August29I knew I was in trouble when Ruben asked if I had good shoes. The last time he asked me this, I found myself climbing on all 4s without any gear, up the mountain of Montseratt, dangling over thousands of feet of exposure…..With him saying “caution” over and over again…
This day he wants to take me to a beautiful beach that is about 2 hrs from his home. Calmontgo’ beach in Las Cala, Spain is the destination for the night and the next day until we leave for Barcelona to catch the train to Switzerland where I will be his guest as he works the night train. I ask if I should bring my bicycle and he said no….we take the hiking route to the beach. Ok..so I really knew I was about to embark on another adventure.
Like most places on the cost of the Mediterranean, it is developed for tourist. American food, trinkets, snorkeling, paddle boats, disco tecka’s, fru-fru drinks with little umbrella’s, and too many tourists… Ruben gets enough of tourists on the train; he prefers places with no people. So if you can imagine you must go where a car or train will take you, a place that most people would not find because it is not meant to be found.
Caution…Caution… the fimilar words with the Spanish accent is what I heard as we begin the hike (with my good shoes)- to only look at a possible camping spot. 30 minutes this way, we go to investigate if we can camp at the “house on the beach”, then we will return by hiking back 30 minutes, eat dinner, and get the gear, and then return by hiking another 30 minutes to the camping place that may be available…all in the dark….
Up and down a rocky path, that narrows along the cliff to expose a 600 ft drop. I am on 4’s again, balancing grasping for dear life on portions of the trail. Occasionally, Ruben looks back and says,”Are you ok?”. I just say, “bien”…what else could I say? I look up and Ruben is walking perfectly erect, arms crossed, not even out to balance. I just giggle because I termed him the Spanish Mountain Goat during our last hiking adventure and it remains true this night as we walk in the dark with light from our headlamps and the full moon..We reach the house on the beach… Well not what I expected, but much cooler. It is actually an old war bunker from the Spanish War.
A perfect and appropriate location for what Ruben termed the “War of the Mosquitoes”-and can I say Spanish mosquitoes apparently prefer Spanish blood compared to American. Nonetheless, a perfect place to remain dry, and awake early the next day, close to a favorite swimming place of Ruben’s.
I just thought I was going to lay around on the rock beach and occasionally take a dip in the sea to cool myself, but I was surprised with flippers and a snorkel. He actually told me the night before, but I guess I did not understand until he whipped them out of his bag. I just thought he wanted to swim. You see most of our conversations is in broken English with charades and sound effects mingled in place of the “missing” words…so sometimes we get things a little mixed up. Anyways… Looks like when I was on the computer in the village he went to the store so I could see the “little fish”.
So another day of getting my work done while sunning myself in the sun; seeing the Mediterranean; swimming with little fish; hiking along a gorgeous cliff edge; and learning more about life from my Spanish friend. I guess the only bad part is the mosquitoe bites that continue to itch. I guess..no… I know I am a lucky girl….
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