Cedric - Agullana, Spain
It all started when…
In the summer of 2024, while journeying through northern Spain to visit my friend Manel for his 65th birthday, I crossed paths with Cedric. Manel had gathered friends from all over at his home to celebrate, and Cedric was among them, having ridden his AJP enduro motorbike all the way from Germany, through France, and into Spain. It was a 600cc adventure bike, meant for off-road trails, and the thought of him riding it on highways to get there made me wince. Yet, when Cedric found me at the party, I had an instant feeling we’d hit it off—and I wasn’t wrong.
Cedric was French, fluent in five languages, and a remarkable travel companion. He spent the day showing me around Agullana, Spain, taking me on an off-road loop that passed through quaint little towns with cobblestone streets. We eventually met up with his son and a friend at a hidden BBQ spot deep in the woods, where Cedric knew the owner. We feasted on meats, cheeses, and traditional Spanish BBQ, washed down with stories and laughter. It was the kind of meal that makes you forget about time, lost in the company of good friends.
Afterward, we rode through narrow dirt trails until we reached an old Catholic monastery. As we sat beneath its ancient arches, Cedric recounted the story of the restaurant he once owned in the Spanish mountains—a place he had rented from the Catholic Church. The building, over 300 years old, had no amenities: no running water, no gas, nothing but the stones that formed its walls. Cedric had to bring everything he needed and renovate the place to make it livable. It was 25 kilometers away from the nearest town, perched in isolation, where he learned to live with less and appreciate the quiet beauty of mountain life.
Later, we climbed a small mountain in Agullana. I rode Manel’s Ducati Scrambler, following Cedric as he led the way. When we reached the top, he smiled and said, “We’re here,” as if we had reached the pinnacle of our little adventure.
On my return through southern France, I had the pleasure of visiting Cedric’s mother, Claudette. Her hospitality was as warm as the summer breeze, and before I left, she insisted I take home her homemade apricot and strawberry jams. After a slow, four-hour dinner filled with stories and wine, I finally had to say my goodbyes, knowing I still had an hour’s ride through the dark to return to Agullana. We exchanged hugs, and I rode off into the night, feeling grateful for the unexpected friendships and the joy of wandering wherever the road takes me.