Reminiscing today, while floating on the water watching independence day fireworks, about how we found our finca, the aptly named C'an Do. Two years ago this November, while visiting the young Cyrus, doing his semester abroad in Rome with Cornell, we hopped a plane to Barcelona, on a lark. Already the proud landowners on a piece of property in southern Spain (another blog :), we were searching around on the internet for something with more acreage and a ruin. For some reason possibilities popped up in Catalonia. And that is what took us to Barcelona, via Rome. From there we rented a car and headed to the Priorat, Gratallops specifically. Met Waldo and Cristina, Angel and Monse, toured crazy backwoods properties with various expat Brits turned real estate agents. Met Jeff, more than an expat. Stumbled upon C'an Do on a beautiful fall day in November, perfectly blue skies, fell in love with it, and here we are, awaiting permits to reclaim a marvelous 20 acres in the Montsant. Not sure what it was; the olive trees, the casita, the blue sky, the desire for a new perspective. This is the mystery, the stuff of dreams, the magic of life. It is a project that will test our patience, determination, and stamina. What we long for is a slice of heaven on earth, a place to build up, a treasure to leave the babies.
