Pull the emergency break and throw the gear into drive. This Volkswaagen is driving from Barcelona to Valencia and there is nothing anyone can do about it. We're driving and we're going to get lost. We're going to stop in a little village and ask for directions from its only occupant - an old lady with a cane. We're going to step in manure crossing through an old field. We're going to take pictures next to a centuries old farmhouse; dilapidated and ruined but perfectly beautiful. We're going to track in manure and smell shit for the rest of the ride. All this happens later so let me start at the beginning.
We said goodbye to the airport and friends in the early evening of November 16th. We'd see them again in Barcelona. Joe and Gus took a different flight. Iberia would go over the Atlantic. Face the same turbulance as we faced over Nova Scotia.
Miguel, Mike and I sat comfortably. Served excellent food from Lufthansa's world class chef (if you can believe that), drank a few glasses of wine, blared my portable speakers until - "Can you please lower that," came from the flight attendant. He was polite about it. Here come the ugly Americans, Europa and we're bringing Blue Steel and the rest of his cohorts like Hannibal leading his troops over the Pyranees. We're coming to make love to your tierra and dance in the darkness of your Gothic districts. We're coming to plant kisses on your steeples and drain the life out of our bodies. We're coming to transfuse our blood with your blue waters. On the plane, we chased the horizon looking for that Spanish morning but only seeing the glow somewhere way off where the sun is just beginning to rise.
Pit stop in Franfurt.
"Get out of the plane. Stretch your legs and get on the next flight to Barcelona!" The flight left about 530 in the morning. The darkness was still lurking through the German sky. The Germans... they still give me an eerie feeling. It's especially eerie when you see the police officers in their uniforms wearing eagle crests. I handed them my passport, walked through the metal detectors. I tried to speak the little German I knew but it was useless. "Danke" I would say and they would reply, "you're welcome".
Board the plane and go go go.
Our plane was mostly empty. The boys and I were able to stretch across the seats comfortably. When the plane took off it was all dark out. Miguel and I said something to each other when I was blinded by light beaming through the windows. I was afraid but this wasn't a Nazi attack. I turned around and saw the sun pouring in like a flood - it was rising and what a sunrise. The clouds were perfectly compacted and the sun lay on top of them and showing off its brightness.
I had hoped to sleep a little but who can sleep on a sunrise like that? Soon enough we'd meet the Spanish coast and it's blue Meditteranean waters. Port Lligat, the Pyranees, the little villages tucked along the beaches. White rooftops and tiny little people waking up as our man-made bird flew above them. What was sunrise for the Spaniards should have been sunset for us. Our bodies felt the time as late and not early. America was long gone and thank God.
This is the end of Day 1 of 9. There will be a new blog each day dedicated to one day from this fantastic adventure.