The House that Dali Built

Two Dali museums down, one more to go.
The first was in Figueres, the Teatro Museo... an extremely popular museum. The holy bible of traveling (aka guidebook) hath so-seriously-you-guys declared it top most visited museum in Spain, or something along those lines.
I don´t know about all that, but the big crowd did somehow force my experience. Hard to get lost in an art piece and be jostled at the same time.
I was lucky... I walked into the room of his tomb just at the right moment. I was the only person there. It was a nice touch.
The Teatro Museo was first created by Dali... constructed on the ruins of a burned theater in his hometown (the actual site of his first art exhibition at age 14). The Mayor of Figueres asked Dali to donate a painting to the town. The artist refused, instead promising a museum of his design. And there it was.
As you can imagine the whole building is a surrealist experience down to every minute detail.

The real winner though was Casa de Dali which I visited today.
This was Dali and Gala´s (his wife and muse) home and studio. They lived here until Gala´s death.
This place is so wild, shit! I want a house like this someday... seriously.
Three separate fishing huts strung together... it grew and evolved over years, the universe of Dali in a physical labyrinth. To enter it is to enter a shrine.
Due to the size, the number of visitors are strictly limited... adding to the aura.
In fact, you´re supposed to call ahead and reserve tickets. Solo to the rescue... if you´re alone, sometimes it works in your favor.
Something about the intimacy of the whole experience... hushed and holy... was riveting. Be it the mirror positioned just ye, so the artist could see the light of dawn from his bed; or Gala´s private room designed by her lover... the acoustics of which created a dreamlike echo, completely confusing and enhancing for any ear-eye coordination.
In this house, a hall was not just a hall: completely white... blank except for a tiny birdcage, it could have been an artpiece... but it wasn´t... it was his home.
Very moving day for me.
After that I took a walk by and then a swim in the Mediterranean.
In case you were wondering, yes nude beaches exist in Spain (stop reading if nudity makes you queasy):
no, they aren´t marked, a regular beach becomes a nude beach when someone takes their pants off, but they do tend to be remoter... yes I saw a lot of tits, pussy, and dick today... no they weren´t all pleasant to look at... yes that means flabby, saggy, hairy, etc. But one or two weren´t bad. I might try it tomorrow.
Instead of getting nude today... I jumped off a cliff and then I jumped off another higher cliff. Nothing too high, about 30ft maybe I just saw some kids jumping and surviving so I gave it a try. Fun stuff.
The past two nights, I have been extremely lax about finding places to sleep. Both places I found after 9pm. Instead of paying too much for a hostel, I just figure I can grab a midnight bus and sleep on it... since it doesn´t really matter where I go. As long as I keep moving.
In other news... I am happy to announce I have bought a plane ticket back to the States and will begin my season of money making in Montana this time: Mountain Sky Guest Ranch. At least until October and then it´ll be the road again.
Cheers.