Pedruxulla Gran

The farm is great. In both personality and size. It's 350 hectares which is about 860 acres of mountainous and rocky terrain juxtaposed with terraced olive orchards and gardens and meticulous medieval architecture. When we asked Tolo how far the farm went, he replied rather nondescriptly saying, "You see the mountain? Well the farm continues about a kilometer over the other side of that." The farm can trace its lineage back a thousand years to the occupation of the Moors, who conquered, settled and farmed this island. Many of the buildings (there are about 4 houses on the property, I say about cause I think there may be more that we have yet to see) reflect ancient architectural methods like stone and mortar.
There is a massive and lengthy aqueduct on the property. While the water now runs through pipes atop the aqueduct, the water used to flow long distances from a upper cistern or well into the house over miles of ceramic roof tiles.
The main house has about 1,000 rooms, or so. We haven't had a tour yet but it is huge. The serf quarters alone have 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. We have taken the downstairs room just off the main courtyard. The owners are American, the wife inherited the property from her father. The father lived here for 25 years and put a ton of time and money into the main house and built another house up the road.

In the next post I'll tell more about our tasks and adventures including a terrifying night hike and being stopped by the Spanish fuzz.

Our Santa Maria

We have had a fun few days in Barcelona but now we make a transition from the big city to the farm. Much like Columbus, who sailed away from this very port, we will sail out into the open water for something new. Except our Santa Maria is 7 story yellow and blue ferry. Mallorca is in many ways like Hawaii, 1. island, 2. its paradise like, 3. everything costs a lot, that is all. Although we are paying passengers, the real money is made on shipping goods to the island on ferries or other shipping vessels. Everything from cars, to water, to speedos are hauled from the mainland to the Balearic Islands.

Our transition was mucho rocky, let me give you some highlights: We had to shlep our backpacks all the way to the port only to realize that we couldn't store them at the port. We then had to haul them back to town and store them at a train station. I was in a foul mood.
Rachel did not sleep at all on our 7 hour ferry ride (which departed at midnight). She was not in a good state of mind.
The first person we met on Mallorca was super unfriendly. Rachel (to bus driver in Spanish):"Does this bus go to a train station that can take us to Pollenca?" Bus Driver: "This is a bus. It's leaving so get on or get off." We got off.
We couldn't contact Tollo, the shepard, to tell him we had arrived and come get our tired butts. When we finally did get a hold of him from the Western Union store, we had gone to the wrong place. We were in Port de Pollenca not in Pollenca village (c'mon!).
Once we finally arrived we were able to relax and wonder about the place at our leisure, it was nice.
We did have some good times too. We hung out on the beach quite a lot. Rachel got a "massage" on the beach. Some guy on the ferry gave us his pasta. Rachel bought a bracelet. We ate more delicious sandwiches. There are a lot of people to stare at and be stared at.

So like Columbus we sailed, we met some friendly and not so friendly natives, and we gave them all small pox... I mean we got some much needed rest before next day when we'd go to work.

Unmet expecations and wild pigs can't be broken

We have a travel book that at times has been invaluable and at other times isn't worth the paper its printed on, like today. In said travel book, we learned that pork is the unofficial meat of Spain and is especially good on Mallorca (an island where we'll soon be farming). Spaniards love a good pig but you can't find bacon in many places unless the cater to white westerners.

We checked out of our downtown hostel into a cheaper one just outside of town. To clarify, just outside of town seems just a bit further when you have 45 lbs on your back in 85 degree weather. And a bit cheaper means instead of being a block from a metro station, our new digs were about a 1/2 mile up an unforgiving steep hill on top of a mountain. By the time we arrived we were soaking in our own sweat, exhausted and an hour early for check-in. Hurry-up and wait.

After checking in we ventured back into town to Mt. Tibidabo. This Barcelona high point has an amusement park (built in 1908) that employs Spanish pirates to amuse children and frustrate their parents. The park is very expensive and has little parking which is frustrating to all. This mountain top experience, as described in our travel book is a must see (correcto) for its views of the city, with a small cliche church on its summit which can be avoided(no correcto). Rather than hike the snake like roads to the top we took a funicular (cable tram) for a few Euros. We checked out the church (which is actually 2 churches built in the Ne0-gothic style) and discovered 2 weddings taking place, one in each chapel. Being a committed voyeur and tourist I (I made Rachel follow) went in and had a seat. We watched a few minutes of each ceremony then went on self guided tours through any doors they may have foolishly left unlocked. We found the Tibidobo church quaint rather than cliche and would highly recommend going on a Saturday in the summer to see endless parade of wedding goers decked out in their best.

From there, our travel book recommends a walking tour that visits some of the local sites while enjoying a comfortable walk through friendly neighborhoods then finally ending at a restaurant with cheap sandwiches the size of your head (Jamon no doubt). Well there were a couple things correct about this statement. There was plenty of walking and neighborhoods. Other than that the streets are poorly marked so we wandered for miles, we happened on many of the local sites including the incredible Park de Guilet by Gaudi (where I almost didn't make it to the bathroom and had to seriously contemplate an backcountry duke experience in an historic public park, but I made it), and when we found the restaurant literally 3 hours later, it was so smoky we walked in and immediately walked out sin cabeza-sized sandwiches.

We returned to our hostel, hostel Everest via the Al-Can for some much needed rest. Our beds were one of many in the room we share with many other travelers. Our bed in particular was on the first floor next to several large windows. In order to avoid recreating the temperature of a Turkish bathhouse one must keep the windows open at all times. After we'd turned the lights out we heard some gutteral noises and rustling in the bushes. Now I'm 2 ft from an open window that is at eye level when prostrate, so I'm feeling rather vulnerable as the unknown beast drew steadily closer. I'm thinking is some sort of hybrid of a warthog and a squirrel. A bushy tailed monster with razor fangs, incredible dexterity and can be cute one moment then on your neck sucking the life out of you the next. Well I wasn't far off. It was a virtual herd of wild pigs with their piglets in toe, or hoof. They didn't look so scary under the blue tinged light of my head lamp and they certainly couldn't bite my jugular. But they did look sorta delicious. I'll have to be sure to look for that shop tomorrow if our crappy travel guide will help us get there.

Sagrada Familia-By Rick Dikilous

Sagrada Familia is Rick Dikilous. And although Rick did not create the Gaudi's masterpiece Sagrada Familia, he is correct in saying that it's ridiculous. Said to be the Catechism in stone, Gudi gave 40 years of his life to building the church in his Modernista style before being killed by a bus in 1926. Work began in 1882 on the massive church which tells the story of Christ's birth, life, death and as well as other Catholic stories. There is something different and metaphorical on every piece of stone. Like this colored glass window, which is only colored glass in the entire church, to represent the birth of Christ. I think Gudi and I would have gotten along (except he was a hermit and didn't talk to many people except a mortician, more later), he loved nature and modeled much of his style after God's created earth. Like this turtle which when it rains acts as a drain spout. During riots in 19, Gudi written plans were destroyed as well as all his models. After the Spanish Civil war, local architects reconstructed some of his models but many of his plans were burned or lost. As of 1967, other architects will have worked on Sagrada Familia for longer then Gudi himself. And they've kinda had to guess on some stuff. One archetcet has caught some flak for designing a section of the church that is different from Gudi's style so everyone will know thats is him and not Gudi. He designed all the stations of the cross including the metal door emblazoned with Jesus as well as other names (Joseph, Mary, etc. not Mildred or Hank) and symbols. The construction cranes have long been just as permanent as the towers themselves. Seems they'll be there a little longer as the projected finish date is , good luck.

So Gudi was super committed to his church and he needed many models for the sculptures on the exterior towers. He had a friend in town that was a morticion who would let him come in and check the bodies out. If the recently deceased fit Gudi's need, he'd make a mask out of their cold dead face to be forever entombed at Sagrada Familia, not a bad way to be remembered.

Check out what Gudi did to test the forces on the pillars before laying even one stone for the church. Out of string and weight specific sandbags he put together this model in an abandoned warehouse. After stringing all this together he calculated all the weights and stresses on the strings, with math or some crap, but he wasn't finished. Then he took a picture of the model and spun it upside down in order to achieve the desired effect. He created an upside-down version of Sagrada Familia out of string an small sandbags- Rick Dikilous.

All day bus tour

Last night we purchased some musilx-esc cereal and this morning remembered that we didn’t have anything to eat them out of. So I McGivered a set of suitable cutlery and matching bowls for the occasion out of a used 1.5 L water bottle. . A total success.
We use about 2-3 of these bottles a day. I see now why they banned these things in San Francisco.

At about 10am we boarded a double decker autoboos for an all day tour of Barcelona. We sat on the top like fools as the temperature was 30 degrees celcius. Not that that meant anything to us, but it was pretty dang warm. It seemed like we were putting on sunscreen every 20 minutes or so. I think we were gone for around 6 hours seeing all of the really awesome things in the city. For example, Sagrada Famila, Mount Tibidabo, the waterfront, the Columbus Monument, a bunch of museums, the Olymipic stuff from 1992 and some other stuff. Gaudi, the famous Spanish architect and artist did so much work in Barcelona! There seemed to be one of his surreal, dreamlike buildings in every district. I kept saying that his work was really weird…and it is, but really beautiful and unique. One of his apartment buildings is said to contain not one right angle. We circled places on our map that we wanted to go back and see later. It was probably the most comprehensive and convenient tour I’ve ever been on. And it was nice to sit for a while as our feet were already hurting from hauling our way too full backpacks.

After a quick shower and short rest, we headed back to the Ramblas to find some dinner. For some reason, we have had the hardest time either finding a place to eat or deciding on a place to eat. Is it because we’re cheap? Indecisive? Insecure? Not used to the late hours of eating? Anyway, we went to a tapas restaurant where they serve little plates of a lot of things. Our waitress could have cared less about us, but our Spanish li’l smokies sure were tasty. We strolled down the Ramblas some more to discover a crazy group of Turkish soccer fans chanting and cheering for some game that had just ended. What a bunch of crazies! We turned off onto some side road that a lot of other people seemed to be heading down and right into a creepy neighborhood jam packed with partying young folks. And by partying I mean sitting on the sidewalk drinking beer, smoking, smoking, smoking, and maybe playing hacky sack or some other hippie activities. A lot of the little grocery stores are owned by Indians. All night we were being offered red cans of beer-pronounced bearrrr. Let’s just say that they probably had a lot of success that night. At around midnight we went to the Placa de Catalunya Rach was bored so we saw some more Gaudi buildings and made our way home to Hostel Lenin.
Rachel and Jonathan

We made it!

Now, anyone that knows me knows that I can fall asleep anywhere. I struggled to fall asleep during most of our 14 hours in the air. From Portland to Phili then to Espana, I prayed for narcolepcy. Rachel made fleece sleeping bags for us with zippers in the bottom so we could unzip and run to the bathroom if necessary, genius.

Once in Spain we hopped on the Metro and made our way into town. Sleeping and hungry we wondered around looking for comeda and discovered a promising restaurant who hailed their food as an organic and healthy option. After a long (really long) look at the display case we ordered what looked to be an old Spanish specialty, turkey and mashed potatoes. What we discovered was that this healthy entree had to be microwaved on high for a minute before consuming. To top it off, just about that time "Mr Sand Man" came over the radio. And I thought to myself, why travel when all the comforts of home can be found the world over? But anyway our first Spanish meal was equivalent to Thanksgiving TV dinner. We may as well have packed cans of Man-which, which is truly a dream.

In other news Rachel fell, kinda hard actually. We were descending the staircase of our hostel (hostel Lenin), which has a lift but its the size of a coat closet and we can't seem to figure out which floor is which. Anyway, Rachel fell on her rear end down the cold marble steps. Her elbow hurt initially but she was no worse for the wear. Upon further examination we discovered that she had torn a hole in her underwear during her daring marble luge. The fall was mildly terrifying and a bit humorous.

We're having a great time.

Leave Tomorrow

We are out! We leave tomorrow. We're not sure if we'll be slaughtering sheep or sweeping floors or rooming the streets without place to stay (all of which are a real possibility), but we are looking forward to the adventure at hand.

If you'd like to throw a hello up to the Lord for me, feel free to mention that I'd like to be able to be content with what I have. Not possessions, but with what is at hand. There is much to see and do but I'd like to be as John Muir, completly satisfied in the details of a passing ant or whatever. We'll be all over but I'd like to be right wherever we are.

I'm not sure how much I'll write, Rach may write more. I plan on posting mucho fotos, however. We'll see you down the road and try to include you as much as you are interested.