Pure Belleza | ✔️

(57)

It was our second day in Barcelona. The weather had been ideal since we arrived.

Not too hot but the sun was out and we were comfortable in short sleeve shirts.

The day we'd arrived, we'd settled into our apartment in Catalunya. A nice place with a modern cultural vibe. White decor with light timber fixtures.

A lot of natural light and space.

We'd explored the city centre. There was a lot of walking while we admired the exquisite culture.

The buildings. The enriching sights.

Catalunya square was incredible. Enormous with red and blue brick. Geometrical designs and fountains.

I'd never seen Amalia so enthralled. She skipped beside me. She pointed and laughed and tugged on my hand so we could go faster and then she would pull me to a stop so she could reminisce.

My favourite part was when she recognised a place. Somewhere that she'd been in the past.

She'd gasp. "I used to eat here whenever we came to Catalunya. It's been painted. And that's new. But Max, the nostalgia. It's such an intense emotion."

She was so enthusiastic. The most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed.

Today we'd decided to go further.

A vineyard and wine tasting tour in Alella. The car collected us from the apartment at nine in the morning and we'd arrived just after ten.

We weren't part of a group. It was just the two of us. The first thing we did was have breakfast in a garden. Lush with green trimmed hedges and rustic chairs and tables.

The food was traditional. The wine was made on site. There was toast and marmalade's that could have been made from the fruits of Eden.

It was a flavour burst. Croissants. Coffee. Fruits and omelettes.

Amalia sat across the small two seater table in her floor length black sundress. The straps were thin and she had a large sunhat on top of her long wavy hair.

She was a vision under the luminous of the sun with a glass of red wine in her hand.

She belonged here. It suited her.

After breakfast we were able to do a more in depth wine tasting. There were several and I wasn't a huge fan of wine but it was good. Our tour guide was a short woman in her fifties with a thick accent and a plump figure. She was so sweet.

Before we went out into the vineyard, we were able to purchase bottles of wine to have them sent home. I had one sent to Mom and Dad. Amalia sent one to her father.

"The grapes are hand picked and collected," our tour guide explained, walking ahead of Amalia and I who held hands. The sun was unfiltered and warmed our shoulders. "Gentle pressing is carried out. Only the free run juice is used. In both vats and barrels, fermentation is temperature controlled to ensure that the vinification is well managed."

We listened to her information while we admired the vast landscape. Views of the coastline could be seen and offered a different shade of nature to the picture.

It was all surreal. This country didn't just come with extravagant history and culture. But it came with a feeling. It seeped into the veins and settled in the soul.

Everything felt brighter. More magnified. Whenever I looked at Amalia, I felt as if I was going to take a knee and ask her to be my wife.

Which was insane and it was way too soon. But it was the environment. It instilled romance into the simplest places and moments.