From Barcelona, Catalonia
When finished, the Sagrada Familia will have taken some 200 years to complete. In an era when even the largest buildings take less than a couple of years, it’s like a horse and carriage turning up, unapologetically, to an F1 race.

Likewise, there is no way that this building should be here: culturally, socially, physically, economically, it defies logic. And that is precisely what gives it such extraordinary force and power.

From Aigüestortes, Catalonia
It takes a special landscape to retain its full charm in the rain. One early October morning, Aigüestortes pulled it off effortlessly.

Silvery waterfalls rushed furiously and autumnal reds and yellows spread through the mixed forests which colour blocked the mountainsides. Chaffinches hopped from lush pine to lush pine, grey clouds shrouded the pointy peaks in a mysterious cloak and a rainbow formed against the deep green surface of the lake.

From La Garrotxa, Catalonia
We were always going to take the detour. Why wouldn't we walk an extra 2km to visit a mysterious Romanesque chapel in a volcano crater?

Through the beech trees our trail wound until emerging on a sunny clearing, like a high mountain pasture. Only this was nothing of the kind. In the Middle Ages, pilgrims trod these paths for religious ends. For us, our pilgrimage led us to a picnic spot which will take some beating.

From Girona, Catalonia
Girona wears its identity with pride, unabashed by political declarations or a need to fall quietly in line. "Self-determination is a right, not a crime" I'm told again and again, in English and Catalan.

Just two weeks later, a Spanish court sentenced nine politicians to imprisonment for their role in the 2017 failed independence bid. Many are facing over a decade behind bars. Clearly, the authorities disagree with the sentiment.

From Girona, Catalonia
We stood beneath an old olive tree, stately and grey in a shaded patio. I could have sworn we were in the garden of some old country manor. Through a crumbling stone arch and rusting iron gate we found views off to green hills where a clutch of houses nestled. There were pert cypress trees in neat rows and pink snapdragon flowers pointing up to a big blue sky.

Somewhere below, out of sight and out of earshot, was a city. A city I rather like.

From Cadaqués, Catalonia
Though Dalí ended his days in Cadaqués, the town rarely feels overrun and as local families still own nearly everything, there are no high-rise hotels. Everything shuts down in winter for people to rest and recharge. A relaxed Mediterranean lifestyle dominates.

This moment celebrates the simple pleasure of fresh food and a drink, with feet resting in the sand after a walk along the coast through the beautiful Cap de Creus.

From the Costa Brava, Catalonia
I think I inadvertently awoke Núrea from her afternoon nap at her organic vineyard, tucked away in the hills up a bumpy dirt track. Her pride at what she and her husband Diego Soto have achieved here shone through with no airs or graces. They simply fell in love with this place, respected the terrain enough not to contaminate it and are pleased to share it with anyone interested.

They are, like many I've met in Spain, deeply appreciative of their lot in life.

From Empúries, Catalonia
I remember standing between the Greek agora and Roman forum, watching the lush pine trees loll left and right in the gentle breeze. Behind them, the golden sands of a small Costa Brava beach, the bright blue waters of the Mediterranean and the shimmering white façades of a not-so-far-off village which spilled down the hillside.

I know that's a lot of adjectives, but it really was that beautiful.