This suitcase goes out to fulfill a dream

 

I) Mariano and me. First step of our journey: Brussels, Ghent, Brugge and Illeghom.

Taking my son to see the Brussels Museum of Musical Instruments was my aspiration since I visited the museum for the first time.

We arrived in Brussels and visited the historical centre and the National Museum during the first day. The works of Bosch were what I was most interested in seeing again.

The next one was dedicated to the Museum of Musical Instruments.  The building where the museum is located is in the Art Nouveau style. It was, during the 19th century, the headquarters of a company and today it has been completely restored. Being there with my son and living together the experience of touring the museum was very meaningful for me.

Each floor is dedicated to different aspects of music. Starting from the basement you can go through first electronic music experiences; music produced by mechanical means, such as automatons and statues that composed a sculptural group and so on.

Getting to know instruments from other continents, such as China, India or Japan and those used in Chinese and Nepalese monasteries was very shocking and opened our perception about  the functions and sounds that music had in the past in different and distant places.

Medivial and barroquian instruments were exhibited and it was posible to listen their sound. Instruments like oboe, flute or clarinet are descendants of ancient folk instruments which sounds  we were able  to listen to.

Music is a universe largely unknown to us. Brass or keeboard instruments, for instancie, a huge variety of them that we didn´t known. Before electronic devices, like radio or televisión people spent their time making music with a huge variety of instruments.

Our visit to the musem took us five hours and we left it with a wider perception of the infinite territory that music is.

That first step of our trip continued in Ghent, a magnificent old town, with canals,  an ancient castle and numerous churches. We took the train and visited Brugge one of the days and its  wonderful museum. The museum has rooms dedicated to different centuries and styles of painting.

 We sailed along the canals of Bruges, visited the convent of the Carmelites and saw some of them in a religious service. Then we toured the place where they live, a beautiful group of houses. We returned to Ghent at dawn.

I made the mistake of planning to go to the small town of Hilleghom in The Netherlands. There were no cabs,  uber or buses at the train station, and it was necessary to ask around to get to the Bed and Breakfast in which we had our reservation. Some very young boys, who were playing. gave us some accurate and useful information in English that helped us. In spite of that, once there we were  able to spend our stay so well. We went to a neighboring town on a beautiful night walk to have a dinner in a very nice restaurant, walking trough tulip plantations, and quiet streets in which we could see very nice houses. The next day we went to Haarlem, a wonderful nearby town with a great museum. It was like stepping into the 19th century as the building looked like it did at that time.

Finally we went by train to Amsterdam to take our flight to Barcelona where a Mariano´s friend met us.  They accompanied me to my hotel, then we had a beer together and after that we said goodbye. Mariano would contiue his trip and I mine.

Some time ago, the identification of one of our suitcases was: "This suitcase goes out to fulfill a dream". This proved to be true. Every trip is a dream that we go out to fulfill, with more or less fortune.

The first step of the trip was over and the adventure was just beginning.

 

II Second Step: Basque Country, Mount San Michelle

I. I. After eleven days of traveling with Mariano I was suddenly alone in my room at the Hotel Comte, in Barcelona. The next day I had to be exactly at 9 am at Hertz ride to pick up the motorcycle with which I would cover the 477 kilometers that separated me from Leitza, in the Basque Country.

“Every time I go to get the motor bike I feel like a tingling sensation", someone once said. That emotion goes through me every time and now, on the eve of a trip through two foreign countries and on routes different from the usual ones, the feeling was even more intense.

I arrived at Hertz ride and as soon as I entered David, the manager of the agency in Barcelona told me "Hi Eduardo, this is  your Honda NC, please wait for me a moment, I'll be with you soon" and went on to attend two Germans who were picking up two motorcycles.

In front of me was a brand new Honda NC 750, black, with two side cases and a large top case.

Then I deeply enjoyed the moment and my concern about how to get out of Barcelona to the road took a back seat.

Leaving Barcelona I understood that we usually got worried due to things that end up going well and that the real problems are what surprise us, since I was able to find the highway easily.

The more I advanced, the more relaxed and happier I felt and when I was sure that I was on the road to Zaragoza I turned off the cell phone I was using for my navigation. 

Zaragoza is 200 kilometers away from the Basque Country and by the time I arrived at that point I would be closer to my destination. But when that happened, and I was approaching Tudela something abruptly changed: the sky suddenly became darker and darker, I saw lightning flashing through that gray curtain, I heard a thunder and suddenly a heavy rain began to fall without mercy.

Anyone can ride a motorcycle in 24 degrees, I thought, assuming this was part of the adventure.

Under the limited protection of some trees, I stopped to put on my rain suit as the trucks sped past me, very close to me. It was terrifying.

The worst had finnaly happended: I was under the rain,  and now I had nothing to worry about except getting to my destination.

By the time I reached Irturzum the rain had stopped and I asked some Policía Foral officers for the way to Leitza and soon after that I reached the town and Lurdes and Josetxo's house.

My cousin Lurdes heard the sound of the motorcycle and leaned out of the balcony and that was the welcoming image I saw.

I had finally arrived in the Basque Country by motorcycle and I felt completely happy.

 

III Third Step: From Leitza to France and back to Barcelona

I. I. Now and yesterday

 The days I spent in Leitza with Lurdes, Josetxo and the rest of the family got me back in time and reminded not only of the first trip but also the following ones.

It was in the second trip I knew Maricarmen Baleztena, one of my father´s  cousins, and her husband Batiste, and the following time my whole family and me were guests in Maricarmen and Batiste´s house for almost a month. We were very happy that time and we enjoyed very much staying in their house in Leitza, and in their little house in Eratsun, a small village in front of the hill where the farmhouse where my grandfather was born is located.

We went in Winter time the following year and stayed in Eratsun.   Every morning a herd of sheep  passed in front of the house and later returned  from the hills. The sound of the sheep bells awakened us in the morning and greeted us in the evening.  Our children played with the children of the village and all of them waited for the gifts from the Three Wise  Kings on january the 6 th.

That time we celebrated New Year's Eve with Maricarmen, but later,  that same year we went though a terrible situation that meant that for ten years we could not return and when we did, everything had changed.

When we were able to return Batiste, who was a very funny and generous man, had already passed away and we only stayed a few days, as Leitza was just one more point of a longer trip. The same happened the next time, and that was the last time we saw Maricarmen.

After she passed away, in 2022, I understood that it was necessary for me to go back and walk the same paths we walked when our children were small, and recover some of that old fascination.

 Everything seemed the same and at the same time different now, and I felt everything that time is taking away, and at the same time everything that remains in spite of the years.

Now I was traveling alone like the first time and what I felt that first time and now was the same.

We took walks, Lurdes took me on my pilgrimage to the farmhouse where my grandfather was born and from which he left to never return. It was not easy to get there. The mountain hamlets are abandoned and the heather with thorns grows and no one takes care of the roads anymore.

The feeling of arriving at the Catalinea Borda farmhouse cannot be put into words. It is a return to the origin, to that remote place from which I come from and to which I feel I am linked.

As the first time, We went to a cider house, spent most of the day there, talking with people that worked in that place,  and all that bond was reborn.

Saint Jean de Luz, in the French part of the Basque Country, Zarauz, Getaria, Zumaia, on the beautiful Basque coast beyond San Sebastian, Elizondo, in the Baztan Valley, the Monastery of San Miguel de Aralar were the goals of several walks, also places near Leitza, such as Zubieta, Ituren and Santesteban.

I went as far as Soraluce, where the miniseries Patria was filmed, and I left copies of my book of essays on that novel in the library.

Being in Leitza, those who were closest to Maricarmen told me about her, and I was able to visit the tomb where she and her husband Batiste rest, and it was possible to properly close that long-remembered era.

I said goodbye to my family in the Basque Country to continue my journey.

 

III.II Toward France

A new step of the trip was about to begin.

The long line of trucks and the dense traffic on the highway to Irun made me miss the calm and beauty of the Basque Country mountain roads.

Suddenly, I was alone in France with the unreliable cell phone's browser as my only help. However, like when I left Barcelona  and took the highway for the first time, the more I rode the happier I felt.

While traveling by motorcycle in a foreign country was challenging, it was also something else that is impossible to define and was very exciting.

I arrived in La Rochelle, a beautiful coastal city, one hot afternoon and after resting I spent the evening touring the coast and the old part of the city. I was as happy as I was exhausted. 

The next day I left for Mount Saint Michelle.

Images of Mount San Michelle always convey a sense of antiquity, beauty and mystery. It seems to come out of some ancient narrative that will reveal something to us.

We visited Mount Saint Michelle in 2011, arriving from Paris on a guided tour, and now, after arriving at La Rose de Ducey, the Bed and Breakfast where I was staying, I was riding around the surrounding area and could see  Mount San Michelle in the distance.

I arrived early the next morning and, after leaving the motor bike in the parking lot, and going tot the information center, I took the shuttle to Mount Saint Michelle.

Getting there was an amazing experience. There was a man at the entrance who gave me a piece of advice. He recommended that I visit the abbey and the monastery  in the upper part first and, just after doing that, visit the lower zone.

On the terrace in front of the entrance of the abbey there is a beautiful view overlooking the islet and allowing to see the mainland in the distance.

The altar, the refectory, the cloister, the various chapels form an endless labyrinth of rooms, with corridors, stairways and other places.

From the base of the rocky place towards the abbey, what were once medieval dwellings are now stores, hotels, restaurants and some homes.

The contrast between this place and the abbey and the monastery is very huge and as the morning progressed the place was filling up with people: schoolchildren, groups and visitors. Then, I went out for a walk along the beach and I remainded there for a long time, I went back to the lower part later and finnaly I took the bus to go back to the Information Center, pick my things up and leave.

 It was still early and I decided to go to Saint Malo, about 40 kilometers away. The navigator took me through places that led nowhere, and when I finally found the right road I headed there. I was a little short of arriving when heavy rain came down; without the protection of the right equipment I ended up soaked and, as I could, I returned to La Rose de Ducey.

The weather forecast indicated an 80% chance of rain for the next day, but by leaving early I was able to anticipate the rain, leave Ducey and make it safely to the next stop, in Gradignan.

Once there, I walked to the coast and on the beach there was a Jazz band and two dancers playing on the promenade near the beach.

The trip was almost finishing and the following day, early in the morning I headed to  Barcelona, my final destination. Not long after leaving Gradignan, I found myself in Spain.

Something happened on the way: I stopped to refuel and when I resumed the march all indication of the route to follow had disappeared from the screen of my cell phone, and it was impossible to get it to connect again.

I decided to keep riding paying attention to the signals of the highway, which were full of indications to different cities and villages. Almost arriving in Barcelona I stopped to refuel again. I was hopeful that the browser would be able to reconnect there, but it was still the same as before.

While I was thinking about what I could do in this situation, I decided to ask for help from a young woman who worked at the gas station. Apologizing for the interruption, I explained my problem. She checked my phone and thought that it should bee able to indicate the route, because everything was correct. Suddenly, she noticed that the phone was set to indicate the route on foot. She rectified the indication and the route magically appeared.

It was one more example of the solidarity of  people on the road, in the moments when you need it most.

I thanked her deeply and sincerely and headed to Barcelona, a huge city where the entrance is long, fast, with tunnels and very dense traffic.

The fear of getting lost again due to new wrong indications of the browser, the impossibility of predicting what other inconveniences might arise made me not try to enter any other town or city on my return, and at 12 noon, without any problems, I arrived at Hertz Ride, greeted and hugged David, who was waiting for me at five in the afternoon, and ended my trip.

I still had a lot to know, a lot to do, but I had lived a new and different adventure and I felt enriched just for that.

In my mind, I said good bye to the Honda NC 750 in which I had traveled 4000 kilometres  and which I will never forget.

 

I have fulfilled my goals: going with Mariano to Brussels Musical Instruments Museam; going back to the Basque Country, meeting  my family again and traveling by motor bike.

It has been an excepctional experience and now I come back to my ordinary life.