Day 11: The Other Side of Olot, Rebellious Ribbons, & Climbing Mount Doom

On Sundays, everything is closed here. That was an unfortunate surprise because I needed… water. Again? Yes again. Thinking of water is something we spoiled Dutch never have to do and it appears that I drink lots of it. There must be a place open that has water right? Right?!

The cleaning lady didn’t have the day off, because she stormed in around 10:30 AM. I was still laying in bed, watching the Dutch news in my underwear. I jumped up to put some clothes on and stopped her at the door. The round woman in her 40s with black hair in a short tail.

“I’m sorry, I’m still waking up and my room is super clean, I don’t require your service.”

“Towels? Trash?” She asked in Spanish.

I shook my head. “I still have towels and I arrived yesterday so I don’t have any trash yet.”

She wasn’t taking no for an answer and wanted to enter anyway.

“No, thank you,” I said.

I couldn’t be any clearer. It’s only in Greece where Naí means yes, not in Spain! Thank god a younger cleaner arrived and managed to persuade the woman to leave me alone. I don’t know what would have happened otherwise. Probably a monstrous, excruciating, and unforgettable…

 

review.

Today I was going to explore Olot and climb a volcano. After a short shower and a cup of coffee, I was ready to leave the room. With my warm cardigan, I stormed off and wandered through the streets of Olot. The weather was grey, just like in the Netherlands. Still, it didn’t look anything like home. Great!

 

Once I got closer to the centre of Olot, the buildings started to get nicer. I saw courtyards to dream of, stones lions that guide the entrances of mighty structures and big houses that look like tiny Disney palaces.

     

Next to the Catalan flag that waved in every street, there was another symbol of independence. First I had to think of the fight against breast cancer, but these ribbons are yellow and support the fight against Spain. They were visible on many balconies throughout Catalonia.

In case the message wasn’t clear enough…

I walked to the centre and found a big church and a square where people came together to eat. I looked on the map and found the closest volcano. It was only 20 minutes of hiking, as easy as pie!

      

In order to get to the start of the trail, I had to go higher up in the village, towards the edge. I passed an arena that struck my attention. Is this where the bullfights were organized? 

   

I felt a bit scared when I walked into a street that was totally deserted and a strange man was watching me through the window. Maybe he was just as scared of me as I was of him. At least I knew what I was doing there. Kind of.

That I was comparing him to a spider, made me walk a bit faster. It’s is the only thing I am truly scared of. Always trust your instinct, you have it for a reason. It’s been passed on to you by generations of people before you, that would have died without it. At least, that’s what I like to think. Read a biology book if you want facts.

I became calm, because I smelled weed. Something that reminds me of home. Two black young guys were smoking weed on a bench. They didn’t feel caught by me, so it’s probably just as normal here as it is in Amsterdam. In Indonesia though, you would end up in prison. Why was I thinking of Indonesia? Right, the smell in the shops, funny how the mind works.

Due to the Volcano Museum, I recognized that the stones of the buildings and pavement in Olot were made of basalt, solidified lava. The gas bubbles showed that some of the eruptions were explosive. This city wasn’t only destroyed by the volcanoes, it was also made by the volcanoes. A beautiful example of how everything is connected. How much of that weed did I inhale?

    

Why would people live close to volcanoes? It’s not that they like to see them explode, that’s just crazy me. Let’s see if you can guess by looking at this picture.

Agriculture, very good. The volcanoes bring lots of minerals to the surface that lead to fertile soils. It’s easier to grow crops around Olot than it is in most other regions. Volcanic veggies, are you beginning to understand why I adore volcanoes? 

    

The 'cementiri' caught me by surprise. I hate cemeteries. I used to cycle past a cemetery to the university. You don't want to be reminded of death on a daily basis. I want to think about dying, well, when I'm dying! Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You also don't want to play Sims and see the grim reaper walking through the screen all the time, right? 

The Spanish cemeteries are strange. They don't bury the dead, but put them in drawers! How can you give back your nutrients to the soil if you are not in the soil? I want to be buried in a coffin made of fungi that will return your body to the forest. I love that idea. The coffin is still 2000 euro, but I hope for you they are cheaper once I'm dead. 

I think that being buried in a drawer or burning your body is a waste. But at least, you will never be buried alive. That's a relief.

I started with the trail that led me up the mountain. It wasn’t a long climb, but it was steep. Walking alone at my own pace made it a lot easier. I heard animals in the bushes and saw rock outcrops that were solidified lava flows. The horizontal layers on top show the lava that cooled off rapidly, stunning.

   

 “Not all those who wander are lost.” — Bilbo Baggins.

A saying that felt very appropriate now. I was just roaming through the mountains, with and without a purpose. What a simple and powerful feeling, excitement. It was something I missed for a long time. As if the adventurer in me was sleeping and I had to wake her up by dropping myself in a foreign land. With my black pumas on the muddy soil. The unknown smelled sweet and it tasted like more.

I reached the top of Volcà del Montsacopa. I sat down at a concrete bench and gazed across Olot. I was far from my retirement home, because I could see the hotel on the other side of Olot. The view was spectacular. It was as if I looked down at the miniature again, but now the volcanoes weren’t made of plastic. Sharp edges on top of the mountains gave their innocence away. Volcanoes pretending to be mountains.

   

I looked down and realised that Mount Doom was right underneath my feet, I made it. I turned around and walked to the mouth of the volcano. On its lips, I looked inside. I didn’t see fire or boiling lava inside the crater, but a peaceful grassland. The volcano was sleeping silently.

  

In my imagination, I threw the ring inside of the burning heart of the mountain. It burped, softly. The skies opened and beams of light hit the floor. Hallelujah! Mission accomplished.

   

Where was the eagle to bring me home? I looked disappointed at the skies. It was getting dark and I was cold and thirsty. I decided to walk back.

  

Right before I left the top of the volcano, I chose to take a stone with me. I have a box at home, filled with trophies of my adventures. Instead of killing people and keeping a piece of clothing or hair, I climb a mountain and take a stone, that’s why I call them trophies.

This volcanic stone made a beautiful addition to my collection of rocks, shells, coral, and branches. When I’m a granny, I will have a room filled with trophies and put them all on display. Every trophy will tell a story. I’m writing them down to be able to tell them at that age, because, unlike stones, memories won't last forever.

 

I was feeling philosophic that day. Sorry for that, maybe I didn’t drink enough water and my body was preparing for the end. Water! That’s right. I still have to find a store. During my walk back I found a tiny supermarket that was able to provide me with the essential liquid. Wine. I mean water. Maybe both.

Casas appeared in all different colours during my walk. What colour would your house be? Reddish-brown is already taken. Ha!

    

There was a couple of love birds walking in front of me. Each time they would stop to kiss and I would go around them in a big circle. Then I would stop to take a picture and look on the map, and they would pass me again. Kiss, map, kiss, picture, kiss. Give me a break will you? Get a room you two!

I noticed that I was getting angry about nothing. Thus, the reason for getting angry wasn’t on the surface, but something underneath the surface. Something that wasn’t burning in the heart of the mountain, but in my own heart. The letters of the word loneliness can make two words. It’s an ‘illness’ that is carried by ‘one’. Wow, I just made that up. Nice.

It seems like a disease that’s easy to cure, but it’s harder than you might think. Finding someone that you can fully trust and understand, is almost impossible. That’s where my anger came from. I wanted someone to kiss. They could kiss my ass!

Out of nowhere, a huge painting of a pregnant woman doomed up on the side of a building. A gigantic woman with a huge naked belly invaded my thoughts. Hold your horses! I said that I wanted to kiss, not to make babies. One step at a time please, you giant lady.

I entered a square where people were screaming. They were ice skating. The Frysian half of me wanted to jump on the ice, but the other half thought it was too much effort. Judging by the size and crowd it was meant for children. I'm not a big child when it comes to ice skating.   

It’s always nice to see something that reminds you of home. Even if it’s Zeeman.

    

My head shook when I noticed that the plants in the trees were fake. If you think that plastic plants are more beneficial than real plants, you deserve to be buried in a drawer.

 

At least I also found some real ones.

These houses were in the same street as...

 

this one.

Strange right? Olot is a place full of contrasts.

Back at my hotel, I decided to write some travel stories and a tiny beetle was very interested in reading them. Bugsy was sent by God to end my loneliness, I knew he was listening.

When I was tired of writing, I took the best break in the book. Something a granny and pregnant lady also love to do: taking a long bath.  Don’t worry mom and dad, this is not my way of telling you I’m pregnant. I will tell you that, face to face, when we see each other again.

Padum tss!

That would make a great story though! Can you imagine? Haha, what a total flop.

I loved to relax in the bath. Especially by going with my ears underwater. The water softens the noises that come from outside and strengths the noises that come from inside, my breathing. Focusing on the sound of my breathing and the falling and rising of the water is the perfect way to meditate. I didn’t think of anything. I was just there, right in that bathtub, and at the same time, I was nowhere. I wasn't in Spain, or in Olot, or away from home, I just was.