Treasure Hunt

Tapas, sangrias and patatas bravas; Flamenco and Real Madrid; Barcelona’s nudist beaches and Ibiza’s expensive parties —this was the Spain I knew. And for once, I was elated with my ignorance. For, had I known more, magic wouldn’t have happened.

My envy inducing, all-girl trip was filled with enchanting moments — the morning when I peered out of my tiny apartment in Girona staring at River Onyar, or when I sat sharing a drink in Seville’s local bar with the Flamenco singer whose voice haunted me or when I saw the sun’s first rays blanketing the Moorish remains of Besalu.

L’Officiel India DigitalRead L’Officiel India in the digital libraryEvery issue and every cover story, on TCG Media.Read now

Spain is where the rich past blends seamlessly with the vibrant present.

The quirky street art of now and the art galleries of yore, holding their ground; Jewish baths and swanky spas; flamenco and live music performances — time travel at its best.

Of cobbled pathways and Guinness cakes

This was the Braavos of Game of Thrones Season 6 but it didn’t really fascinate us. We fell in love with the quaint city nevertheless. “I can come back to Girona to eat this cake,” said my friend, her eyes glistening with tears. She was serious, I knew as I saw her devouring a Guinness cake at Girona’s Federal Bakery. Girona gave us that cake and much more as memories. The serene Onyar River, cradling between brightly painted houses was a sight to behold.

But, Girona’s charm lay in its perfectly preserved Jewish Quarters, perhaps some of the best in the country. The labyrinth of the narrow, cobblestone streets, almost devoid of people, seemed to speak the glorious past of the Jews who lived here between 982 and 1492. We found ourselves spending a couple of hours at the Museum of Jewish History.

Where we ate

As dusk fell, our aching feet found solace in Vino Blanco (white wine) that flowed alongside some of the choicest cheese at Mon Oncle restaurant where an Indian chef confirmed if we could be served beef.

Getting there

There’s a direct train from Madrid

In search of erotic sculptures at Banyoles

I was a predictable, law-abiding traveller until recently when I found myself walking bang in the middle of a busy highway, in the hunt of an erotic park! After all, what’s an all-girl trip without some crazy anecdotes?

Our hunt for Spain’s Khajuraho wasn’t too successful despite walking 20,000 steps as the rain god interrupted our merry saunter. But, who was complaining? Not us for sure, because the walk took us through some of the most stunning landscapes in Spain.

Paintings came alive when the dark clouds descended over the verdant expanse with the Gothic-inspired Spanish country houses in the backdrop. The most rewarding find of the day was the Banyoles Lake, the Catalonian region’s largest with deep azure waters under a cloudy sky. What a romantic set-up it made.

Getting there

Regular buses ply from Girona

Pizza and rustic romance at Besalú

It was 7 a.m. and two degrees Celsius. I was walking around an almost empty village with the soft rays of the sun turning the ancient buildings into a deep crimson. I could picture a mansion, kings and queens and knights in shining armours — it was like flipping through the pages of a story book.

Besalu was what old-world charm means. This village with a population of only 2,500 was not just waiting to be discovered but to be savoured, at a slow pace. I could have spent hours standing on the 11th century fortified bridge with views of the Fluvia River, forgetting social media for once. But, I could not resist taking a photo at almost every cobblestone street, and was drawn into bakeries smelling freshly baked croissants and apple pies.

There was a story at every corner — in the eyes of the big, pot-bellied cheese seller or the Jewish bathhouse (Mikvah). This is a village that needs to be re-visited and not get overshadowed by its glitzy neighbours.

Where we ate

Pizzeria La Roda Groga was where over countless glasses of wine and freshly baked thin crust pizzas we discussed our travel goals, including the place we want to die in. That was our last night in Besalu, discussions had to be profound.

Getting there

Regular buses ply from Girona

Flamenco nights at Seville

What happens when three hung-over women step out of the airport to find a handsome chauffeur waiting for them? Sorry, there was no time to feel embarrassed because we had just landed in Seville — one among Lonely Planet’s 10 cities to visit in 2018.

And we were being driven across the city by our Airbnb host, telling us all about the ‘non-touristy’ attractions of this touristy city, the birthplace of Cruzcampo beer. But how can you not be touristy when in Seville! So, we started exploring the city with its best —Flamenco, albeit with a twist. Instead of sitting for a formal (and paid) flamenco performance, we headed to La Carboneria, the bar where dancers blend gracefully with the unkempt wooden benches, littered with keen Flamenco enthusiasts downing Cruzcampo and tapas.

But, it is just a matter of time before the spirits and eats are forgotten and the tiny dance floor lights up with the several flashes of phones that can’t stop recording the Flamenco steps by the male dancers.

The language barrier is but forgotten as one gets lost in that powerful music. Not much was said as we walked back past midnight, oblivious of the beauty of the yellow-terraced houses.

The next day was spent walking across the rain-washed streets of the city, doing the obligatory photo-session at the Alcazar and the Seville Cathedral. But the star of the day was nightfall at Plaza De Espana.

The umpteen photos I’d seen of this architectural marvel didn’t prepare me for the stunning sight of this Moorish-style building divided by a 500-metre canal. All I wanted to do was sit at a corner, staring at nothing in particular.

Where we ate

Indulgences seemed justified at Seville. Bar Antojo’s Oxtail and poached eggs with truffle oil put us in a food coma and we realised much later that this would be the most expensive meal of our Spanish sojourn.

Photography: Kavyanjali Kaushik.

From the May 2018 issue of L’Officiel India.