Dreaming of Salvador Dali

I wrote a poem a long time ago. It was very simple, only two lines.

Where green meets blue,

I am lost without you.

I wrote it as a description of where a forest canopy meets the blue of a sky. A sight that always conjures a smile on my face. Following the Mediterranean North from Barcelona and the magic of a smile was well written on my face. The Catalan Coastal Mountain Range emerges from the blue of the Mediterranean. Covered in green trees that gradually slope toward the endless blue sky. A sight for sore eyes, happy eyes, one eye, and definitely my eyes brought new meaning to a poem written years ago. A place of imagination sprung forth into life. Living my daydreams.

I steered clear from the second part of a route that Pep gave me, for I did not want to cycle the 50 kilometers more to Girona. Instead, I stayed in Sant Feliu de Guixols at a campsite. Sadly, there was no grass and sleeping was uncomfortable. This night, I did not dream well, or sleep well.

The next morning brought a beautiful ride into the mountains. I ascended up a road where, I’d say, around 100 cyclists passed me going down. Consistent bicycle traffic means your destination must be top notch, which it was. The descent wasn’t anything to write home about, but you will be able to watch it down below!

I got to my warmshowers host 200 year old farmhouse in Viladamat around 4 p.m. Actually, I have no idea what time I got there. Steve and Matt were great hosts. Steve is from the UK, which makes conversation fluid, and Matt spoke the best English of any host in Spain. The food, the atmosphere, the cats, the upstairs that smelled of flowers on a zephyr, and that blanket made for a wonderful stay. Thanks so much for sharing your stories and I hope you both keep making more.

Today, I was shooting for France! Today, I got shot down by the sky.

Leaving Viladamat, I was heading to Figueres as to make a pit stop at the Salvador Dali Museum. Meandering through the streets and one Cervesa later I arrived at the Museum. Looking for a place to lock up my bike, I noticed 3 cyclists, rather we noticed each other. It turned out to be a father and 2 son duo from Colorado who are making their way to Basque Country via the greatest mode of transportation. I sat down with them as they had finished their food and moved on to desert. We exchanged stories and laughs until it was time to enter the museum.

I have always been a fan of Dali. The ability to see something with your inner eye and then recreate it as a visual work is, well, art. Dali takes that art to a different level. He wipes the fuzz off of dream scapes and paints these works that make you feel twisted and unreal. I call myself a dreamer and I know I’m not the only one. But Dali may have been the first one.

Sadly, the museum was pretty crowded and it disturbed me to watch these lines of tourists idly passing great artworks without even a glance. On the other hand, it was breathtaking to see into another mans dreams. Alas, I spent a lot of the time chatting with Max, one of the Coloradoesianites. An artist himself, it was a good time as we sort of mingled in conversation as the abruptness of the world continually rushed by. And then it was raining…

I quickly left, for I had another 20 kilometers to France and I had to buy food. I got a bag from the museum and put my sleeping bag in it. Then I removed the trash bag from the garbage I locked my bike up to, retrashed the trash in another trashcan and shoved the tent and sleeping pad into that. Luckily there was only one tissue and maybe two smokes in it prior, an otherwise clean bag o’garbage. I began searching for a supermarket and quickly realized its Sunday and none are open. It was still raining. Sigh. I was hungry and my stuff was wet so I did what sometimes you just have to do in life, got some food, internet, and then booked a hotel for the night. France will come tomorrow, maybe.

Thanks for listening with your eyes. Share, give a comment or commencement speech, and write in a dream journal tonight. If you’ve the heart, donate to the Arthritis Foundation to help find a cure for arthritis and so much more at the link below.


I will leave on this note. Leaving Steve and Matt’s this morning I saw a note on the desk. It read “Live your dreams, don’t dream your life.” 


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