Travelling Spain for 2.5 months we (my friend Pigi and I) visited so many places – wild camping, our friends’ house, Workaway exchanges and a squat, across Spain … almost no money spent on shelter, and lots of new friends, deep experiences, strong connections to towns, lands, waters, mountains.
The Catalonian Pyrenees
At first we hitchhiked through the Catalonian Pyrenees east to west for 2.5 days. We passed through some very remote regions full of tiny villages in many of which people determine among themselves how they wish to live in community. Food is grown abundantly in most of these places. We got a sense of sovereignty, autonomy, beauty. The people are radiant, open and we managed to communicate even though none of them spoke English and we speak neither Spanish, nor Catalan. A bit later in the journey we noticed that what and who we met in the Pyrenees reflected the delight we felt in these mountains. As we continued moving through Spain, hitchhiking revealed itself as a constant mirror.
Hitchhiking – The continuous mirror
The situations we attract seem to be an immediate reflection of our personal circumstances; when we were angry, we attracted rides with people who were also angry, most likely even about the same things that we were dealing with. When we were tired, the people who stopped were also tired. When we were happy and excited, so were the people who picked us up. One time we played with the sign we had written to let people know where we want to go. It said ‘Madrid’ and we were at a gas station just outside the small town of Cetina where we had spent the last 2 days. An incredible town by the way. Pigi was jumping around with the sign in her hand, we were laughing, waving at people who drove in and out. I took pictures as large military vehicles left the compound, passing behind Pigi.
Then a young girl walked towards us and told us that she and her friends are on their way to Madrid and we can join. It was the happiest and most playful hitchhiking experience we have had so far. We played songs to each other, talked, played games and wrote blind poetry. Everyone wrote one or two lines and then folded the paper in such a way that the next person couldn’t see what had already been written. We were 5 girls – 4 participating in the poetry and one driving. The little rental car was packed with all of us and our luggage. Except for me all young ladies were in their early 20s. Here are the two poems we wrote together:
Driving through the fog
I heard her calling,
She held me in her arms.
When heart meets heart
The fear goes away.
Beautiful memories –
Form in between mist and fog.
Is keeping me awake at night.
Surrender she said.
Enjoy the silence,
The wind will carry us.
Now I know
All we need will come.
Oranges and crystals converse
With new connections.
Co-written by Paola (Puerto Rico), Pigi (Greece), Stefania (Puerto Rico) and myself (Germany).
Wild camping – A new friend from Romania
When we arrived in Calatayud it was dark. We got off the train, coming from Zaragoza. Where to sleep? We needed to find a place where we can pitch our tents, tired as we were from a day of travel: several hitchhiking rides, blocked roads, then the trip to the large city of Zaragoza and the train ride. Both of us instinctively knew that we had to turn left to find some quiet land on the edge of town. We walked. I had a feeling that we were already moving towards the direction to which we needed to continue the next day. It felt good. Soon we found a dirt path through some fields with only very few houses on each side. On one of those fields we set up the tents, a routine by now, and as there were some lights from buildings on the opposite side we didn’t even need our flashlights. We crawled into our sleeping bags and went into dreamland.
The next morning we woke from the sound of something knocking against our tent poles, then a male voice. We responded, sleepy, wondering who was there. I stuck my head out of the tent. The man apologised and explained in English that this was his field which he needed to work on and we had to move. OK. We got up and started packing immediately. Then the man came back with a big green bottle full of something: “water, for you”. It was much appreciated as I was almost out of water. While Pigi can live off the liquids in fruits, I gobble down tons of water every day. So we thanked the man. He drank from the bottle in an obvious effort to show us that the water was fine and then returned to his hut.
A few minutes later he came back across the field with a big green bottle full of something: “strong wine from fruit, for you, for being warm”. He drank from the bottle and then passed it on to us. I tried and a big smile entered my face upon the sweet, very fruity taste. Pigi immediately pulled out a tiny glass bottle with a very aromatic herb in it and poured the alcohol over it to make a tincture. We thanked the man. He invited us for tea to his little hut, his casa. After taking down our tents and packing everything away we joined him there and learned that he is from Romania. He had been through a lot in his attempt to carve out a life and find a place for himself. When he saw us in our tents he thought we might also be desperate. We explained that this was not the case and shared our breakfast with him: dates, almonds and a homemade paste consisting of figs, dates and nuts which someone had given us the day before.
Our new friend told us how he is a bad man, showed us his nose which had been broken and told us about the many wounds he has had from fights. He said that normally he would be friendly just to then turn around, knock out the person in front of him and take what he found useful. Every once in a while he picked up his axe and I saw a concerned look in Pigi’s eyes. He didn’t fit into society. This morning he told us many things, things he needed to share. We stayed with him for probably 2 hours. He drank a lot. Every once in a while Pigi and I had a sip of the sweet, strong wine too, at 9am. It was part of sharing these moments.
He told us that the field wasn’t actually his’ but the farmer who owns it is not nice. He showed us how the farmer had tilled his field right up to our friend’s casa, not giving him any space. Our new friend had woken us up to protect us. He didn’t want the farmer to see us camping on the field as this may have caused trouble for us. He was obviously experiencing major inner conflicts which surfaced strongly that morning, during our conversation. He also showed us herbs that he had collected and dried, and which he used as medicine. This man is not a bad man, but trying to survive has been the main purpose of his life for much too long.
When we got up to leave we hugged, several times. Our friend had tears in his eyes. We hugged again and wished him luck from the greatest depth of our hearts. Pigi gave him one of her herbal medicines: “I have made this with my own hands. Put it on cuts, or wounds. It is good. It’s for you”. He looked at her and we could tell that this morning meant a lot to him. We needed to meet him, he needed to meet us – a connection that will be forever even if we never meet in person again.
Greed in the Earth grid – Jaraba
You know how memory is written into the land? It can be conflict, light, addiction, financial success etc. It can be natural, or synthetic. In Jaraba region it is greed – tied into the most beautiful sceneries.
We arrived by hitchhiking in the valley of the Mesa river, known for its thermal, medicinal water and stunning canyons. The soil is red from iron and full of clay. It is still obvious that the original way to build is by mixing the bright red Earth with small stones and straw. There are houses built into this landscape which are hardly visible because they are made from red clay and embedded in red hills. I saw that nowadays there is a lot of fake – cinder blocks, concrete and bricks covered with red clay to make it look like the old way of building. Many of the old actual clay buildings are falling apart. Nevertheless the scenery of red hills, walls and houses is breath-taking.
As soon as Pigi and I walked into the first store it became clear that the people are somehow strange – or so our impression. The lady behind the counter did not even lift her head, never mind reciprocating our greeting. It seemed as though she could not see us. There was no reaction. The same when we walked into another store. We looked at each other perplexed. What is this??? As it started raining and we were hungry we walked into the only open place that offered food – a bar. We ordered tortillas, yet got 2 fried eggs with loads of white bread. Then the bill: 25 Euro. Without speaking Spanish we communicated the best we could that this was a ripoff and the waiter clearly understood. He disappeared and we never saw him again.
We also heard that the 3 thermal baths in the region, one of which we wanted to visit, are all connected to hotels and only open to those who stay at the hotel. These wellness centers are built around a natural river which provides the warm, medicinal water free of charge. They are then made exclusive to only those who can and wish to stay at a very expensive accommodation. Why do we tolerate the commodification of nature?
We had planned to stay several days but agreed immediately that we will leave the area the next morning as we do not wish to support such practices. We walked along the road until we found a place that lends itself to hitchhiking which … revealed itself as a constant mirror once more. A car stopped. The lady in the passenger seat was on the phone and angry. She asked us to give her a few minutes to finish her conversation which we did.
The young woman spoke English, and once we were in the car she explained that she had just been to the thermal spa very near Jaraba – fed by the Mesa River. Still angry she told us how she and her partner had a terrible experience there. The sauna, thermal bath, massage – she liked none of it and has complained to the management, asking to get her money back. This was supposed to be an incredible experience for the two – a treat – but not so. All coincidence? You decide.
In Nuevalos, only a few kilometers away from Jaraba, and also surrounded by stunningly beautiful scenery, an old monastery is connected to a picturesque canyon and waterfall which is accessible to everyone willing and able to pay the 18 Euros per person entry fee. The canyon was formed by nature, free of charge. This is not OK. How many families can afford that? Nature is there for everyone to enjoy, engage with, be part of. This incredible intelligence, or structuring algorithm, or whatever you wish to call it, does not discern between those who have money and those who don’t. In fact, nature couldn’t care less. Who are we to interfere, to take possession, to exclude?
The natural and non-natural are constantly revealing themselves, wherever we go.
2 thoughts on “Hitchhiking, wild camping & the commodification of nature – By Carina Ramm”
What a gem of an update this is, and it was hid away in my spam folder as usual. (Well of course tech has no idea how to handle this.)
Mucho ánimo for your ongoing journey, Carina! Keep re-twining substance with essence wherever you go. Each footstep closer to the world we need, each little here & now busily patching our world together again.
Thank you 🙂