All That We Perceive

Safe to say that anyone who believes in Intelligent Design would have to agree that God spent a little more time on Cadaqués. Fleeing the mania of Barcelona, Ali and I maintained the same, alert sense of paranoia that may've kept us entirely out of Barcelona's dubious, criminal statistics. However, the closer we came to Cadaqués, the more marvel distracted us and by the time we hit the sleepy little harbor in Catalonia we were nothing shy of sheerly awed.

We abruptly left the major highways and found ourselves on perilous, winding roadways akin to the grand prix track we found between San Sebastián and Madrid. Only the views the whole way out were too unbelievable for my inner-road demon, and my childish-wonderment favored seeing what lay around us instead of conquering what lay before us. What was below us was the whole of Spain, for a hundred miles or more from the coast. These were, afterall, the Pyrenees.

Down the hill entering the city we were met by a hilly lowland nestled between the steeper, coastal mountains and the Mediterranean. In this area, no larger than a few square miles, lay the red-roofed, white buildings of Cadequés, a town of under 3,000 locals.

Salvador Dalí once made it his home and it's easy to see why. Once on the coast, his dashing statue greets you as though you've found something as hidden and mystical as his paintings. Boats bobbed in the clearest, seafoam green water we've ever seen. Classic Mediterranean residences, such as the famed Casa Blava, met the stone streets that dropped into the sea. Trees grew out of the fortified walls as though the harbor itself birthed the town. It was a surreal place of perfect pleasure and quintessential serenity.

After walking the walls above the harbor from one side of town to the other, Ali and I settled down in a cafe and immediately questioned whether we were still alive. The service was actually service. With a smile! We were floored, and it put us at ease enough to enjoy our beers and coffees, and spend an hour watching local children kick around the footy in the cobblestone courtyard. This was the Mediterranean the way we'd always imagined it. If only for a day.