Hola Spain!

BACK TO BARCELONA

An uneventful drive from Fontvielle, Arles to the Spanish border has some excitement injected into it when we're beckoned aside at the border. We greet the guard with a cheery Hello and then we are gabbled at in Spanish. When she stops garbling we are staring blankly and mumble English? (Was our un-Spanish sounding Hello and the big arse GB sticker on our number plate not a dead giveaway that we less than likely to be fluent in Spanish??) More Spanish and then something about where are we going? Barcelona. More Spanish, some of which may have been her rattling off place names of typical destinations, but none of them sound like the places we are going. How long are we going to be here, where are we going? Barcelona, Valencia, Madrid, San Sebastian, two weeks. (Some omissions, but it seemed easier than telling her all the places we intended to see and that we'd be here 3 or 4 weeks!).

She gives up and waves us on. We gripe for a bit after that about people who are in jobs where clearly they should be able to speak more than one language and can't (or won't) and also people who can't speak the language who do, and visa versa, but who insist on speaking their language at you. Like the more they talk at you, then maybe you will suddenly understand every word they have said and will reply fluently in their native language. Obviously where we struck this type of behaviour the most was in Italy, but generally on our trip, where there has been a language barrier, between our good will and the good will and helpfulness of the other person we have been able to get across with much slow talking and gesturing that we would like six French macaroons, one of each colour thanks, or that we would like one wine and a beer, or can we catch a train to the village near the campground from this station and what platform would it be from.

Its on the road to Barcelona that we strike a bit of a problem. This problem has come to be called 'wiper-gate'. Ryan tries to wash our dirty front window screen and the wipers refuse to move. He mucks around with the wiper/water lever for ages and eventually we come to the conclusion that he's somehow buggered it. Hmm, could be a problem, lets hope it doesn't rain anytime soon...

Further down the road we arrive into Barcelona and with trusty Ruth's help we cut through the maze of motorways from the north side of the city to the south side. We follow our noses trying to remember what we can from being here last year with Cat and Aaron. We get ourselves on the coastal highway to go back to the same campground and arrive without any problems. We park Betty up on the same site that the Don was parked in last year, Ryan cuts the engine and he's off, at a run through the camp to the wide sandy beach and into the waves!

After some body surfing we have a late lunch and then head into the city. We go to the Sagrada Familia, to see if anything has changed from 14 months ago. Then we head to Las Ramblas and have a poke in the massive food market, oogling the masses of Jamon, hanging in giant legs (hooves still attached!) above butcher displays, the fresh fruit, the vege, the cheese of all shapes and sizes and so much more. We pick up some bread and sangria for dinner and head back onto the street. We step straight out into a parade of some sort, at least we think its a parade and not a demonstration. There are a few weird folk about, dressed up and with fire torches. I think maybe they're devil worshippers or something that going to get a bit of a reaction, as there are a few policemen about.

But it turns out to be a parade, starting with a band all dressed, not exactly in uniform, but all in black and red clothes. Most look like they've had a bit of a run in with their grandfather's fishing tackle box. It was easy to think that it was something odder than a parade. Next came some folk in a variety of costumes, brandishing fire torches. Giant people came down the street next followed by some animals (people dressed as animals, not the real thing!). More giant figurines bought up the rear. We try and find out what the parade is celebrating, but it gets lots in translation.

We head back to camp and have a suitably late dinner (we're in Spain now, dinner before 9pm is early!)

THE BLACK VIRGIN IN THE MOUNTAINS OF MONTSERRAT

The next day we get a train from Barcelona an hour away into the mountains of Montserrat. From where the train drops us off, we jump on a rack railway to get higher into the mountains. The rack railway leaves us in the heart of Montserrat from where it's possible to get a further two funicular's on an almost vertical trip, higher into the mountains again. Never let it be said that it's easy to get there!

We spend a bit of time walking the main street of Montserrat, taking in the view over the valley below and the marvellous mountains above us with their weird rock formations, kind of similar to Cappadocia in Turkey. We sample sheep and goat cheese being sold at a small market by local farmers. They also have a tempting spread of jams and honey with the honeycomb still in it. We poke our noses into the local information centre which is selling more local products including some ridiculously cheap pottery. We have a spot of lunch perched on a wall in the village and then we head into the monastery.

Legend has it that St Luke sculpted a statue of the Virgin Mary with the tools from St Joseph's workshop using Jesus mother as the model and that St Peter bought her to Barcelona. Hidden by the Christians in a cave in the mountain, at the time of the Saracen invasion, it was miraculously found during the early days of the Reconquest, which gave rise to the idea of building a church and a monastery to house it. Whatever the legend, a magnificent statue of the Virgin Mary cradling baby Jesus, proven to be Romanic in origin and dating from the XII century was found in the mountains. The monastery was then built and is now over a thousand years old. We line up and file past the virgin before heading back out of the monastery.

We catch a funicular up the mountain and have a bit of a hike on various trails and learn some more legends of the mountains in an information centre. Eventually we've had enough so we funicular, rack railway and train back to Barcelona!

SOME SUN WORSHIPPING IN SITGES

After a bit of a sleep-in we catch the bus down to the town of Castelldefels and from there the train a couple of stops along the coast to one of the best towns and beaches on the coast del Garraf - Sitges. To be honest we pretty much went straight from the train to the beach so I can't vouch much for the town but it looked plenty nice. The beach was pretty mint though; it was sandy and had some decent waves for me to splash about in, and for Ryan to ride. On this side of the world you learn not to take it for granted that a beach will be sandy.

Pretty much from thereon in we did nothing but swim and suntan all day. Eventually suitably relaxed and beached out, we headed back to camp, stopping only for some more fresh baguette and cold coronas. Ah bliss.