WWOOFing in Catalunya

By Megan

View from Señor Cufi's porch

Señor Cufi and I were not on good terms the summer morning I hiked away from his farm in Comàs, Spain.  He had refused to give me a ride into town to catch the morning bus from Banyoles, a twenty-minute drive, after spending a week living and working with him.  The six-mile hike down the mountain paths took a little under two hours and, regardless of the 5.30am wake-up and rude host, was actually quite beautiful.  In fact the entire week was filled with gorgeous vistas, naps taken in hammocks, and new experiences.

I spent the week working on his farm, clearing brush and brambles on his isolated hillside hide-away and in exchange for my work, I was given plenty of food, drink, and a bed to sleep on, with the added benefit of language exchange.  Sr. Cufi and I met through World-Wide Onsite Organic Farming of Spain (WWOOF), an organization that connects volunteers and hosts world-over with the hope of encouraging a more sustainable way of living.

As many have that felt the pull to a more pastoral scene, I thought that an escape to the Catalan country-side would not only help me better connect to a part of the world I had spent the last year living in, but give me the much desired opportunity to spend an entire week existing away from the English speaking world; it was that rare moment where I would be able to think, speak, and dream completely in Spanish and Catalan.  As it turned out, another wwoofer was also staying with Sr. Cufi; Scottish Julia had found cheap plane tickets and in true student mode found the least expensive experience she could, in Spain.  Anyway, even though she was rather quiet and spoke only English, we became good friends.

The farm is situated way up in the remote mountains of the village Comàs.  Covered in trees and bushes, it was our job to clear the brush enough to keep the forest from over growing.  Previous wwoofers had cleared a path down to a stream that ran through the valley and a 30 minute walk down through the horse pasture lead to a small swimming hole.  One evening, while Sr. Cufi's lady friend waited for another guest, Julia and I walked down to the water with our host, who upon arriving at the swimming hole, stripped off all of his clothes and sunned himself face-up in the stream as it trickled down the rock face.  I jumped in the water right away and focused my eyes and energy on willing on the tiny heard of fish to swim between my toes.

Scene in Empúries enjoyed by several millennia worth of beach-go'ers.

My free time was spent exploring the forests around the farm, hiking on paths cut by his goats- Apricot and her kids-, and reading whatever we could get our hands on.  Sr. Cufi kindly took us with him on errands and dropped us off in various parts of the northern region of Catalunya.  My first day there, my wwoofing friend and I went to Empúries to visit the Greek and Roman ruins, just off the Mediterranean, and after stomping around the ancient towns, we obligingly took a dip in the sea.  In Girona, a few days later, I discovered that butt kissing was actually good luck, as it is tradition to climb up the steps and kiss the lion's behind to ensure that one day you might return to the city.

Kissing up in Girona

Excluding the odd host, the time I spent on the farm clearing brush, hiking, and eating sardines was the perfect week away from my crazy Barcelona life.  I shared the back seat of the bus on the ride back to the city with a tuba and violin player, who were both obviously in love, and realized that I missed my little Barcelona family.  Eyes closed and sun on my face, I thought about the week to come; beach time and bike rides with my favorite girls- seven-year-old Alice and cheeky five-year-old Rosa.  Farm life is great, but just does not compare with time spent as the nanny of two, trilingual red heads.