Collioure, France

The charming village of Collioure was maybe my favorite place of our entire trip. It was so beautiful and serene; it's easy to see why so many artists were inspired there. Just south of Saint Cyprien (15 miles from the border of Spain), it was a quick drive through a couple of quaint towns to get there.

We went in the evening, and the sun was creating a golden glow on everything as it set behind the historic stone Château Royal. The energy was strong and clear; the gorgeous colors would inspire anyone to pick up a paintbrush and try to recreate it, for fear it was a one-time show generated by special conditions which would never again be repeated by nature.

(This was one of the few places where Niki let me take her photo on this trip.)

I had to be torn away from the landscape so we could find a place for dinner. France seems to have pretty strict serving hours, and even though it was only sunset, it was about 10:00 p.m. already. We chose a place right on the water called St. Elme. During our meal, we watched a local procession of people, led by a small band, carrying candles and French flags and parading around towards the chateau.

After dinner, we had ice-cream treats and walked along the sand. Niki and Guy were too tempted by the shore of small rocks, and they started to skip stones on the water. Joey tried too, but most of his attempts consisted of him throwing lots of stones at once to make lots of splashes. Niki and I got up to 3 skips each, while Guy, the expert, made it to 8 or so.

Someday I would really love to return to Colliure for a longer stay - several days - to explore the shops and local art and just soak up the great energy of this wonderful place.

Barcelona, Spain

I did not like Barcelona - not even a little bit. Even when we were still an hour or so outside the city, I felt a pressure on my chest, the air seemed thick and heavy, and I couldn't breathe easily. The outer beltway around Barcelona was filled with ugly industrial companies, and the traffic was congested, with the pollution hanging in the air like a huge filthy canopy.

While we were stuck in traffic, we saw an interesting cemetery built into the hill. Maybe someday my punishment in hell will be to be buried there, to permeate my soul with the nasty Barcelona air for all eternity.

Once inside, Guy took us to an historic place called El Templo de La Sagrada Familia, designed by architect Antoni Gaudi. I simply could not find an ounce of apprection for his style anywhere inside of myself. I thought the building was disgusting and not beautiful in any way.

We found an Italian restaurant in a hurry, as once again dinnertime was almost over. The shops were closing quickly all around, and we really had no time to look around at all before it was time to return to St. Cyprien.

Driving South on the Motorway

The drive to St. Cyprien from Paris was about 10 hours. The scenery was so beautiful... the farms on the hillside looked like giant quilt squares with different patterns and textures and shapes.

Huge round hay bales dotting the fields... enormous white cattle roaming around in big groups... acres and acres of bright yellow sunflower farms with their heads turned toward the sun...