Evening over the vineyards of La Rioja wine country, Spain. Looking west along the Sierrade Cantabria Mountains from the town of Laguardia.
"Paella is a Valencian dish, from the east coast of Spain. Here in this modest dining room, it was sensational. A colorful riot of seafood came to Brett’s table...It was more than dinner; it was a conversation with people who’d created it...They spoke to him with every bite.”
There are many regional variations of the classic Spanish rice dish Paella, but the origin is said to be Valencia. To experience it, we went to the source. This is a Paella de Mariscos served in a restaurant in the city of Valencia.
“The words were Spanish but the stories–about love, betrayal, loss, and redemption–were universal. They were achingly sad, bright and joyful, joking and playful, and profoundly wise...A culture told its story, delivered by performers who became every man, every woman, and every family. Brett felt like a voyeur looking through a window into that culture.”
Flamenco is an essential experience on any trip to Spain. It’s a little hard to describe, because it seduces you not all at once, but in stages. It usually starts simply–one man and a guitar. Then the singers gather, using hands and feet for percussion. Then the dancers get going and by the time they hit their apex they’ve transcended performance to have a personal conversation with you and tell you their story. I felt like I’d lived a full-length novel by the end of it.
The experience pictured here was at the Corral de la Moreria Flamenco club in Madrid, and like Brett, I did leave the club feeling closer to the Spaniards than when I’d walked in.
“‘¡Pantalones blancos! No pantalones blancos!’ they hooted. Apparently, keeping any clothing white was not allowed. Streams of wine covered him from the waist down...After being in the thick of ‘battle’ for about thirty minutes, Brett was drenched and purple with wine.”
The annual “Batalla del Vino” or wine battle just outside the town of Haro in La Rioja, Spain is a real event that I use as a fitting escape route for my main characters as they flee pursuit by the local authorities. Police have checkpoints everywhere. The answer? Hide in plain sight and disappear in a crowd of purple, wine-drenched, tipsy festival-goers who are all dressed alike. As is the custom, we dressed in white clothing just for this event, and as Brett himself describes, it was “a baptism in wine from the townspeople of Haro.”
“Brett noticed what had to be a Gaudí-designed building on the left–its organically-shaped façade seemed to have been poured into place from above.”
A trip to Barcelona isn’t complete without a study of the works of architect Antoni Gaudí, because he contributed so much to the unique personality of the city. And it goes beyond the monumental Sagrada Familia church–his works are scattered throughout Barcelona. These places are perfect settings for a novel, and of course I am not the first author to think so. Pictured here is Gaudí’s Casa Batlló apartment building, located on the Passeig de Gràcia, Barcelona’s most fashionable thoroughfare.
“Gaudí framing Gaudí...”
A remembered sightline toward the Church of Sagrada Família from one of Brett Collins’ previous trips to Barcelona that provides a pivotal clue to the mystery at hand.
“Gaudí’s 'naturalist’ columns, whose capitals resembled treetops, gave the feeling of walking into a sylvan glade of stone sequoias...Brett could feel the structure of the church–every column, every arch, each and every stone–as something alive, as though the entire thing was silently growing up from the ground around him rather than being built. He felt compelled to step softly...”
Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s greatest masterwork of church architecture in Barcelona, has appeared in many novels–I’m far from the first author to go there. This is a special place and one can’t just go chasing through it. I decided to present the church after dark–silent and in low light. I add a full moon shining through the east windows for atmosphere. And I have Brett stop to take it all in. Although the place feels eternal, the moment feels almost fragile and fleeting and his senses heighten in order to capture it before it’s gone.
To better convey the feeling of riding through the vineyards of Spain on horseback, I went and had the experience myself. This is the Penedés wine region, southwest of Barcelona.
“Licorella, the famous, stony black slate of Priorat...”
Great wines happen in the vineyard, and it starts with the soil. Every wine is different because every place is different and the essence of every place is the soil. The taste of each wine contains clues that point to its origins–the soil it came from. In The Council of Saragossa, these clues become the most important ones. Pictured here are free-standing vines growing on a hillside in the rocky-slate Licorella soil of the Priorat wine region.
“Brett’s eye passed over vine rows punctuated at each end by brilliant red roses, the sage-green hillsides beyond, and the cliffs of the Montsant, glowing in the evening sunlight. The healing energy from this landscape washed over him...”
Great wine regions always seem to be set within epic landscapes. These landscapes are dynamic; they ripple with hills and valleys, the soils are diverse, the microclimates vary widely. They aren’t flat, singular monocultures; they’re bursting with rich varieties of crops and humming with energy. And it isn’t just about grapes and wine–all of the harvests and all of the people make them the rich places they are. Pictured: Vineyards in the Priorat wine region of Spain