By Ben Ade
After making the descent into Barcelona, we carefully navigated our way through the crowded network of streets. Passing such colourful sights as a stark naked woman performing slightly mental looking yoga on a busy pavement, whilst police and ambulance services attempted to bring an end to her performance. Parking was found on a residential street near Park Guell, bringing us now onto the subject of the cities much celebrated architect. Antoni Gaudi, 1852 - 1926, was an architect like no other. Pioneering many new ideas and breaking the strict, time worn regimes of common techniques. Rather than elaborate paperwork, he chose to create models of his build beforehand, which he could shape and contort to his minds design. As if from a fairytale, his buildings take on dream-like shapes and twists, always with a visually pleasing effect. Many projects were taken on throughout the country during his lifetime. The most well known are the Barcelonian installments, Park Guell and the Sagrada Familia cathedral. The park was going to be a self contained urban area, with markets, housing and recreational spaces. Although completed, its original purpose was never fulfilled, becoming more a visitor attraction of sorts. The intricate detailing of every last piece remains a wonder, skillful ironwork creations, innovative tiling work, mazes of paths and all spread with eye-popping colour combinations. The Cathedral remains unfinished to this day, with new additions constantly added. The continuations are kept as close as possible to Gaudis original visions and concepts. Quite difficult to describe the scale of this place, we were left in awe by its presence. Always a man of traditional religion, this influence shows in the detailed statues and reinactions of bible scenes which climb the towering spires. Stone animals of all descriptions climb and slither from corners or sills. Stained glass windows appear from seemingly impossible crevaces, whilst countless stone and coloured tile spires stretch for the heavens, their tips piercing stray clouds. Judging by the amounts of paying visitors to the park and cathedral, Barcelona's economy may depend almost entirely on the visions of this inspired man. In later life Gaudi took very little interest in his appearance or self, becoming entirely dedicated to the Sagrada Familia. Sadly he was hit by a tram and lost consiousness in the city, his shabby clothes and unkept appearance meant not a single passer by even stopped to help him. Eventually found by a worried friend on the search, the following day, his condition was now too far gone to recover, dying at age 74. Some more on Dali discoveries now. He bought a house/castle in the village of Pubol, primarily for his long term companion and muse, Gala, to reside in. We visited here whilst in the area. Dali was only permitted to visit by written invitation, just one of many notable points to their unusual relationship. There was a definite air of grandeure, but quirky rather than pompous. The castle still retains many of its medieval features and layout. The upstairs houses Galas huge collection of designer gowns and dresses, whilst the Piano room contains enormous wall hangings and murals. An interesting glass coffee table, with chicken legs, draws the eye to the surface. What I initially thought was an image below the glass turns out to be a hole below the table, viewing to the downstairs room and a complete stuffed white horse. The gardens offer refreshing fountains and pools along with numerous sculptures. Amongst these are the famous elephants, with stilted bird legs, complete with water spouting from their sky high trunks. A daily use car remains parked in the yard, an old Datsun 180b estate. In the garage a horse drawn carriage resides, along with Gala's Cadillac. When she died in 1982, aged 87, her body was transported to the castle in this car, parked still as it was that day. Her body is entombed in the downstairs crypt, a sombre place, overlooked by a scatter of statues, including a lifesize giraffe which stands eternally in a dark corner. Dali found life near impossible after her death, he moved from his home in Portaliggat to the Pubol castle to be near Gala, never returning to his beloved seaside property. Numerous suicide attempts were thwarted and after a fire broke out in his room, possibly self inflicted, he was housed in the theatre-museum in Figueres. Here under the watch of guardians he lived until his death in 1989, aged 84. Allegations of guardians forcing his hand to sign blank canvases and ledger papers in large amounts, during his final years of failing health, have led to later works attributed to Dali becoming scrutinized and viewed with suspicion. Although the crypt at Pubol has 2 caskets, his death bed wish was to be buried below the Museum in Figueres, which is where he now rests. We are grateful of the oppurtunity to step into the fantastical past worlds of these great minds, learning much on their inspirations and creations. Our travels shall now continue, soon crossing the open border to France, following the sun drenched coastline.
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By Ben Ade Our couple of weeks in Catalunya have been great, the country really is bursting with colour and individuality. Nowhere is this better demonstrated than in the artworks of Salvador Dali and architecture of Antoni Gaudi. Both men were born and raised here so we decided to spend some time exploring their past lives and legacies.
Dali, 1904-1989, was a very interesting character to say the least. Many people will be familiar with his numerous surrealist and modernist paintings, often filled with hidden stories and visual tricks. Commonly reproduced imagery includes his melting clocks and decorated, stilt legged elephants. He was also a keen showman, making several appearances in film, television and publications. The area he made home was on the Cap de Creus, a small fishing village, called Portaliggat, for the best part of 50 years. Rather than visiting the flashy museum in nearby Figueres, the town of his birth, we decided to book a reservation to his old home for a visit. To see the actual place in which the majority of his artworks were conceived and completed. No average home was this, converted from a row of fisherman's cottages, then joined together and floors added. All his prized possessions are still here, as left, so many oddities and antiquities he collected over years. The entry hall greets you with a stuffed polar bear, a gift from a friend apparently. A maze of rooms to explore then commences, including an extensive library and office. The bedroom has custom mirrors on the windows, installed to reflect the morning sun, he wanted to be among the first men to see it each day. A cage also sits, which housed crickets, the sound of which helped Dali sleep. Mannequins, taxidermy and imagery cover much of the wall space throughout, one room in particular is entirely covered with photographs of his acquaintances, family and magazine appearances, even including a selfie with Pablo Picasso! His studio was very impressive, still with two of his incomplete paintings, as he left them. A special pulley system fitted to the wall, enabled him to paint huge canvases. The Oval sitting room was designed for acoustics, although quite small and full of furnishings, any noises are instantaneously echoed back to you very loudly. Now ascending the stairs we reach the numerous exterior terraces, here the famous rooftop eggs make an appearance, along with many fantastic sculptures. The luxurious areas for dinner parties and also swimming pool, of phallic shape, are quite a sight. After the visit we camped, high up on the Cap de Creus peninsula, this is the Eastern most point in Spain. The rock formations here are quite awesome in themselves. Walking these shores, as Dali would many a time, we kept noticing areas instantly reminiscent of his paintings. Whether it be the lines of craggy cliffs which distort and discolour with the sunset, or the giant pumice like rocks all around, which appear as if melting and at times defying gravity. Spending the night here was just perfect, to complete the evening came a series of mysterious meteors/shooting stars plummeting down from the universe above, as we sat watching upon the cliffs, one glowing bright green before burning out just above the mountains. Of course highs are often balanced by lows of some kind. The next morning a local 'concerned citizen' decided to call the village policia. Seemingly worried about a vehicle camping near the shore, outside of the terribly uninspiring, highly overpriced, designated campsite down in the village, shock horror. Even though this was a small, general use public car park aimed at tourists, with no nearby houses whatsoever or signs indicating camping restrictions. Perhaps our far and distant presence slightly disturbed their spanning view of the cliffs from atop their hillside mansion or, more likely, we just dont conform to the narrow mind span of some residents. The friendly, smartly dressed policemen, overjoyed with a real call out, explained that they have to respond as it was a filed complaint, kindly escorting us 'down the nick' and actually issuing a fine for the highly criminal activity of...wait for it...camping. They then attempted to give us a small, recently captured, stray cat in a sturdy wooden box. This had obviously been last weeks big call out for the rugged boys in blue, all three members of staff had been on red alert and caring for said feline within the station since then. We politely declined the strange offer and left the odd village with haste. This was a handy reminder that central Europe and France is not far away, wild camping will likely have to be outwith public view or in designated car parks now, if to avoid the cold grasp of todays social convention. By Ben Ade On a night time stroll, as you do, I stopped to get a moonlit picture of a large monument upon a hill. Merely having time to set up the camera support, when suddenly from around a banking arrived a group of professional night walkers. Complete with walking poles and plethora of LED light attachments, one man stopped to look at the statue for a moment, head torch illuminating all. I just had time to dial in the numbers and hit the shutter before they strode off again at a pace which put my leisurly walks to shame.
By Melissa Shaw Costa Brava surprised us with it's beauty and abundance of interesting landscapes. Medieval towns and villages with breath-taking cathedrals dominate our approach. Tourists and locals share the squeeze down the narrow street passages. Traders demonstrate a stunning collection of ceramics and pottery within their workshops and stalls. Gentle hikes, along the rocky coves between Palamos and Platja d'Aro, tempt with a selection of postcard picture beaches. The ocean water is clear as glass, it's no surprise that scuba diving and snorkelling is a popular hobby here. During a day trip to Girona, we found that there are also many talented graffiti artists decorating the streets with colour and interesting designs. Farmers have also added a burst of colour to their fields. Stretching along roadsides and into the distance, sunflower fields can be seen in all their full flower glory. Alfalfa plants also join in the infusion, adding succulent hints of purple and green to the otherwise already harvested crop fields. One of the truly inspiring experiences that we had the joy to engage in was reuniting with Jakob, Margrit and friendly dog Chichi. We met them earlier in our travels through Andalucia, back in April. Like ourselves, they enjoy wild camping with their customised Land Rover Defender, designed by Jakob. We had made arrangements to catch up with them at their home within the Costa Brava region. I'm sure Kaerus was also keen to be reunited with her younger and slightly more slender friend too, the lovely black 90 station wagon. Planning to set up camp in their drive way for a night, the couple very kindly offered us the use of their self contained luxury apartment, complete with the use of private swimming pool. Having been on the road and camping for over four months, we have adjusted well to sleeping in our cosy bed in the sky. However, we were very grateful to lie upon a 'real' double bed! We felt like royalty for a few days and nights, having access to a bathroom with a shower and a flushing toilet too. The amazement of so much space in the kitchen area also made my dreams come true...this calls for a little baking of Scottish shortbread. Margrit and Jakob demonstrated such kindness, making us feel perfectly at home, away from home. The amazing luxury holiday apartment is also available for rent to anyone planning a sunshine retreat to this region, a great wee caravan is set up for guests here too, this is also available to rent. Give Margrit and Jakob an email with any enquiries; [email protected] By Ben Ade An ancient and important trail from Villafranca to Barcelona, known as the 'Cami Ral'. We followed parts of this route along un-sealed tracks, eventually ending up in the city itself. There are areas where the deep ruts, made by carriages and carts, carrying Catalan kings or goods to trade, are still plainly visible. A final stop here, near the highest point of the trail, gave us the unusual opportunity of wild camping aside this buzzing metropolis. A relatively peaceful spot, although for an hour or so in the evening, then again in the morning, many Barcelonan residents run and cycle past on their daily exercise routines. We mutually look upon each other at these times, with gazes of curiosity, as if from a different species. Us, making ourselves at home in this suburban area which rarely sets eyes upon travellers these days, eating dinner or breakfast aside their regular path, with the world as our balcony. Them, rhythmically pacing past by foot and bike, vacuum sealed into the latest brands of shiny lycra bodysuits, neon Nike running trainers and electronic heart rate monitors beeping along with their i-pod playlists. The panoramic vistas of the city were a real pleasure to behold. We could watch the constant stream of trains arriving, traffic passing through and aeroplanes taking off as the next one comes in to land. Startled by a very loud noise in the trees beside us, further investigation was required. A wild boar came crashing through the undergrowth, like a miniature derailed freight train, complete with four piglet carriages in tow. The convoy barrelled off into the distance at high speed in the direction of a large housing estate. The following day would no doubt be hectic. We plan to drive Kaerus directly into Barcelona and then park, giving us the day to explore by foot. Suitably refreshed from a pleasant nights stay, camp is packed up. We follow the old track ahead, which drops down steeply now, descending us into the bustling streets below. By Melissa Shaw
Our trusty Land Rover rolls over the dry Spanish soil with such ease. We are destined for the famous cava county of Catalonia now. Vineyards stretch for kilometres across flat dusty plains, with the odd farmer inspecting his crop that is soon to be harvested. It is not long before we begin to see the difference of flags that proudly hang from balconies, shops and town masts. The fight for Catalonia to become independent is very must still on the cards, with demonstrations of "Si!" displayed in a variety of inventive ways. Even down to the branding of novelty stickers on all the motor cars. It appears that they have adjusted from the Spanish bull symbol to the Catalonian donkey. The native tongue is also different with locals combining a little French with a little Spanish. Many residents feel strongly that they are very much an independent country, neither Spanish nor French just simply Catalonian. We soon arrive into Salou, along the Costa Daurada coastline, on a June midsummers day. The sunshine is eager to show off her abilities making the air is stiflingly hot and 'sticky'. The seaside town, streets littered with inflatable animals, a rainbow of lilo arrangements and burrows of souvenirs that can tempt even the biggest of kids. Streams of tourists flock to the beach to enjoy and indulge in a good dose of vitamin D. Beach towels and parasols state their claim to their patch of sand as users lay to bake, followed by a cooling dip in the sea. Upon the promenade, children's eyes are fixed as they press their little faces against the glass, keen to sample the endless array of ice creams and sorbets on offer at one of many ice cream parlours. Their parents advise 'that they must help' with this eating process or the consequence of it melting and sadly plummeting to the floor with the heat will be devastating. Meanwhile away from the beach, there is a busy flurry as locals dart and scurry like ants maintaining a nest. The supermarket carparks are at full capacity, with trolley loads full to the brim, getting packed into car boots. Enormous and colourful cakes are loaded carefully into the back seats. Some roads have become a mad dash of road rage too, with horns beeping and each car trying to undercut another. Anyone would think it was Christmas in the Uk! The festivities of Saint John, are "quite a big deal to us Catalonian's" one local girl discussed with me. She continued to mention that "we really look forward to it, because it's a holiday and we all like to get together". I read also that this flurry of preparation is due to the shops and other conveniences closing the day before and the day after. This explains everyone stocking up for the worlds end then. We had planned to visit Salou on our rough route deliberately, to catch the festivities that Saint John had to offer. As we stroll along the beach promenade around 8.30pm, loud bangs and explosions continued repeatedly. As we drew closer to the main area we took a moment to observe what was going on. Surely it can't be fireworks, for it's still daylight? Shortly after, it was made clear with loud bang followed by a scream, that it was children of all ages ranging from five to thirty five setting off firecrackers and small fireworks. A walk across the beach was also a bit of a mine field, for fear that I stood on a firecracker and land on a Catalonian family picnic. Each year, many Catalonian's enjoy bonfire celebrations in memory of Saint Joan. The flame of Canigo is carried from the very top of the mountain and tours it's way throughout the villages before reaching the main town destination of Salou, where the three bonfires along the coastline are ignited. The pyrotechnic parade accompanied the flame throughout the streets and displaying a spectacular show to the crowds. People dressed as witches and demons yielding Catherine wheels on large sticks high above. The group danced to the beat of the drums and bells providing an increase of excitement to the lighting of the bonfires. During the build up to the parade locals enjoyed a fascinating water fountain display of laser lights, water impulses and music. A live orchestra, "The Fania" enclosed the centre with folk dance that had people jiving and shuffling. The burning of the bonfire was very short lived, as it was built of flammable ceder branches. Although, the firework display was wonderful to watch accompanied by a young Spanish live band that kicked us off to the "Saint John beach party" that would continue late into the evening. As we stood on the beach, in bare feet (not winter hats and boots similar to our 5th November bonfire celebrations), we gazed happily at the explosions of colours and light that infused our midsummers night. By Ben Ade Stepping into a public convenience the other day I was greeted by this sight at my feet. The poor snake didnt know what to do, it had obviously just captured a rodent of some kind and was about to digest. Unfortunately Samuel L. Jackson (of 2006 Hollywood film 'Snakes on a Plane' fame) was no where in sight to lend a hand. I did a quick about turn, leaving the creature in peace.
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