Costa Brava + How I Cheated Death

January 15, 2018

Retelling this story is going to give me nightmares. I already know.


I have a friend that lives in a village about an hour outside of Barcelona by Montserrat. There’s not much to do in the village, so we had the brilliant idea of taking a road trip up the coast of Catalonia into France. This region is better known as Costa Brava. It’s absolutely beautiful… if your life isn’t in danger.


Ok, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s go back.


There was only one problem with our plan... we didn’t have a car. So my friend convinced his brother to take us. What I didn’t know was that his brother was an insane driver. I also didn’t know that this drive was mostly corkscrew roads up and down mountains. Never, ever, ever again. Never. No. Nope.


That trip was the first and only time I’ve ever been car sick. It was like Nascar meets Monster Trucks. I felt like an astronaut going through High-G training. I wanted to take in the beautiful scenic drive, but everything was a blur. 


On top of that, his brother spoke very little English. So when I thought I was going to hurl, and I asked him to pull over, he didn’t understand me at all. I tried to speak in Spanish, but I quickly learned that I’m incapable of speaking another language when I’m fearing for my life.


He pulled over just before my body was going to shut down. I got out of the car and kissed the ground. I contemplated walking the rest of the way because I had no idea how I was going to get back in that death trap.


I told him to cool his jets or I was going to destroy the inside of his car with the insides of me. He laughed. Great.


Somehow we made it safely to our first stop. We took a hike along the coast to different coves. One of the coves was a nude beach, but there were only men. I feel like nude beaches are 95-100% men. I grew concerned for their penises in the scorching sun and began to wonder what SPF I would use on my lady bits if they were exposed. Off topic.  Let's get back to Costa Brava.


The best beach spots in Spain require a little hike. Don't settle for the easy public beaches. Ask a local for recommendations, or just hike along the coast until you find the best area for you. I love having a private little cove to relax in. Public beaches, especially Barcelona, are so stressful because I'm constantly worrying about my belongings. Even if they're right next to me. 


The only problem was I didn't think we would be hiking, so I was scaling cliffs in flip flops. I somehow managed. Funny enough, I felt safer on a cliff in flip flops than I did in a car with the Bringer of Death.


 Our favorite spot. Yes, I climbed that in flip flops.


I really wish this was the end of the story, but it’s not.


Since we were trying to save money, we decided to sleep in the car. Which meant that we had to find a good spot to hide the car. Unfortunately, we made the mistake of not searching for a spot during the day. It was pitch black. And when I say it was pitch black, I mean it was pitch f*cking black. We could barely see in front of the car with the headlights on. I couldn’t tell where the road stopped and the cliffs began.


After searching for what seemed like hours, my friend’s brother decides to veer off the road and hope for the best. My god. None of us had any idea where we were, or if it was even safe. We drove for a bit and ran over a few questionable things, but we made it down the terrain. Yes, terrain. This was not a road. He literally just turned where there wasn't a tree and headed down the mountain. Not kidding.


Once we parked, my friend walked a few feet out from the car and took a piss. Scared sh*tless the entire time. Spewing every curse word he knows. As soon as he came back, we turned off all of the lights and he started to panic. You don’t think you’re scared of the dark until you can’t see 6 inches in front of your face. I tried to calm him down, but I wasn’t much of a help. I also thought we were going to die… again.


Then he started getting paranoid about animals. Every little noise made him jump. To ease his mind we rolled up the windows so they were only cracked an inch. But this was Spain... in the summer. I thought I was going to die for the third time that day.


When we woke up in the morning, we were drenched in sweat, but surprisingly alive. I got out of the car to cool off and pee by a bush, and not 10 feet in front of me was the edge of a cliff. I had a minor freak out. Had my friend walked a few more feet to piss the night before, he would have dropped down the side of a mountain. And if his brother had stopped the car 2 seconds later, we would have nose dived down this cliff. I realized that we had cheated death a fourth time that night.


We slowly backed the car up and got on our way. We made a pact to never do that again.


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