The mysterious cat

Look how tiny I am, cat-shaped there on the right, and how little the windows are. John's photo.

After a couple of nights in this centuries-old stone farmhouse outside of Solsona, Spain, we departed in our little rented Leon. Maybe you know that leon, translated into English, means puma or lion, but at the time I didn't think about that.

This mountain in the Pyrenees resembles the Hindu Kush of Afghanistan.
John's photo.

I just admired the good job John was doing navigating the tight curves, and thought how strange it was that we had the mountain roads completely to ourselves, like we were the last people left on earth. But suddenly, after an hour or so of this dizzying drive all alone, we rounded a curve and were confronted by two cars heading towards us: SURPRISE. There was just room for the three of us on that narrow road...and then, while I was still taking in my breath...

I saw a shape in the brush at the side of the road.

It was a cat.

A big one.

For one astonished second, the cat looked straight at me, then turned and disappeared over a fallen log.

Living in Oregon, a place were large wild cats are considered plentiful, I know many people who have seen cougars; our house lies on the circuitous path that mountain lions take through our area. I've wanted so badly to see a cougar, but they don't show themselves to me, ever. At the same time I've always thought that Europe-so long settled and "civilized"- is basically without wildlife, and relative to Oregon, it is. There just aren't big wild cats over there.

Well.

After the stunning moment of eye contact, I said matter-of-factly, "That was a cat." And to my relief, John said, "I saw it too."

Subdued, we made our way through the countryside and up to this house, Cal Paller.

Cal Paller sits in a remote, impossible location deep in Catalonia.

Recommended to us by Spanish friends, this was our big splurge before roughing it on our hikes in the mountains.

It was a room made for meditation and yoga, somewhat marred by the Joni Mitchell Christmas tape that was continuously playing.

We were greeted by a friendly woman, who said that we were "los unicos aqui" and chatting away, she showed us around. " Este es la sala d'chell-ow" she explained as she opened the room next to ours. A "chill-out room!" Just what we needed after our strange drive to this dramatic place where we were the only guests.

 

Also just what we needed: beef steak and potatoes. I almost never eat steak, but just this once...

Oh, and this, too: an exquisite dessert. Dark chocolate shell, filled with custard and kiwi, topped with a razor-thin pineapple chip.

When I went to bed I was still thinking about the wild cat. It had happened too quickly to get a picture, and, aside from John, probably nobody would ever believe me.

But here's the thing. Before falling asleep we opened our shuttered window to let in the cool mountain air, and what should appear on the sill but a pure white cat, greeting my outstretched hand.

She came into the room and regarded us for a long while, in the moonlight, from beneath a wash stand. Then like a ghost in the night she left. Call me a crazy fool, but I took her as an affirmation. There are wild cats in Europe.