4/26 (sabado)

I wake up after 6, it’s still dark.

I want to calm the inside of my heart.

I want to be calm in order to feel and not miss each blessing.

I sketched in the quiet.

I ran.

The smell of gunpower, and the noise of firecrackers and drums draw closer and it becomes harder to move around. It looks like a festival. There’s a dragon float, so it’s probably a festival celebrating Sant Jordi’s day.

180 push-ups. 110 sit-ups.

6 km run.

4/27 (domingo)

I wake up at 7:45.

This is my last Sunday here.

I think I’ll go to the ocean one more time.

I get off at Garraf station after a 40 minute train ride. There is no station building nor gate.

There’s the ocean, and the Bodegas Guell del Garraf, a winery (now a restaurant) that Gaudi built with his right hand man Berenguer.

The beach is even smaller than Tarragona’s, and there are not many people. A kid runs into the shade of a tree to drop his pants and take a whizz. It seems like the scenery here is the same as it always has been.

I am convinced that the lines on the ceiling of the Casa Mil・are the tracks left by the waves on the sand here.

And the detailed decorative shells around the door frames are the same shape as the shells here. Scattered around are flowers that have flown to sea and that have been lifted back by waves. I think I saw decorations similar to that too. There are no octopus tentacles lying around, but I eat them as I watch the ocean.

Isn’t there a hint of the pockmarked rocks that are pounded by waves in it’s exterior?

I’m going to take a look at the Bodegas G・ll del Garraf too. I don’t have a map, and it was too much travel to look online, so I just guess a direction and start walking. As I look around, I spot a brick wall that could be it at a slightly elevated location. That’s probably it.

As I walk, my eye is drawn to the beautiful foliage.

I felt happy because all of it appeared to be expressing all the splendor of the life it had. I enjoyed looking at every part of it. Large and small.

I pass through several tunnels going from the ocean to the hills. As I do so, there appears a desolate field (although it has grafitti on the walls) that breaks up the road. For a split second I think that it might be dangerous, but my eyes are nailed by the sight of large aspargus-like plants, similar to the ones in the Barcelona parks, growing even larger and splendorously free. Along side that, the other foliage is singing the praises of the Spring of our world. Trees that you stare up at; small flower that you bend down towards; insects sucking honey; strangely shaped fruit. Indescribable splendor.

People do not live here as though they owned it. There’s not many people at all.

The Bodegas Guell del Garraf is still in an old building, and the groomed garden is beautiful.

I already had octopus and mussels at a bar by the beach, so I don’t have anything at the restaurant. I think I’ll try it the next time I come. I’m sure it’s delicious.

Garraf was quiet, but my heart was racing.

It was hard to leave.

90 push-ups. 100 sit-ups.