The fastest way from winter to summer? If you live in Berlin, definitely a quick trip to Barcelona. All of a sudden you see the sun again, people are dressed in bright colors, and they’re even in a good mood.
And having a BMW convertible to get there certainly doesn’t hurt either.
The people of Berlin are notoriously cranky. They like to complain about everything. Their city is too loud and too dirty, the politicians are all good-for-nothings, the weather is always bad. I thought this constant grumbling was a local custom. Berliners don’t want to be disappointed, so they complain about everything and everyone as a preventive measure. But not everything is bad in Berlin. Though of course they’re right about the weather. There really is something wrong with the weather in Berlin. Not only are the wet winters and unbearably dry summers impossible to endure, even the high points of the changing seasons, spring and fall, which nature intended for falling in love and writing poetry, are extremely difficult to bear in Berlin. Elsewhere, the sun shines in March and nature awakens from its winter slumber. Not so in Berlin.
This March was full of dark and rainy evenings and a constantly overcast, cold sky. It was more like autumn than the beginning of spring. My neighbors prophesied that the so-called Ice Saints would be coming around in April this year, not in May as usual, bringing some serious below-freezing temperatures with them. How I would love to be in Barcelona right now, I thought out loud, in that city of eternal spring. As a child, I learned that if you wish for something really hard and out loud, it will come true. All of a sudden, the world’s best automobile magazine, ramp, and the BMW Drivers Club called up to invite me on a road trip to Barcelona. The idea was to fly to Spain and to drive a fancy blue convertible through the hilly landscapes, past beaches and along the seaside promenades, somewhere between Sitges and Vilanova i la Geltrú, and find out what makes road movies like that so compelling.
In any case, you need a road, and a really good car like the BMW 420d convertible isn’t a bad idea either. The horizon is in sight anyway, so just step on the gas and don’t look back. The direction and destination were left up to us, the main thing was to keep moving. “I drive, therefore I am” was the motto of our little excursion. The meaning and purpose of this journey of discovery were secondary. Something worthwhile would surely present itself along the way, at least that was our plan.
You can plan your destination, but you can’t plan happiness. And besides, a trip always gets really exciting when things are no longer going according to plan. Suddenly everything is wonderfully mixed up and the destination is out of sight. Or you’ve lost your way. Or both. We were open to any and all surprises and gave ourselves plenty of time to take photos, drink cocktails, look out at the sea and relax. Our mission was simply to be happy on the road.
Sitges is a town of around 25,000 people, located directly on the sea, with plenty of cool bars and a fantastic promenade lined by palm trees and cacti and bordered by a sandy beach. The locals were all in a good mood, they seemed to still be celebrating their Carnival, wearing funny costumes and treating themselves to an Aperol Spritz in the early morning. Though you can never be sure whether the Catalans dress up for Carnival or simply have a unique fashion sense. They like to wear bright colors.
Even in our brief conversations, I couldn’t really figure out what exactly they were celebrating. I think they were simply celebrating life, the good weather, the wide, blue sky – and themselves. How little a person needs to be happy, I thought. Though this assertion should of course be understood ironically. Sitges has the most expensive real estate in Spain. A beachfront home, with a view of the Mediterranean, starts at €15 million – happiness has its price here. Only the seagulls here can live in luxury for free. The locals feed them fried food – whether that is good for the seagulls’ health is an open question. We didn’t stay long in Sitges, despite its seductive beauty, and drove along the coast to the mountains and, in the evening, to Barcelona, where every second house looks like a medieval castle. Or a cathedral. Half of Spain consists of castles.
Of course, every European country has its share of castles that tell of the splendor of bygone times and of the merits of slavery, serfdom and servitude. Without the benefits of unpaid labor, these castles would have rotted away long ago (they are very expensive to maintain). Instead, many have become World Heritage sites. Now, every country has different plans for its World Heritage sites. The Germans and the French like to turn their medieval castles into museums, complete with exhibition spaces where curious visitors can see the shirts, jackets and spoons of the most recent monarch or nobleman, most of who apparently lived quite frugally and didn’t own many objects of interest. The Italians, on the other hand, like to settle their bureaucrats within old castle walls, using these as government buildings to fuse the past with the present. The Spanish and the Catalans have taken a more pragmatic approach: they convert these impressive medieval manors into hotels and restaurants where tourists can enjoy good tapas at reasonable prices. And the Spanish eat all day long, they’re a very hungry people.
In Germany, as is well known, meals are served at relatively fixed times. Especially in small towns, you can’t get lunch after 2:30 p.m. and the kitchen closes at 9 p.m. But when Germans come to Spain, they lose all discipline and do it the Spanish way. They eat around the clock, even going out for dinner late at night. Spanish restaurants are always open, or so I’ve been told. We treated ourselves to a tapas route in Barcelona, and the city was so appetizing that you don’t even need to look at the Google recommendations. You can go to any restaurant in Barcelona and you won’t be disappointed. The Spanish are a very loud people, however; they yell at each other so fiercely while eating, as if it were someone’s birthday at every table. Our road trip gave us spring fever, the air was still cold, but the warmth and lightness of the moment, the setting sun and the light put us in a springtime mood. At some point, unfortunately, we had to go back to Germany.
Those three days in Barcelona cured me of my grumbling ways in Berlin. I came home feeling refreshed and with a clear head, ready for summer.
Text by Wladimir Kaminer
Photos by Markus Henttonen
ramp #67: Friends with Benefits
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