Too soon we have to leave this haven, and our ride from here descends out of the mountains through busy towns and on bigger roads.  The promise of the coast awaits and everyone is eager to see the famous Costa Brava, the Catalonian coastline along the Mediterranean Sea.  This should be quite a contrast from what we have seen the rest of the trip, and our guide promises us the switchbacks along the coast are as good if not better than yesterday’s challenging mountain passes.

Finally we reach the coast and stop for lunch in a bustling tourist city.  Several of us decided to treat ourselves to a lunch of paella at a beautiful yacht club.  The food was artistic and sumptuous.  The setting was relaxing and divine.  A real treat.

From here, the coastline ride begins.  The Costa Brava stretches from the border of France and Spain south about 125 miles to the port of Blanes.  Costa Brava means wild coast, and by the looks of the rocky cliffs and rugged surf, it has earned its name.  Frankly, it reminds me of the Pacific Coast Highway in California -- same natural attraction that has nothing to do with man and everything to do with God.  This is a huge tourist draw for Catalonia.  We are truly excited to be here.

The highway is a series of unending switchbacks that necessitates a slower speed but unquestionably creates a faster heartbeat.  I can tell Raye is excited about the ride, but like all the other drivers, he is concentrating on the road, the speed, the turns, the traffic.  I, on the other hand, am mesmerized by the azure blue water and crashing surf.  Since I am riding on the back, I am treated to a shoreline show of splendor, and I make my best efforts to capture some pictures so Raye and the others can see this region.  We make one stop from a perfect scenic overlook. It is hard to get us back on the bikes – from here we know the ride is coming to a close and we must get on a major highway to make it back to Barcelona before sunset.

This part of the ride back is filled with traffic, wind, and an unexpected rain.  Seems fitting as we say good bye to the mountains and now the coast.  I loved Barcelona a week ago, but honestly I am sad to return to this amazing city because it marks the end of our trip.  We pull wearily into the hotel, check in, and most of us collapse for a quick nap.  It has been a long day of riding, and we have one last dinner together before parting ways.

Tonight is a celebration, and everyone is filled with stories, hugs and promises of staying in touch.  We salute our guides and enjoy piano playing by Charles.  Raye and I head for bed before too late as our flight leaves fairly early from the airport.  I can hardly wait to see the kids, but I will miss these new friends incredibly.

It is a bittersweet evening.

I’m going to learn to ride my own bike.  After 20 years of marriage, I admit it is a bit tough to think of creative and exciting things to give to one another.  But my husband outdid himself on this one.  He was almost giddy when he told me, after all the other Christmas presents had been opened, that I was really going to love what he had gotten for me.

And he was right – at least I think so.  The Basic Rider Course is this weekend.  I hope I love it as much as I do riding on the back of his bike, which I have been doing for a year now.  “You were meant to ride,” he has told me several times since as I have checked the calendar to see if I had some open time to take the weekend-long class.  “You’re going to love it.”  Why, I’m not exactly sure.  But I am sure there are a few universal reasons people latch on to this incredibly popular sport and ride like the wind whenever they can.

The first thing that comes to my mind is speed.  Not kill-yourself type of speed, but just the sensation of having nothing between you and the elements as you move along down the road.  I imagine it to be a little like water-skiing, snow-skiing or even snowmobiling, if you have ever engaged in those sports.  I fell in love with all three the first time I learned and became addicted to that feeling of flying.  When I was a kid, I used to think the greatest thing would be if man could fly, and wondering if they were ever going to invent those packs you strap on your back that let you fly around like in the sci-fi movies.

The other obvious reason to ride is control.  How does it feel to have all that power in your hands, to make the decisions about how to take the turn or just simply starting the thing up under your command?  As the passenger, I wouldn’t know, but I imagine it’s pretty great.  Like anything in life, there is a thrill that comes from being in charge, of successfully maneuvering obstacles, of making something powerful work for you.  This time it happens to be a two-wheeled, 400-pound, 100-plus horsepower, sleek driving machine.

Better learn how to control that.