<\/p>\n

Shifting into fourth gear I started to wonder if the world was coming to an end.\u00a0The ray of sunshine shadowing my car had gone, suddenly replaced by a large black cloud that loomed almost directly over head.\u00a0A shot of lightning streaked across the horizon followed by an earth-shattering boom. The heavens broke and rain clattered down on the windscreen.<\/p>\n

I pulled over in the nearby rest area, expecting the worst. Before I had a chance to turn on the\u00a0windshield\u00a0wipers, the cloud burst had ceased.\u00a0I exited the car to survey the sky and found myself looking out into the most awe-inspiring Turneresque landscape.\u00a0I stood transfixed. A single ray of sunshine penetrated the cloudy sky, lighting up a small remote village perched upon the mountain top. It stood in true rustic glory as it has for over 100 years. I had to pinch myself. Yes, I really was in the Pyrenees.<\/p>\n

Our goal: Barcelona to Andorra for a dinner reservation in one of the principality’s most renowned restaurants, a reservation which was now becoming an increasingly difficult task.\u00a0Cable cars, funicular railways, a Benedictine abbey and, finally, a guilt-ridden after-lunch walk to the peak of Montserrat — Catalonia\u2019s most emblematic mountain chains — did absolutely nothing for our punctuality.<\/p>\n

Later on in the day, making terrible time in the Cerdanya Valley with an ever-increasing haste, we motored round the next mountain and another Kodak moment presented itself.<\/p>\n

Like mountain view paparazzi we stood on line with group of day trippers and jostled for photos. \u201cOooh\u201d sighed a heavyset Russian man next to us. \u201cThis is just like IMAX,\u201d he remarked, his eyes never straying from the camera viewfinder.<\/p>\n

Every so often we pulled over to play our newfound game: \u201cSpot the hidden village.\u201d In between valleys and mountains, a small hamlet or random church would appear in the distance, leaving us wondering what life would be like in amongst the clouds.<\/p>\n

Bewilderment kicked in when it began to rain heavily as we entered the T\u00f9nel de Cad\u00ed only to find clear sky and sunshine on the way out. This happened more than once as we threaded our way through the Pyrenean road tunnels.<\/p>\n

As we neared Andorra, the last of the spring snow could be seen at the top of the rising peaks. Every so often rustic taverns reminded us our dinner appointment was edging increasingly closer.\u00a0Once we had made it to Puigcerd\u00e0 — one of the largest towns in the Pyrenees — we knew we were almost there. Radio Andorra signaled us in Spanish, Catalan and French, and\u00a0it wasn\u2019t long before the twisting mountain roads rolled out into Andorra.<\/p>\n

After a frantic last-ditch attempt to find our dinner reservation, and with only seconds to spare, we made it, and all we could do was sit in the restaurant’s exquisite dining room, giggling, drunk on pure sensory overload.<\/p>\n

By Anthony Bain<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

About the Author<\/strong><\/p>\n

Anthony’s intrepid writings and accidental ramblings from deepest darkest Barcelona can be found at his blog\u00a0The Barcelona Review<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Shifting into fourth gear I started to wonder if the world was coming to an end.\u00a0The ray of sunshine shadowing my car had gone, suddenly replaced by a large black cloud that loomed almost directly over head.\u00a0A shot of lightning streaked across the horizon followed by an earth-shattering boom. The heavens broke and rain clattered […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":11480,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1,2562,2573],"tags":[2301,2300,30,2302,4],"yoast_head":"\n