Even the best laid plans… but who can complain about things not going perfectly when you’re in a beautiful part of the worl living life by the moment experiencing new things with friends and family?!
We woke up without a clear plan, except to go visit ruins at Escaladei at either before or after climbing, originally this was supposed to be in the afternoon so we could also visit a winery in the town but we decided to cancel the wine tasting in lieu of more climbing time (sunset at 5:15!). On a map, the climbing at Montsant looked like it should be epic with routes fit for everyone in our group.
The drive to Escaladei took us through La Morera which was an incredible town high up on Montsant. The views on the curvy mountain road were unbelievable — again, olive trees and vineyards as far as the eye can see. Picturesque rectangular Spanish villas adding geometric contrast to the hills. Just. Beautiful. Views of other rock formations all around, mountain peaks, blue skies a faint smell of wood smoke from a nearby fire seeped through the valley.
After meandering through the Carthusian Monastery ruins for a bit we were anxious to get on the wall. We started up the road past Escaladei but it quickly turned to a steep dirt road… not feeling comfortable or familiar enough with the Seat Minivan, we made the decision to turn around and return to Siurana for climbing.
A different area of Siurana this time, a little wayfinding after the fortune of getting off the path only to find ourselves at the foot of a beautiful red cliff wall that could have easily been in the southwest of the US — reminiscent of Moab or parts of NM or Colorado. Back on track to find the climbing area we hiked (approached) up a steep and rocky path to an area called [WHAT WAS THIS AREA CALLED?]. Having not done the planning or research for this, I was really nervous. This was a lot for my Dad. He kept up, I slowed my pace and stopped every few minutes to let him catch his breath, drink water, sit down. This was not at all like the approach the day before where we hugged the cliff band down around the southwest side of the parking lot. This was rugged and treacherous, if something would have happened, a slip, a turned ankle, or worse, rescue and assistance was not close by and we were not easily accessible. My worries grew as the 15 minute hike took us up up up and I knew that even after we made it we’d have to go back down the steep scrambling rocks, even more dangerous, and the light would be fading around 5. Luckily, everything was okay. My dad, an agile and fit 72-years-young despite his COPD, was amazing, paced himself and did not take any chances in rushing or footwork.
We made it to the car as the sun was threatening to set, so we decided to drive up the road for one last glimpse of Siurana with the hopes of seeing in in the light one last time. It was so worth it. My photos are crap, but I’m grateful that Stephen Graham took some really beautiful panoramas that capture a bit more what it actually was like to be there. One thing about sunsets and sunrises: you can never re-create the experience. No photo or video will ever reproduce what it’s actually like to be there, feeling the light change, smelling the air, sensing the temperature drop or rise. But these photos will at least provide a trigger in our memories of just how stunning this chilly half hour of seeing Montsant grow dim under the warm sunset, the slightly piney smell of the breeze mixed with woodsmoke.
Again, we were hungry and trying to figure out what to do for dinner, we wandered in hopes of finding one of the restaurants open and to our luck Refugi Siurana — a restaurant literally built into the rock of Siurana — was open! Some of the best tapas and sangria we’d had — tiny green olives, croquetas (squid ink black, blue cheese, goat cheese, veggie, jamon) and pizza, patatas bravas, tomato bread… and the sangria was delicious as well. I actually think this was some of the best food, especially tapas, that we had in Spain.
Sending Love & Rocks 