Catalonia: One to laugh about later

Saint Llorenc

After a brief stay in Pamplona we embarked on our six hour journey out of Basque country and into Spain's Catalonia region. First stop, Saint Llorenc, a quaint medieval village in the Pyrenees Mountains.

We arrive tired, hungry, and with full bladders but are taken back by the charm of this tiny village. We park and make our way to our hotel.  I was anxious to see where we were staying as I let husband book this one and he wasn't giving up any details.

When I saw the hotel I knew why. It was something out of a dream. My usually-not-so-romantic husband booked us a honeymoon worthy destination. He wanted to surprise me.

We come to the giant door and knock. And knocked some more. No answer. Doors are locked. Okay. What now? We walk around the village trying to find a phone we could use with no such luck.  Trying to find someone that spoke Spanish also proved to be tricky as everyone that we came across spoke only Catalan. Finally, we find someone and we learn that the hotel owners have taken a holiday to France.

We didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was getting late and all we wanted to do was cozy up in a bed and eat a hot meal. Luckily, the next city on our list wasn't too far away, so off to Figueres we go, home of the Dali Museum.

Driving through Figueres, we quickly decide this is not a place we want to stay. Not an attractive, nor a safe looking place. I pull out my trusty Spain edition of Lonely Planet to see where they recommend staying in the next city, Girona, 45 minutes away.

To Lonely Planet's credit they also say not to stay in Figureres. So off we go again, still tired, hungry, and with full bladders.  Going on almost 9 hours in the car, we arrive in Girona. I loved it at first glance but was too exhausted to really take it all in. We find parking, pull on our backpacks, and with our Lonely Planet book in hand, we set off to find our hostel.

Girona is in full swing, it's their annual Flower Festival, their biggest festival, and it's crowded. As we try to make our way through the crowds trying to read our map in the dark, and getting contact high from all the marijuana we smell, we finally find our hotel.

And you wouldn't believe it. No one is there. Can this really happen twice in one day? Without even giving it a second thought we head across the street to the first hotel we see, it's way out of budget, but at this point it doesn't really matter.

The hotel is beautiful, an ancient castle restored into a historic hotel. We are shown to our room, two twin beds, separated. Oh well, at least it is somewhere to sleep. I risk flesh eating disease and soak my limbs in a hot bath and make way to bed. Where I discover my pillow is as ancient as the building. It not only feels but weighs like a pillowcase full of bricks.

Oh well, at least is somewhere to sleep. And above all else, I am in Spain. Can't beat that.