This past week, after visiting a new client in Palafrugell, we spent an incredible night in a sleepy seaside pueblo called Llafranc, approximately 135 km northeast of Barcelona. It was a chance for us to get away for a night as a couple, far from tweets, status updates and cellphones!

This coastal section of Catalunya is known as the Costa Brava, stretching from Blanes, 60 km northeast of Barcelona, all the way to the French border. Costa in both Catalan and Castellano means ‘coast’, while Brava means ‘rugged’ or ‘wild’. In the 1950’s, under Franco, the government destined this area as the sweet holiday spot of Spain, hoping that substantial developments in restaurants and hotels would entice both the Brits and the French to spend leisurely vacations relaxing along the sandy shore. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your view, his vision was realized; and today, tourists swarm this section of Spain, half clad in flip flops and bathing suit bottoms, with a drink in hand.

As for myself, the Costa Brava holds a very special place in my heart. Not three years ago, I took my first dive into the Mediterranean on a chilly September evening, flooded with an eerie full moon’s light, swearing to myself that I would come back to live. Well, I may not have my rustic Spanish home along the sea quite yet, but at least I was able to smell the rich scent of lavender, pine and rosemary, alongside ceramic pots filled with brightly colored flowers. And as a heavy blanket of fog settled among the mountain valleys, as seen by the lighthouse just above our hotel last Monday night, I was happy to be back!

However, part of my …