sant jeroni, montserrat

It was June and I was on a dear old school friends hen do in Barcelona. Not one for too much time visiting cities, I researched the closest hill – Sant Jeroni. Fortunately Becky and I share the same stance on hen do’s; no penis’s, no pink sashes and no organised ‘fun’.  Her mantra was, it’s you’re holiday too.

sant jeroni
Graffiti at the top sums it up

I took advantage of her view on this situation. It was a week before my Sunflowers for Soldiers expedition and I needed to walk. Alot, but there’s only so much city walking I can handle.  About 45 miles actually. Equally living in London it’s not easy to find a decent hill apart from the stairs in tube stations and I had 4 Mt Everest’s to climb in the next couple of weeks.

So I hopped on a train to Montserrat, climbed a mountain, met a new friend and was home in time for dinner.

sant jeroni
Alaskan Alexander and I

sant jeroni

 

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