Tarragona

After a cool, wet, and rather trying start to the spring, we took a long weekend vacation to Tarragona, Spain in mid-May. We were invited by one of David's dad's former colleague, Pedro, who was incredibly kind to offer to host us.

Before our arrival Pedro had proposed an itinerary for each day of our visit. His family teased him about the hour-by-hour agenda, but we really appreciated having a local decide on the most important things for us to see and do. No guide books, no Wiki Travel browsing, we just put our vacation in the capable hands of Pedro.

Upon landing in the Reus airport, we found Pedro waiting for us at the gate with a large grin and a handful of tourist maps. He took us to our lodging for the night - his sister Ana's place - and we went straight into the city for dinner. There we met Pedro's family - his wife Elena, daughter Laura, and son Franc, plus Ana's daughter. Everyone was incredibly friendly and welcoming, and we immediately launched into a rotating-plate meal of tapas.

Pedro and his family spent a few years as expatriates in Detroit - which is how he knows Roch - so we spent a long time talking about life in Michigan and challenges of life in a foreign country. Franc and Laura spoke excellent English, and Franc even remembered visiting the Basson home when he was young.

The next morning Pedro met us early and took us for a historical visit of Tarragona. The city was built by the Romans - if you look at a map of Spain you'll see the convenient placement of Tarragona for the conquer-happy Romans on their way to the rest of Europe - and much of the modern city was built on and around the ruins.

Pedro moved us into a lovely hotel room overlooking the sea and the ancient amphitheater next door, which we toured first. Then onto the remains of the Roman circus and the wall that used to surround the city. We saw the city cathedral, left unfinished when the black plague came through, then met Franc for a paella lunch in a quiet little restaurant. It is so nice to travel with locals who not only know where to get the best paella, but can order it for you!

After lunch Pedro had to run to class, so David and I continued our walk around the city. We returned to the cathedral and took an audio guided tour, then spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the city taking photos and appreciating the spring sun.

The next morning Pedro picked us up and brought us to one of his favorite trekking spots along the wild coast. We spent the morning hiking along the shoreline, along cliffs, scrambling over rocks, and onto beautiful secluded beaches. After being cooped up in various concrete boxes for the winter, we were deliriously happy to be walking in nature and breathing sea air.

We had lunch in one of Pedro's favorite little cafes, then continued on to the nearby town of Altafulla. Altafulla was a beautiful little town, with narrow streets and tidy, charming houses painted various shades of yellow and orange. And nary a soul in sight - neither tourists nor locals - as Pedro reminded us it was siesta time. So calm, so beautiful, it was like walking around a dream.

After Altafulla we continued to another small town, Torredembarra, which had more visitors but no less charm. Lots of quiet little nooks, pretty terrace gardens, and delicate fountains.

By then we were quite tired, but on the way back to Tarragona we made one last stop. Seven kilometers from the city we stopped at a roadside shoulder and continued along a path on foot. At the end we found the Medol quarry, the massive stone quarry where the Romans had extracted the materials to build Tarragona. Well, to be frank, it was the Christian slaves who extracted the stone and hauled it to town, but the Romans get the credit. In the middle of the quarry they had left a 16-meter tall obelisk to show just how deep they had excavated. Over the years vegetation had taken over, and the place was a mysterious, sunken forest. 

For our last full day Pedro generously offered us one of his cars to tour the outlying region. After a big hotel breakfast overlooking the sea we climbed into the car and made our way back to Altafulla. Pedro had read an article in the newspaper that a local human tower competition was going to take place that day, so we jumped on the opportunity to see the regional tradition in action.

We found the competition square easily enough, although initially we weren't sure to be in the right place. I had expected swarms of spectators, but there were only a few dozen onlookers lounging on the plaza seats, watching the nervous teams gather. David and I situated ourselves with a good view and sat watching the preparations.

After a lot of amiable chatting and waiting for the late arrivals, the competitors started taking out long swathes of black fabric. They carefully wrapped each others' waists tightly with the cloth, making support belts. After everyone had been wrapped, the three teams bunched together. One guy in the middle of each team held his fists in the air, and his surrounding friends braced their arms against his. And then, the next thing we knew, people were climbing on top of each other.

The first round seemed to be a contest to see who could build a four layer tower the quickest. Pedro had warned us that these were "amateur" teams, but we were already impressed. After the first round was finished the winning team rested, regrouped, and started a much higher tower. First the brace of arms, then a layer of sturdy men, another layer of lighter men, then agile women, then finally children scrambling to the top. What incredibly brave kids!

We watched another round of five-layer tower making, which ended prematurely when a little girl couldn't climb up the back of the one of the men. The whole tower swayed precariously, but they held fast and had to surrender. The tower came apart layer by layer and no one was hurt.

Although I fretted over the possibility of the tower collapsing and someone getting injured, I was just a teeny bit disappointed I didn't have a spectacular fall on video.

The tower competition looked to go on for another few rounds, but we decided to move on. We collected the car and headed for the the mountains. Pedro had recommend a little mountain village for us to visit, so we took a beautiful drive out to find Siurana.
The village was as beautiful as promised, and we spent some time walking along the small streets and sitting on big rocks over looking a river far below.

On the way back we stopped for lunch at a tiny roadside restaurant, where we were shocked to see the only English menu of the whole trip.

When we got back to the hotel I took a last walk around the city enjoying the sun while David read on our balcony. That night we met Pedro and Elena for a really nice Italian dinner with jugs of champagne sangria. Mmmm.

The next morning we bade a gloomy farewell to Pedro and Tarragona. Pedro drove us to the airport, with plenty of thank yous and promises for another visit, either in Spain or Paris or maybe the States someday.