No roses without thorns

In October 2024, I took the train to Gerona with the idea of spending four weeks travelling around Spain. I had booked the whole shebang and was really looking forward to getting away again. 

Didn’t go as I planned…

Paris

That Tuesday morning, I was on the train on my way to my first stop, Paris: a really lovely city, in my opinion. I had a transfer from Gare du Nord to Gare de Lyon, which gave me enough time to grab some lunch. I found a really nice, quaint little restaurant on Ile de la Cité called “Au Vieux Paris d'Arcole”. I highly recommend it for a cosy lunch or dinner spot with excellent French food.

The last part of my train journey to Girona was blessed with beautiful views from the train. I felt safe on the ground on the rails - I had consciously chosen not to fly this time. Honestly? I just didn't dare to fly. For some reason, I have developed a mild fear of flying over the past two years. The bumping and shaking make me extremely nervous. I never had this problem before, but now I suddenly find myself sitting in my aeroplane seat with clammy hands and a slightly elevated heart rate, feeling quite uneasy. Anyway, I opted for the train this time. Even though it takes a little longer, it's more than worth it. It's a charming way to travel, with little stress and a pleasant sense of timelessness.

Girona

The morning after I arrived, I texted my best friend: ‘I feel like a woman again!’ And that's how I felt. A new adventure. And what's more, back in one of my favourite countries. 

I visit Spain regularly, so I immediately felt at home again. I went to the local market to buy vegetables, fish and fruit. It was wonderful. I love listening to the Spanish chatter of locals haggling over the price of a piece of salmon and the old ladies staring openly and unabashedly at my blonde hair. 

I gave myself a day to acclimatise before I started doing anything. What I usually do then is walk. A lot. Walking. I feel like that's how I end up on the most interesting detours and see or experience things that I wouldn't have come across if I had planned everything and stayed on the beaten track. 

After a day of wandering around the city, it was high time to go to bed at 8 p.m. That is, of course, at odds with the Spanish rhythm, but my travels are a lot more enjoyable if I stick to my own habits and rituals as much as possible.

The next day, I first had some online work to do, but in the afternoon I set off again. I had lunch in a well-known popular cycling café. A kind of pit stop for cyclists. Because there are still a lot of them. The rolling and mountainous surroundings of Girona attract many cycling enthusiasts! 

I didn't know it beforehand, but Girona and its surroundings are excellent for cycling. Although I wouldn't cycle through the mountains all day myself, it was a nice sight. After enjoying the cosy atmosphere of Cafe La Fabrica, I hopped from one café to another. 

In the last restaurant/bar, I sat next to a Spanish man. At first, I opened my laptop again with the intention of finishing my last tasks with laser focus, but the man started a conversation about the noise of the football fans outside in the streets. There was a big football match on, and the whole city was completely hyped up and had turned out en masse. 

This led to a conversation, and I ended up talking to this man about what we were doing here in Girona, etc. I told him that I was from the Netherlands, but that I would quite like to live in Spain for a while. I visit regularly anyway and feel very much at home here. As it happened, the man had lived in Rotterdam for five years, so we had a good chat about the differences between the Netherlands and Spain. The man said, ‘When I walked through the centre of Rotterdam, everyone was in a hurry. No time to talk to strangers, let alone take the initiative to do so myself.’ 

In all honesty, that was exactly the Dutch trait I had just displayed myself: whatever was happening, I hadn't thought to have a chat with my neighbour, but had immediately isolated myself and focused on work on my laptop. But was that really so important? 

Wouldn't it be much more bearable and enjoyable if you remained open to unexpected, pleasant moments throughout your day? Do you make enough room for mystery and the unknown in your daily life? 

‘Here in Spain, I feel much more connected to the people around me,’ he continued. ‘There's not such a stigma attached to talking to each other, and the tunnel vision of having to perform or chase after something or achieve something extreme isn't as prevalent here as it often is in the Netherlands.’ I couldn't disagree with him. 

It was a warm and peaceful honest conversation, a highlight of my day, I realised. I opened up. 

The next day, I put on my walking shoes and headed out the door for a 6-hour mountain hike to a castle. As I texted my parents, ‘this was truly enriching for my soul!’ I set off without music. Which was quite something, as I am used to putting on music during many daily activities to drown out the noise or simply to escape reality for a while. Not this time. I just went for a walk in nature, with myself, in the present moment. It's in my top 5 most beautiful walks ever, not so much because of the views, but because I was able to be so present with myself and in the moment throughout the entire walk. Not thinking about what I still had to do or where I was going next. I was just there. I was aware of how I was using my body on sections where I had to climb a bit, and it felt very natural. That's why I enjoy walking and wandering so much. You give yourself the gift of just walking, without a specific destination or “having to go somewhere”.

It was a lovely last day. The next morning, I was packed and ready to go to my next destination. I was going to spend two weeks off the grid, offline, staying in a community in the mountains of Catalonia.

Man, I was looking forward to this...

Arbúcies

In the weeks leading up to this, I had been longing to return to our roots. Back to our nature, because I had become somewhat engrossed in watching too many episodes of Sex and the City and creating beautiful Pinterest boards of my dream life. Although there is nothing wrong with this, I felt it was time to take a step back and return to the core. When this opportunity arose, I seized it with both hands. After a three-hour bus ride through the beautiful mountains, I arrived at TierraLuz. I was welcomed with warmth, so I immediately felt at home. I have always had an underlying desire for their way of life. Simply together with nature, from nature, in nature. The illusion of time, money and ego is simply less tangible. It doesn't matter who you are, what you do, what you're going through; you are welcomed with open arms. I slept in a hostel-like space, with a small stove to keep me warm at night. It got quite cold at night. 

I took a moment to settle in for the first few hours. When I arrived, I was invited to a “Contact” workshop, which I readily accepted. The Spanish gypsy dance “contact” does not appear to be an official style, but rather focuses on the emotional or physical connection in dance, as in flamenco. It revolves around expression, interaction and conveying emotions through movement and rhythm. Yes, I was nervous when I walked into the room. It was a lovely space. Open, made of wood, with paintings, the floor covered with beautiful rugs and a high ceiling. A lovely lady who also lived in the community gave instructions and then gave us space to share how we felt. I managed to admit how nervous I was. I felt very seen and heard, in a positive way. I was able to start this with a slightly more peaceful heart. 

After two hours of letting go of tension and surrendering to the moment, I felt incredibly grateful for the experience. It was so beautiful to dance through the discomfort and to fully embrace yourself and the other person for who they were. I couldn't have had a better start to my time in this beautiful community. 

 After dinner from my own garden and pleasant conversations, I went to bed feeling satisfied. 

From then on, things started to go downhill. In the hours after my arrival, I noticed that I was feeling a bit snotty and itchy. I sometimes felt like that in the Netherlands too, so I thought it would probably go away. Not so. I went to bed with a head full of snot and spent the night sneezing.

 Right. New day, I was looking forward to what the day would bring (and to the delicious homemade breakfast from the garden). I started the day strong with a kundalini session led by one of the community members. It was still early, so I grabbed a blanket and took a seat in the room. I couldn't wait to relax and unwind after what had been a rather restless night. Sigh. No such luck. I couldn't stop sneezing and my nose was running like a tap. I decided to leave the class and go for a walk instead...

‘Pff. Here we go again. It must be another tree or grass species that I can't tolerate.’

‘Oh dear, don't be such a whiner.’

‘Ugh, I was so looking forward to experiencing this lifestyle!!!’

The walk in the woods was anything but relaxing and peaceful. I was incredibly negative, aimlessly brooding and worrying. This isn't helping me, I thought. I couldn't make a clear decision about “what now?”. So what do you do in that situation? I sat down on a rock by a tree, closed my eyes and started meditating. It was the most RELAXING meditation I'd had in ages. That made it all the more important that I sat there for a while. Despite my allergy, for the first time that day I could hear the soft rustling of the leaves on the trees, the birds singing, the stream flowing and feel a light breeze on my skin. I decided that I didn't have to “do” anything at that moment. I just allowed the situation to be. 

Despite this pleasant moment with myself, I fell into a rut. I couldn't see clearly anymore because of my allergies. Breathing properly at night was a challenge, and I just felt sick, weak and allergic. What now? I had to make a sensible decision, so I chose to leave here early and go to Barcelona. 

It was very mixed. On the one hand, I felt at home and welcome in a way. On the other hand, I had more trouble than I wanted to admit with not being able to follow all the conversations in Spanish. This led to me feeling a bit more isolated. That's okay with me, and luckily I was able to talk about it. 

There was one lady staying here as a volunteer with whom I had some very pleasant conversations in English. She noticed that I was struggling with myself and with the situation. We discussed what the possible underlying cause could be for this enormous resistance and inflammation in my body. What was my body trying to tell me? I was so grateful to her for sitting down with me at lunch to talk and listen to my story. Without expecting anything in return. It was a real heart-to-heart conversation, and even though I felt awful, it was a huge relief. Earlier that year, I had gone through some things that had been quite difficult for me. But like many of us, I swallowed it and “just got on with life”. We discussed how my body was trying to tell me not to deny my emotions, but to welcome them. Man, did I feel uncomfortable, and did I feel like I was “too much”. I only stayed for six days, but I really found myself in the mountains of Catalonia. With a grateful, somewhat guilty feeling, I left for civilisation again.

Barcelona

Suddenly, I encountered the other side of myself again. My allergy symptoms eased slightly, and I was overjoyed to be living in a city again. I can sometimes convince myself that I am not a city person and prefer to stay away from cities. And yet, I was practically skipping through the streets of Barcelona with my suitcase, on my way to my hostel. Mind you, I had booked this hostel on a whim. I don't really like staying in hostels. I checked in, settled in, showered and was ready to take part in the pasta & beer night that evening. After days of eating very little, I managed to eat 2.5 plates. I felt truly reborn. As if I was back to normal life, knowing that the place I came from felt more natural than anything else. And as is the case in a hostel, you get invited to all kinds of activities, but the main event was a pub crawl. One thing about me: I definitely do NOT like going out, especially to clubs. No judgement here, it's just not my thing. Still, after the third game of Uno, I was persuaded to go along. Fine then...

I quickly got changed and then stood outside with the group, ready to go. 

‘Jesus, what a cliché, Nina... Are you really going on a pub crawl? You're usually asleep by now.’ 

It was 11 p.m. 

With my nose still blocked, I decided to go anyway. I deliberately pushed my boundaries. Because, well, I'm young and I should have some fun, right? After two hours, I was back in the taxi to the hostel. I had certainly gained some experience, but once again I concluded that I'm not really into the drinking and nightlife culture.

Fine, just go to bed...

You wish! 

No air conditioning, lots of noise and a man twice my age in the bunk bed next to me, making noises that would startle even aliens. That was it, I'd had enough. I embraced this sleepless night and went on Airbnb to look for a new place to sleep. Booked.  

The next morning, I had a half-baked breakfast at a local café and then took my suitcases to my new place to sleep.

Sigh.

She hadn't noticed that the flat was in the back corner. So I was given the usual instructions on what to do if there was incessant knocking on the door or if there was a break-in. I was advised not to go out on the street alone as evening approached. I did it anyway, just to get some dinner...

In hindsight, it wasn't such a problem. I walked past a primary school that was finishing what looked like a gym class and was able to enjoy a moment of “normal” everyday life here in the city. 

I had no window in my room, my bed was hard and there was a hideous painting on the wall. Still, I was glad to be out of the hostel and went back to bed at eight o'clock.

The next morning, I put on my backpack and decided to walk through the entire city. I walked from El Ravel to the Sagrada Familia, then to Parc Güell, and from there to the top of Parc del Guinardo. Truly beautiful:

From Parc del Guinardó, I walked to the beach, Platges de Barcelona. After four hours and 15 kilometres, it was time to give my feet a rest. I grab a bite to eat at Vai Moana and plop down on a beach chair. Don't call me.

That afternoon, I spent a lovely time on the beach in the Spanish October sun, and I made peace with the fact that instead of flying home in three weeks, I would be flying home tomorrow. 

The end of my shortest, but most insightful journey to date. I look back on it with compassion and gratitude. 

Life does not always go as you had hoped. Unforeseen situations will come your way, and often there is little you can do to change them. What is within your control is how you respond to them. You can choose to dwell on regret, frustration or anger, but that will get you nowhere. It is much more valuable to look at how you deal with it and what you can learn from it. 

Ask yourself the question: 

How is this the best thing that could have happened?

-Nina