New Year's Eve

Montserrat, northern Spain


Whilst Stu's running days were sadly curtailed by a ski-ing accident some years ago, he still has a creative genius when it comes to suggestions for unique runs. There was a memorable run in a long Sardinian cave system when hailstones the size of eggs were falling outside. And now this- a run through the mythical spires of Montserrat in north east Spain on New Year's Eve.



From the south, the immense conglomerate spires of Montserrat are captivating. A long line of almost excessive serrations, deeply incised teeth set in a flat plain. Driving up to them from the north, the sensation is the same, a dizzying steepness, spire after turreted spire.



Running up past the largest of the many monasteries and into the river-worn clefts between spires was like a running dream. The chattering crowds emptying out of the Basilica were headed the other way, back to the coaches. A few people lingered on the paths, not really sure how far to go in the fading light. I ran on and up to the top of Sant Jeroni, the largest of these incredible peaks. I arrived as the sun was about to set.



Many places like this are imbued with a sense of religious significance for obvious reasons: they are quite magical. But grains of truth are easy to come by in so many different ways, and aside from my conspiratorial run through this landscape of dream-like beauty, there were backpackers slowly and silently making their way to the tops of the spires to await the dawn of the New Year.



Running down the paths, the spires turned red in the evening light, appearing in and out of the trees and stretching away in the mind's eye. The full moon rose from behind a cloud, bathing the monastery in an orange glow. So this was the last run of 2009, and it was surely one to remember.