The power of popcorn

There's much to be said about Spain, as it is with every country we've been to thus far. The hardest part, certainly, is not being able to say it all. Words can hardly describe the experiences, the places and even more so, the people. Nevertheless, here is a foolish attempt, hoping to give you a taste of an adventure in Espanõl. 

 

3 people. 2 barefoot. 1 mission. 0€ . 

About 8 hours into this mission, we're sitting at Maccas (McDonald's, place of peace #home #what's_new), eating popcorn, also +/- 300km away from our starting point in Aranjuez. It is now around 19h30 and it's still light outside. We're about to finish our popcorn that we got for free from the cinemas - we just asked for it - when the classic, destiny-defining question is asked, "if you had 100€, what would you do?" There was only one answer. It was a beautiful moment of unity and consensus and oneness - purity even. "Let's Travel."

 

It was in that moment that we decided to venture on, vying to reach Valencia and possibly Barcelona. For the time being, these were simply hopeful prospects, little knowing what it might amount to. The price to get from Albacete, where we were currently at, to Barcelona is 56€ via train. Thus it would seem that our travels would continue as per usual - hitchhike. There are few feelings as glorious as the one you get when someone pulls over to give you a ride. Wow. Our next ride came in the form of a Valencian Basketball player / chemical engineer - Carlos - who would after some 2 hours of driving, also offer up his apartment for us to shelter for the night. My first 'couch surf' experience. It was epic. 

 

There was however one small 'complication', as Juan mentioned, one of the 13 rides we hitched within our 3 day adventure. It was raining. (Juan got us all the way to Albacete - the place we thought would be our 'destination', or simply the start of our failed 'kamino' walk experience. He invited us into his home to meet his wife, Lourdes, and children. They couldn't help but to laugh at our crazy situation - 'locos is lekker' [crazy is cool] - and offered us a shower and snacks before we to continued). Because of this slight 'complication', staying in Valencia wasn't all too exciting anymore, and seeing as Carlos was heading in the direction of Barcelona we thought it best to continue our attempt of reaching Barcelona. 

 

Soon after parting ways with Carlos, the road authorities collected us and... Well, what else was there to do but help these crazy South Africans on with their journey. Another leg of our journey was covered, and in great style. Up to that point we thought we were nailing it, and then this, Jacko, a Serbian truck driver, curious about our accent, offered a ride all the way to Barcelona. Glorious. A truck bed, with truck driver food and truck driver coffee. It was insane, and it lasted close to 3 hours. If anything, this would surely be the cherry on the top, nail in the coffin, in over my head experience, but it didn't end there. Hello Barcelona.  

 

We walked north on the 'diagonal', the main road through Barcelona admiring and ingesting at the same time this historical work of art. That's what the city is, a masterpiece. From Gaudi architecture, to ice cream vendors - 'just one taste', is all we asked - and then the marina with the beach alongside. All in all it took us over 2 hours to cover less than 2 prominent streets within Barca. And then of course, Maccas. Always a safe haven when it comes to food scavenging and shelter for an evening. That wouldn't be the case this time around. 

 

Both boldly and humbly, we asked those walking the beachfront if they wouldn't mind taking us in. We received some promising responses, but none to seal the deal for us. An elderly couple walking their dog passed by and we presented our offer to be their guests for the evening. Our request is way beyond common human practice as you can imagine, and looking at the confused faces of Merce' and Luiz as they heard us out, was evidence of the absurdity. It took them some time to process what had just hit them. They were simply taking a walk along the beachfront with their dog, Xena, and obliged to consider our request as they walked on. After 30min, they returned from their walk to the same spot we met, close to Maccas, and... they took up our offer. 

 

A slow progression proceeded as we shared more about us, and then digging into more about them. We entered their apartment and were warmly greeted by their daughter, Marina. As the evening progressed, so did our connection. Before we knew it we were sitting 6 at their table dining on pesto pasta, salad, and a classic sardine/onion dish. And wine, heavenly wine. The fellowship was exactly that, heavenly. Thinking back on that moment, it's a scene that any director would want to use in a movie. It was moving in the way that it was initiated and powerful in the way it played out. If not a picture of heaven, then I don't know what is. We slept comfortable that evening. The kind of comfortable that you get when you feel at home for the first time in a long time.

 

Getting back to the mission part of our adventure, we had to be back in Aranjuez, our base, the following day. Little did we realize that from Barcelona, we would have to travel nearly 700km to get there. We woke up early to an amazing coffee and light breakfast. To add to our overwhelmingly blessed trip, Luiz offered to help us along our journey dropping us off 30km out of Barcelona in a promising direction. Words cannot describe the fatherly figure he represented at that point. Truly, we were touched. 

 

Catching rides to Madrid, the most central and obvious point to get to wasn't as easy as we'd hoped. For the first time we experienced a slight drought, not knowing whether we would make it to Aranjuez, let alone in time for our flight out the next day! I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Somehow we just knew. Finding more help from traffic police, and finally our greatest hero Patrick, who found us in our 2 hour desert stage, in the heat of the day, 400km out of Madrid, outside the small town of Fraga. He brought us all the way to Madrid airport, a common destination between us. A little destiny if you ask me. He was French, with a very impressive beard, and although we could barely communicate, we shared a silent connection. It sure was something. 

 

From the airport we split up to ask around for 14€ so we could catch the train to Aranjuez. Together the ladies of the team, both more appealing and manipulative than I, returned with full amount between the 2 of them. I came back empty-handed. Not much of a breadwinner I know, the entire trip carried this same pattern. Clocking in at home close to 10pm, a jubilant feeling between us, and an indescribable story too. In honor of Luke 10, thank you Jesus. 

 

Currently, our entire team is back together as we fly to Athens layover, and then Cairo, Egypt.

Traveling sure does offer a great deal of time to explore. And every opportunity there is to reflect is definitely one to take hold of. So if I'm not reading, I might as well write. To all of you reading this, "blessings".