for our wedding.  It was a Smart Box, one of those gift certificates that comes with a booklet of several options.  As soon as we opened it, we knew we were going to go with a spa day.  So, last week, we finally selected a date and facility, and decided to make it into an event.  We booked a night in the same hotel as the spa.  I consulted with a coworker to find out which little towns in the surrounding area would be the most worth checking out.  The week slowly but surely came to an end, and Saturday morning—bright and early—we were north-bound, giddy to embark on a long-overdue adventure!


MENU.  MUSIC.  ARTISTS: GLEE.  SONGS: ALL.  GO!  Despite the GPS sporadically tweaking David's nerves a bit, the drive was a blast!  It was totally reminiscent of all the road trips we used to make together out of Columbus (Chicago, Michigan, Pittsburg, Cincinnati...).  We arrived at the hotel and promptly took in what would be our home for the next twenty four hours.

The Old Wing, where our room was.

The Grand Staircase

Cute little common area by our room.

After check-in, we went up to our room to leave our belongings and change into our swim suits and robes.  Our spa appointment was at 11:30, so we headed right down.


I have never relaxed as much as I did that afternoon!  The name of the hotel is the Vichy Catalan, which is also the name of a brand of sparkling mineral water (of which the factory is right next door).  The Spa's theme was this special water, which is supposedly, due to the minerals, beneficial to the body in many ways.  We began our session with an hour in the thermal circuit.  This entailed a giant jacuzzi filled with Vichy Catalan, two amazing saunas, as well a strange path of smooth stones and water jets meant to massage your legs and feet.


After this luxurious hour, we had an inhalation session.  For about a half hour, we sat in front of tube that expelled Vichy steam in our faces.  It sounds ridiculous, but it was one of the most relaxing experiences of my life!  


Next, we were taken up on an elevator for the main event.  An hour-long double massage.  My masseuse was a godsend.  I'd never had a professional massage before, let alone a full body massage, and I struggled to contain my ecstatic moans.  David, on the other hand, was struggling not to whimper.  His masseuse was a stocky blonde woman who looked like her name could be Helga and who quite possibly hailed from Sweden.  Not long after her "man hands" attacked him, he was already pleading for mercy!  But, despite the pain, he enjoyed the massage almost as much as I did.  Afterwards, they gave us a few minutes to lay there before we got up and got dressed.  Neither of us could move.  The aromatherapy, the candles, the music.  It was all too much.  I was pretty sure that elevator had taken us straight up to heaven.  Luckily, the reality we then had to go back to was nothing to fret about.


We went up to our rooms and relaxed a little while watching a movie about Judy Garland.  And then we decided to take a little road trip.  David had seen a little blip on the map, representing a lake, so we decided to head up to Banyoles and check it out.  We were not disappointed.

As soon as we arrived we found a little bar right on the edge of the lake.  I saw a sign for cheap mojitos and new it was meant to be.  They ended up being the best ones we had ever tasted!  (Except maybe for Sonia and Manuel's.)

After our drinks, we decided to take a walk along the lake.  Being from Michigan, you wouldn't really expect lakes to impress me all that much.  But being from Michigan, I'm not really accustomed to seeing lakes flanked my mountains.  The combination is breathtaking and creates an atmosphere more serene that I could have ever imagined!

 

All along the lakeshore, there were these tiny abandoned houses where people used to dock their boats.  When I saw this one, I immediately fell in love.  I instantly wanted the deed to this little place.  Can you imagine having this as your writing space?  I just know I could gush out a whole novel in one sitting if these were my surroundings.

As we entered the town, it became clear that there was some sort of sporting event going on.  As we neared a large park, we caught the final phase of a triathlon.  It must have been a tense one, because before long we were dodging an ambulance on its way to treat a participant.  Minutes later a helicopter swooped in and landed right next to the track to rush the patient off to the hospital!  It was a truly surreal thing to witness!

 

After that little incident, the walk back to the car was quiet and relaxing.  All and all, the excursion was a perfect follow-up to our day at the Spa. But soon we would need dinner.  So we decided to make our way back towards the hotel.  Right by the car, we found this sign and decided to honor our brief stay here with a photographic farewell.

The route we ended up taking to get back ran right through the city center of Girona.  Just to give you an understanding, We live in Barcelona, which is part of the Autonomous Community of Cataluña.  Cataluña is broken up into four provinces: Barcelona (in the middle, on the coast), Tarragona (also on the coast, to the south), Girona (to the north, on the coast as well), and Lérida (to the west of Barcelona).  Each province has a capital of the same name.  All of the places we visited this past weekend were to the north, in the province of Girona.  But now I am talking about the city.


David and I had come up to the city of Girona once before, for a flower festival.  I fell in love with it.  It's charm is so unique and the lifestyle here is palpable.  It's not an enormous city like Barcelona, but it's just big enough.  The vibrant medieval neighborhood gives it a truly romantic air while the quirky riverside denotes an authentic European metropolis.


Now that I'm looking at photos and reflecting on that festival, I'm realizing how badly I want to blog about it!  But just to give you a sneak peak, here are a couple of photos from that day!

WOW, right!  Just wait until you see the photos from the festival.  This place is MAGIC.  And, as it turns out, it's just as spectacular at night.  

We decided to stop and eat here.  We were wondering through this trendy, old neighborhood when it dawned on David that his old co-worker's parents owned a restaurant nearby.  We asked a waitress who'd just stepped outside for a cigarette if she knew where Artusi, the restaurant in question, might be.  Low and behold, it was just around the corner!  The ambience in the restaurant was divine and the food was absolutely exquisite!  It was an ideal date night, made even better by the fact that it wasn't even planned!


An hour later, after a drive far darker than we're used to these days, we arrived at the hotel.  I wanted to party long into the night, but David had sleep on his mind.  This was probably a good thing, since we had a long day ahead of us!  A day, I'm afraid, I'll have to explain in Part Two.  I can't believe how long it's taken me just to get here!  I'm sure you'll need a break too, but check back soon to hear about the wonderful medieval villages and exotic rock islands we discovered in the conclusion of our fabulous weekend that we somehow managed to cram into a single weekend!

This Party's on Fire!

Cubelles 2010

This past weekend I had the pleasure of participating in my first party-- or, festa mayor-- of Cubelles. In Catalonia, each city, town (and neighborhood for that matter) reserves a week each summer to celebrate their individual heritage. As David has spent the vast majority of his summers in Cubelles, this party is as much of a tradition as any holiday you or I know and love.

Who knew they had maypoles in Spain?

Going into the experience, I hadn't a clue what to expect. David had explained the affair by telling me that there would be fireworks, people dancing with giant sparklers and ultimately a huge party in a plaza near his parents' apartment. Since fireworks and the like are nothing new to me, I focused more on the party, bracing myself for a Spanish-style extravaganza that would inevitably go on into the wee hours of the morn. What I wasn't prepared for was a rich anthropological experience that not only left an impression me, but also opened my eyes to a vast cultural identity of Catalonia that extends far beyond Gaudí and Sangría.

Amazingly they performed this same dance the morning after the party. And let's just say it wasn't a quiet performance.

Prior to the fireworks and much-anticipated street gathering, David and I went to the historical downtown of Cubelles to see the traditional performances seen above. As the festivities transitioned from quaint folk dances into unrelenting and mind-boggling pyrotechnics, I began to feel like I was in a special on the Discovery channel. What to David and his friends was such a normal and mundane aspect of the annual celebrations (that they haven't even bothered to attend in many years) to me was an awakening. It's moments like these, that still occur after having more or less adapted to my surroundings, that make me feel more alive than ever and ecstatically grateful that I've been handed this new life.

The pink, female dragon has lost her flame in her old age, but now carries the gift of turbocharged, watery breath, which amply moistened the left side of my head later on.

Now, as I previously mentioned, David had told me about the Correfocs, some kind of "fire dance". He described men dancing with around with fireworks... "like sparklers" he described. HA. When a group of tiny children bearing protective, devil-looking costumes began to roam the plaza with spinning "sparklers" only a little larger than I'd imagined, I thought "Well, awwww, how cute!"

The crowd began to back away from the plaza as the second, now slightly taller group took the stage.

Shortly after, they brought in the big guns: full grown men equipped with what could easily be mistaken for weapons of mass destruction.

Anyone else getting a slightly satanic vibe from this all?

And as that apparently wasn't enough to clear the joint, all hail the Dragon!

No communal celebration is complete without a parade. All of that fiery goodness went on the move, bouncing sparks all over the maze of centuries-old narrow streets. The dancers, the dragons, the music all accompanied. Also present were Charlie, the legendary clown (apparently), and the Cubelles giants! (I assure you I am just as lost as you are.)

Hide your children!

This image is just so intense.

After the parade, some resting and dinner with David's family, we met up with his friends and arrived at the beach just in time to see the fireworks. We were closer than I had ever been to the ignition point, as they were set off right on the beach. I saw so many types of fireworks that I had never seen before! The show was the perfect length and very entertaining. I had a flashback to a similar scenario on a certain New Years Eve in a certain other foreign continent and was brought to tears by this perfect fairy tale moment that I had been denied just a few years ago. Everything was perfection. And the evening had just begun.

My favorites were these, which were shot off from beneath the water.

After the fireworks, we gathered with more friends to watch the encore of the correfocs.

These children are encouraged to play with fire.

Have you ever gotten sparks in your eye, Gabriel? It burrrrns.

At that point, some of the core Cubelles guys headed to Patrick's parents' apartment to get the drink on. I met Patrick when I was in Barcelona before celebrating San Juan. He's part of this amazing French family that speak a bazillion languages and live all over the world.

At his place, after taking some Jello shots that his sister had made (you should have seen the faces on the rest of them as they struggled to comprehend this foreign concept), she excused herself and her Portuguese boyfriend to the apartment of Gerard (also present) where the "older crowd" would be hanging out. We made ourselves comfortable on the terrace and played an amazing drinking dice game that was strikingly similar to many drinking games I knew from back home.

When David and my two liter bottles of vodka and orange Fanta were about halfway depleted, we went upstairs to gather the other troops, and then headed back towards the beach for the main event.

The bands played everything from American oldies to local Catalonian music to the Black Eyed Peas. I won't go into much detail as this post is already reaching novella lengths, but I will add that I played the part of the infamous Gloria this year, who is well known for her annual "upset" in the streets of Cubelles. Oh yes, good times.

I will also say this: during the entire party, which for us stretched on until just about sunset, I didn't once think about being in a foreign country. I didn't once think about language barriers. It was all about fun and drink and friends and celebrating all of the wonder that life has to offer. This is my life, as every day is for each of you. And in the end all that matters is whether or not we've made the most of it. I'll cherish this night for the rest of my life, and am already anxious for Cubelles 2011!

Cambrils: Seaside Serenity

The day after our tour of Catalunya en Miniatura, David and I had a houseguest. Vanessa, a fellow BBVA new hiree whom David met in his ongoing training course had a meeting in Barcelona the following morning, and we offered to put her up for the night. After a hardy meal of Fajitas and Nachos (Mmmm), we sat on the terrace chatting.

Unlike me, Vanessa is extremely proficient in the Spanish language, and enjoys showcasing her skills by speaking as frequently and quickly as possible. Pair that with her rural, Southern Catalonian accent, it felt at times like I was taking a Spanish Conversation final exam on crack.

The next morning, since David and I were planning on heading south to spend some time with his family, we offered to take Vanessa to where she was currently living and working, a beachside town (like the majority in the costal autonomous communities of Spain) called Cambrils.

Let's just say I was a bit surprised on arrival. It could be because these settings are all too typical for lifelong residents of the region, or perhaps because David himself had never visited Cambrils before, but astoundingly, he never made a big deal out of this impromptu overnight trip. To me, it was a very big deal.

I suppose more than anything, I wasn't expecting so many tourists. I'd never heard of Cambrils before, you? But the streets, the beaches, and the beachside promenade were all flooded with them! It dawned on me that my time in Spain thus far, though showing many of the attributes of a vacation, hadn't quite been... yet. This was vacation. This was paradise.

Of course, as many of you know, no vacation is without its vexations. You see, I have this little problem when two very powerful forces combined. The forces of which I speak are, of course, hunger and fatigue. Normal, nourished Peter is ready for a new adventure at the drop of a hat! Bring on that cultural, educational goodness! Starving and sleepy Peter, on the other hand, is another story, and an ongoing source of exasperation for my good-spirited fiancé.

We found ourselves, upon our first and only evening in Cambrils, in an all-too-familiar situation. Vanessa's kitchen didn't contain anything too semi-vegetarian-friendly, and we were faced with the mission of seeking subsistence in a carnivorous culture. The Disney World-esque streets and plazas of Cambrils turned to a labyrinthine obstacle course, each turn resulting in a dead end. The grocery store just closed. Meat. Meat. Pizza. Pizza. (OK, I know, I love pizza, but when used as a last resort repeatedly, it loses its appeal. Also, I was cranky.)

At this point, I was on verge of screaming "Where is the Subway!" But as previous experiences have shown me, seeking refuge in familiar institutions can sometimes be more problematic than comforting, as the menu is remarkably distinct region to region. Finally, a beacon of hope. A small chicken kiosk, offering a wide array of chicken-based foodstuffs. I sought shelter behind a sign to avoid the grotesque imagery of several shiny, robust, whole chickens rotating over the rotisserie. The last thing David or I wanted was for me to suddenly lose my appetite for poultry. The mission was successfully accomplished, and a satisfactory meal we had. I give props to David for continuously enduring my psychosis with patience and sensitivity.

As seen above, David and I spent a good chunk of the following afternoon on the beach. Much of that time was also spent discuss the plans for the rest of the day. We could stay in Cambrils, wait for Vanessa to get out of work, and eat with her. Or we could head to Cubelles and take advantage of a free meal courtesy of David's parents. Or we could go discover another Catalonian gem and wine and dine there. Oh, the joys of vacation! The freedom! Each day open, a blank slate! It's a shame that something so amazing, so enriching to the soul, is something so temporary. (Ironic foreshadow.) Ultimately, we decided on adventure, in the form of visiting another Spanish city David had never really seen: Tarragona.