On the train to Disneyland Paris there was a lady crying on the train. Like hard crying. I did that a lot in New York where there isn’t really any place to go when you need to cry. Now I was that lady.
My friend Joanna told me there was a little town about an hour away where they make Cava: the Spanish version of Champagne that, like the real champagne only comes from that region. There were tours and tastings and it’s a lovely town. It sounded like just my kind of thing, so I chose that from a list of other very awesome looking day trips. I spent about an hour researching how to get there and what to do. The train websites weren’t working for me- either it was all in Spanish, or I could find the English version but it wouldn’t let me choose where I was going or coming from in order to find a timetable. One of my map apps said that for my 12:30 tour (I emailed the company and that was the ONLY one available) I would need to leave at 8am. That didn’t make sense. I found a travel blogger’s article about the town and they said it was easy to get to- the train was a little less than an hour and they left every half hour. The article said the times on the internet didn’t always match the actual train times, so leave a little early. I found a route on citymapper (app) that suggested I leave at 10:30 in order to arrive at noon (to allow plenty of time). I was prepared. I had the route to the town on my citymapper app, and the route on google maps app from Freixenet (where the tour was) which was right across the street from the train station to other cava tasting places in the town and a highly recommended lunch place (they were all grouped in the town about a 15 minute walk from the station.
I finished telling my mom (via FaceTime) how odd it was that I have such a harder time finding what I’m looking for in Spain, but this time I’ve prepared as much as I can possibly think too. I’ll leave at 10, giving myself 2 1/2 hours for an hour long journey.
I easily found the metro (a new station for me), and took it 4 stops to the train station (I’m on a roll!). This train station was a little bigger than the one I finally found on Monday- instead of 2 platforms, there were a whole bunch (over 10 that I could see). I went to the ticket machine, it didn’t offer my destination. I tried three times. I found a different colored ticket machine. It did have my destination! I bought a return ticket. Yay! I looked for time tables. None. There was a big screen with the 20 or so regional train lines (it looked like 50 since there were 2 destinations for each- one for each end). I needed the R4 to Sant Vicenc de Calders. There was an R4 to Manresa and an R2 to Sant Vicence de Calders, but not what I needed. Anywhere. I went to information and showed the lady my phone with my route: R4 to Sant Vicenc de Calders get off at Sant Sadurni d’Anoia, and my ticket (which I hoped said where I wanted to go). She told me via (platform) 9 or 10 leaving in 10 minutes. 9 or 10? Which was it? I went to the platform and the screen said Sant Vicenc de Calders on platform…. There were a whole list of trains and it updated about 2 minutes before arrival which side it would be on. Okay. I’m not totally convinced this is the right train, but the lady must have known what she was doing. Maybe this train is similar and goes in the same general direction. My train is on 10 and I get on. I look at my app and the little dot is going along the orange line that it’s supposed to. Hooray! I relax. The first stop is 15 minutes away. I look at my app again. The orange line went up around the mountain and we were going the other way around the mountain. A man with a guitar comes through the door and sings a song in Spanish. The blue dot was no longer on the orange line. I found the regional train map to see if the R2 and the R4 intersect. Not until they meet in Sant Vicenc de Calders. I get off at the next stop. See a sign that a train for Barcelona is leaving in 4 minutes. It’s also an R2 but not the R2 sud I was on. I get on the train hoping I won’t get fined. This is a local train. According the regional map I found on citymapper it’s going to take 5 stops to get back where I started. It’s now 11:30 and my phone battery (offline it’s my clock, navigation and camera) is dwindling down to 50%. A child is making loud observations that his parents think are very clever. The guy facing me is snoring. The guitar guy from the last train gets on and plays the same song. I feel like this has happened in a movie or a sitcom- someone is having a rough time figuring things out and is haunted by a guitar player playing the same song over and over. I can’t hold the tears back. Why am I crying?! I just want to go wine tasting! It seems silly to cry in Spain because I’m having a hard time finding a winery that makes bubbly which is my favorite. My life is not that bad! I’m frustrated that I did so much to avoid being lost and here I was on the wrong train! I’m wasting the day when there are so many things I want to see. I miss my friends. I don’t want to go home. I got the email last night that I officially did not get the job in Germany. I think I knew that since before I auditioned, but now there was no hope. What am I going to do with my life? I don’t want to go back to doing the same thing every day and going to the same places instead of having adventures but why do adventures involve so much following directions only to find myself not where I am trying to go?! The guitar guy goes down to the lower level (where I can still hear him clearly on the upper level) and plays the same song AGAIN.
I get back to Barcelona Sants. There is information about every train line but not the R4 in the direction I want to go in. I find another information person. Hablas ingles? No. Alright, I’ll be honest. I asked in Italian. I show her my ticket and the route I want and try to explain how I was told to get on the wrong train. She tells me where to exit and where to re-enter. Ish. I try to exit through the turnstile, and it won’t let me pass. Back to the lady. Where I come from? Gava? (which I only remembered because it’s so similar to Cava) Ok. She lets me out. I go back to the other information place. It’s the same lady. I’m sure my face is red and blotchy as it does when I cry or try not to cry. OH! You want to go to THAT Vicenc de Calders! It leaves from via 8. no! 7 in 15 minutes. It’s 12:06. She shouts Vicenc de Calders at me like that was the problem. My ticket doesn’t work to go through the turnstile again, but lady lets me through and assures me I will be able to get back. I go down to via 7. The train leaves at 12:21. I don’t think I’m going to make my tour. I few minutes later the screen says my train is leaving at 12:24 then 12:26 then 12:24. One of the signs lists the stops and it matches what Citymapper says. And it has my stop. I get on the train. The scenery is beautiful again. I imagine begging the winery to let me go on a different tour. Or just going into town and doing the tastings at the other places and going to the recommended restaurant. I look around to see if my future husband is on this train. Maybe that’s why this has all been so difficult. I don’t see him. When I told Rose I was going Cava tasting she asked for before and after pictures. Here’s my before:
I arrived at 1:15 and checked the timetable (I love those) and sure enough! A train goes back to Barcelona about every half hour. The place I’m going is right across the street and easy to find.
I go in and tell the receptionist that I missed my earlier tour at 12:30, is it possible to do another tour? She looks. There is an English tour at 2:30. That will be 12 Euros.
And like that, problem solved. I considered walking into the town but didn’t want to risk missing this tour (between going there, finding what I was looking for and coming back I didn’t think I’d have much time to be there) so I sat at the little cafe at the winery and ordered a glass of Cava.
Everything is fine. It all worked out. Suddenly I realize why I’m so upset. If this were a dream it would be a perfect metaphor for how I feel in my life– big picture. I know what I want to do. I do a lot of research to figure out the best way to get there. I follow the directions and do everything right, and yet I feel completely lost in a beautiful place not knowing where to go next. I decide I need to relax and trust more that everything is going to work out. I don’t NEED to settle down and get a job right away. And I don’t need to freak out because I don’t know what I’m going to do next (I mean, after I go to Scotland and Ireland). This is the journey. And today, I finally did reach my destination.
Cheers!
I was added to a tour group of mostly Aussies who were spending 3 weeks traveling around Spain and Portugal. I wanted the tour guide’s job and the guy’s job who was leading the group around Spain and Portugal. I was a little envious that they had someone who had figured everything out for them and guided them each step of the way. Then I realized that a few of them looked tired and uninterested. I was happy that everything on my itinerary is something I’m totally interested in.
I learn that they drank Freixenet on the Titanic as it went down.
We walk down the stairs into this cave.
Cava is made in metal barrels, but these wood barrels house the other kinds of wine they mix with the cava to make different flavors. 
Cava comes in a variety of sizes – the biggest one costs 1,400 Euros and is too heavy to lift, so ‘you would need to make or buy a machine to pour it’
The new winery is so big that we took a train around the grounds
View from the train
Metal tops that look like buckets of gold
Bottling wine
From the movie?
Mmmmm…. Cava…
The tour was great. I felt so informed that I deserved the two glasses of Cava included in the tour. At the end I asked our guide what were the most interesting questions she was asked and she said people asked very specific questions that she had to find the answer to. My favorite is that someone asked what kind of mold grows in the caves and she learned that it’s penicillin — so it’s healthy for her to breathe everyday! I wanted to tell my friend Claire since she is trying to grow penicillin, but she is a character in the book I’m reading.
After the tour I walked into town and followed all of my maps and pictures to find that all of the bonus places to check out (including the restaurant) were now closed. It was the siesta hour that I was hoping wouldn’t be observed to cater to tourists, but that was not the case. I took the train back to Barcelona and found a not-too-touristy bodega where I spent my evening. They had little toasts with caramelized onion and some kind of amazing melted cheese and another one with tomato and eggplant mashed together with Brie. And a vermut to cap off the evening. I liked this destination too.