Flying High

        On the third day, I decided to make my way up to the mountain of Tibidabo framing the north of Barecellona. It’s the highest peak of Catalan coastal range Serra de Collserola and stands guard above the city. Oh, the view was stunning! Although, the main reason why I made it one of my priority places to see was, once and again, the novel.

I did my research on how to get there in the hostel creating a mental map of things in my head because I was determined not to use a map once in the streets. What can I say…? I have a real weakness for wandering around. All I had to do was to find Placa de John Kennedy from where I would take the little blue tram. A straight route would have taken me perhaps 40 minutes but the way I was walking my trajectory was more like flight of a fly - full of loops and turns seemingly for no reason.

You see, I simply walk down a street that seems the most interesting. So I wandered, looking and listening, people watching… Letting it all soak in- the sounds, smells and colours. That should have gotten me lost, but miraculously I found the square at last. I got there just as the blue tram or ‘Tramvia Blau’ was pulling into the stop.

The crowd of tourists also waiting to get on could not diminish my excitement. The sun was shining and my mind was floating in the land of no one, somewhere between reality and… well, my reality. Avenida de Tibidabo was supposed to be home to beautiful Aldaya mansion with its sinister memories and forever buried truths. As the tram set in motion taking us up the steep street lined with pompous dwellings, my mind drew an image of the fountain with a fallen angel hopelessly pointing to the sky somewhere behind one of the high walls separating the mansions from tiresome curiosity of this world.

It was fascinating… setting ideas into the streets and between the walls... almost hearing the sounds of footsteps belonging people who only ever existed on paper.  It was like letting a balloon reach and define its own edges – to the full extend but not enough for it to explode. Although, truth be told, more time I spent in Barcelona, the story… the characters started to retreat into background. They were there; they just let other stories - my little stories of forever lasting present- echo through the streets with them. More often than not I found myself spiralling into capricious territories of my own mind digging up dangerous ides, forgotten jewels…

When I got off the tram, leaving Avenida del Tibidabo and its mansions behind, the funicular carried me to the very top… laying the whole Barcelona down to my feet. Did you ever experience one of those moments of wholeness... as if you were limitless, connected to everything around you in the most profound, sophisticated way… well, that is how I felt that morning, standing on the top of that mountain. The sun hugged my pale skin as a long lost friend with whom it only ever talked on Facebook these days… symphony of sounds impishly danced around my ears successfully escaping any form of command and the wind innocently played around with my hair (though I knew already it will take me an hour to brush this little game of his out once I get back…) I didn’t care much though… It was perfect.   

There was some sort of event – charity event, I suspect- going on that day. My philosophical epiphany dissolved into a laugh on my part as a procession of children and adults drumming and marching in unison made their way around the square. Rhythm swallowed all the other sounds and bounced off the walls like a stray Ping-Pong ball.  As the song culminated, with the last beat hundreds of red heart-shaped balloons were released into the wild, covering the blue sky with little lipstick kisses.

And I smiled to myself… because life is good… beautiful… and not only sometimes.

That day I also went to Park Guel, though I do not have the slightest idea how on earth I managed to find it because I just floated around in high spirits, spinning around in my flowery dress, jumping like a little child from one cobble stone to another… unable to keep myself on the ground… It was a very happy day… full of random encounters with lovely strangers, little discoveries and no worries.

The world is open and there are many possibilities... and that is the most amazing thing about it.