Adventures in Andorra with the Mysterious Italian Bikers

Although I have spread my wings and left the Italians' nest after a week, we have kept in contact, emailing back and forth, making several shopping trips for the new apartment, and now, a trip to Andorra in the sidecar of their motorcycle!

I donned a magenta helmet and climbed into the sidecar, Luigi revved the engine and cranked up Duke Ellington, and Cetina lithely mounted behind him, dressed in a miniskirt and black boots. We set off through the streets of Toulouse, passers-by staring at us. I must admit I enjoyed the attention. To be part of their world, even for one trip, was like being in a film. I laughed out loud at the sheer craziness of the situation. One week prior, I was friendless and windowless in Toulouse, crying my eyes out... Look at me know! Not only do I have a visa and a new apartment, I'm riding in the sidecar of a motorcycle, careening through the Pyrénées mountains with two mysterious Italian authors!

Setting off from Toulouse, we were very soon in the mountains, a breathtaking sight to behold, even without snow in the heat of summer. We paused for a quick paella in a tiny French village in the mountains, and were soon in the tiny nation of Andorra.

Landlocked between France and Spain, Andorra is the 6th smallest country in Europe, known for being a tourist attraction and a tax haven. The reason behind our trip, I came to learn, was that Luigi wanted to restock on duty-free cigarettes. Catalan is the official language, although French and Spanish are widely understood.

I must admit that I was disappointed by the tawdriness of the cities of Pas de la Casa and Andorra la Vella (the capital.) The appearance of the shops and architecture was very cheap, and dare I say, UGLY. Framed by the majestic Pyrénées, these cities seemed ridiculously out of place. However, if you can spend as little time as possible in the cities, and immerse yourself in the savage natural beauty, Andorra is a paradise of jagged rock formations, green hills, and an abundance of precariously perched grazing sheep and goats wearing bells around their necks. This is easily some of the most dramatic scenery I have ever seen in my life.

The complicity of Cetina and Luigi is admirable. They have no need to communicate with words. They clearly are accustomed to spending hours and days at a time on the road, and of course conversation is impossible with the roar of the motor. And yet, observing them, they are in constant contact. A touch of a gloved hand, a pointed finger, a nod, a gesture indicating a desire to full over... they function seamlessly. Dressed head to toe in black, speaking French in rolling Italian accents, they truly belong in a movie. The sturdiness of Luigi is complemented by the delicate frame of Cetina, whose long curly hair is untamable even under a helmet... there is an artistic quality that I recognize in these two, and one of these days I will have to paint a watercolor portrait of them.

After a long day of hunting for duty free cigarettes, motorcycle accessories, and fuel, we shared a lovely meal (and several sangrias between Cetina and I) in Andorra la Vella before heading back to Toulouse. While most bikers have a reputation for being speed demons, Luigi drove steadily, handling hairpin turns with grace. A gentle rain began to fall, but I felt secure enough to drift off to sleep, despite the blaring blues CD and roaring motor.

It's amazing the difference a few short days and a few amazing new friends can make for one's morale. I am feeling more confident about my new life in Toulouse.

Cetina and Luigi serve a much higher purpose than simply renting me a room for a week. Whether they realize it or not, they have saved me from my own self-doubts and despair. What may have been just a cigarette run for them has been one of the most beautiful experiences of my life.

Spanish Holiday

After two full weeks of teaching, I was nevertheless fully in need of a break by the time Toussaint (All Saints) vacation arrived.  Without hesitation, I opted for a solo trip to Barcelona, mostly to realize my longtime dream of visiting the work of Antoni Gaudi, my favorite architect.  I also decided to take a few day trips to Girona, a picturesque town, Figueres, the birthplace of surrealist painter Salvador Dali, and also to the mountaintop monastery of Montserrat, a holy site known for an apparition of the Virgin, reachable only by cable car.  

Although solo travel can be lonely, it also affords the ability to see whatever your heart desires without having to satisfy a group.  No one to annoy or be annoyed by, no one to set a schedule.  I basically woke each morning and went wherever my whim took me, which worked very well.  I was fortunate enough to meet a number of lovely people at various points in my journey, with whom I explored, chatted, and dined.  Also, my French came in quite handy since quite a few French were vacationing for Toussaint.  Whenever I was lost (often!), it was only a matter of time before I heard French or English being spoken and could ask for directions.

Barcelona was... chaotic, overwhelming, confusing, and crowded... and is by far one of the most delightful places I've ever seen! 

I fell completely in love with the voluptuous curves of Gaudi's architecture that give the city its unparalleled character, the Spanish guitar music, the tapas, paella, and of course, the Xocolate con churros, the blend of Roman, Gothic, and Catalan art nouveau architecture, the salty Mediterranean breeze, the lingering presence of my heroes: Picasso and Miro, and the blurred line between religion, sensuality, and legend that colors the city like no other. 

I was haunted by the lore of one of Barcelona's patron saints, Eulalia, a virgin saint interred in crypt of the cathedral who was said to survive a series of 13 torturous acts (which included having her breasts lopped off, being rolled down a hill in a barrel lined with knifes, crucifixion on an X-shaped cross, and being burned alive.) After still refusing to recant her faith, she was finally decapitated, a white dove flying from her neck. While she clearly existed (her house still stands, and her body remains) one has to wonder where her true story, religion and myth begin or end. To me, this evokes the entire essence of Barcelona.  Too fantastical to be true, but nevertheless, there it is, in front of your eyes, able to be tasted, touched, and carried away in your heart forever.  

La Sagrada Familia, the crowning masterpiece of Gaudi, still under construction for at least 20 more years! 

Interior of La Sagrada Familia

A Gaudi paradise, the whimsical Park Güell.

View of La Sagrada Familia from Montjuïc

Barcelona's version of the Bridge of Sighs

Interior of Catedral Basílica de Barcelona

Cloisters of  Catedral Basílica de Barcelona

Bob, a guy I met at a flamenco performance who became a travel buddy for the next day

I'm in love with these light posts

La Pedrera, one of Antoni Gaudi's many masterpieces

The roof and curious chimneys of La Pedrera

Casa Batlló, my personal favorite of Gaudi's architecture 

Casa Batlló

Casa Batlló, on the roof

Spanish guitar concert at Santa Maria Del Pi

Placa Reial

Girona

Girona

Roman baths in Girona

Salvador Dali museum in Figueres, his hometown.

Raechel, an Australian travel buddy I met in Girona.

Cathedral of Girona

Mountaintop monastery of Montserrat

Montserrat

Montserrat Basilica

The Black Madonna of Montserrat

Montserrat 

Churros con Xocolate, a sinfully delectable way to end my journey. (Actually almost every day of my trip ended this way) Yes, that IS liquified dark chocolate topped with a cloud of heavy cream.