I find the affair of the penthouse that Mrs. Ayuso had bought by a public company to be serious, and I would like to read the suitability and opportunity reports that considered that public money should be invested precisely in this property. It is true that Planifica Madrid can buy and sell properties, but this does not exempt it from explaining what the public interest of the operation is. Did they consider buying other cheaper spaces? Did they publicly announce that a process of acquiring spaces to study the market was opening? Why, precisely, a penthouse? Why an apartment in a residential building, where the rest of the neighbors will surely be affected by complex security measures? Should an acquisition of such a high amount be approved by a board of directors? Did no one question this absurdity? Moreover, since the purchase has come to light in the media without anyone having been held accountable, he says that the profits from the sale will be allocated to those affected by the fires. That is, if there are profits, of course. Because it could perfectly happen that no buyer matches the price. Spain is a country that minimizes these episodes with all sorts of parodies and jokes, but how many schools are waiting for a similar investment to get out of the provisionality of the barracks and, instead, no one buys them apartments in residential neighborhoods to teach classes in decent conditions?Apparently, someone had a whim for a penthouse with a view, and this gives me an opportunity to talk about a very sensitive aspect of architecture, which is the possibility of framing the landscape. The general plan limits heights in Barcelona, which is why a flat on the sixteenth floor objectively offers the best panorama of the city. On the other hand, in Manhattan, a flat on the thirtieth floor can have mediocre views compared to those from the fiftieth. In Brooklyn, however, the few flats that rise above the twelfth floor are better than those in Manhattan, because they allow the gaze to extend over the blocks of houses between party walls, interspersed with leafy trees of the same height. And in the background, right in the back plane, you can see the skyline of Manhattan, without mountains or any other backdrop. At night, all these urban landscapes twinkle, and the penthouse residents become aware of the thousands of homes at their feet.In summer, cities empty of residents who seek, precisely, a change of scenery. And second homes, hotels, or campsites are chosen to see, exactly, the opposite. The most desired are sea views or high windows over hills, which allow one to see various depths of landscape and all the registers of colors: mown fields of yellow, light green riverine trees, and blackish wild forests. The rural world is full of built structures well integrated into geographical accidents. The location of villages on top of hills, or the placement of the church at the highest point, with a bell tower that stands out above any roof, seems logical. These environments are pleasing because they are understood at first glance: their geometry is perfectly explained by the rules of geographical implantation.

The gigantic, excessive dimensions of the large red bench (the Big Bench) in Sant Jordi Desvalls make everyone who sits on it feel small, with their legs hanging down as if they were a child, but this feeling of smallness is compensated by the immensity of the views offered by its privileged location: in a nearly 360-degree turn, on clear days, the silhouettes of Canigó, Les Gavarres, Montgrí, L'Albera, Mare de Déu del Mont, Rocacorba, and El Far can be discerned on the horizon. Wooden indicators placed in a circle point towards where to look to discover each of these mountains. Another indicator points towards the beautiful hamlet of Diana, a must-visit.

When they built the jetty, the bay became a lagoon. This morning, the clouds form a roof over it. As a child, for me the tip of the pier represented a mysterious boundary that I could see from home. It was adult territory. There is a photograph of a septuagenarian Gaziel sitting on the jetty, with his cane beside him. At the tip of the pier there is a modest lighthouse, like a white match with a green tip. It has large black numbers painted on it which are the geographical coordinates, 41º46.5’ N and 3º1.9’ E.

Enjoying an exceptional panoramic view and being able to glimpse, in a 360-degree turn, the Girona plain, the Medes Islands, the Montgrí massif, the Pyrenees, Montseny, the Rocacorba mountain range, and the Guilleries mountains is well worth the effort required for the now legendary Subida a los Ángeles (Ascent to the Angels), with its climb known as Matahomes and a route with a significant elevation gain of 425 meters in just 9 km. Difficulty and scenic beauty (not only that enjoyed once you reach the summit, but also that offered by the entire route, in the heart of the Les Gavarres massif, with such attractive spots as the Bishop's Fountain and the Olivet d'en Sauleda) converge in this race, which celebrates its 62nd edition this Sunday. Established in 1964 by the Gironí Excursionist and Sports Group (GEiEG), it is the oldest mountain race in the State and, despite its difficulty, each year it brings together more than five hundred participants in the three modalities: competitive, popular and inclusive, the latter for people who go in wheelchairs.

The tramontana wind, bitterly cold this mid-November Monday, howls furiously through the narrow, steep streets of Cadaqués, deserted today, with closed doors and windows and drawn shutters on bars and restaurants, all displaying signs announcing extended holidays. Quietude, tranquility, and the only sound, the onslaught of the tramontana. This is the Cadaqués that the Japanese painter Shigeyoshi Koyama loves, the Cadaqués he so desperately misses during the summer, when the revelry and noise take over the town day and night, forcing him into exile in the quiet village of Vilanova de la Muga until September, when the summer visitors leave and Cadaqués returns.

The peasant revolt, expressed in noisy demonstrations, but also in provocative actions such as turning village entrance signs upside down, has inspired the new Brots festival, which will be held from October 30 to November 2 in several villages in the Baix Empordà region. It will combine music, dance, and visual arts as a tribute to a land where "for millennia, the people of the grove worked their backs off to extract green gold from the olive trees." Organized by the Musical Youth of Torroella de Montgrí, Brots is an anti-festival that deliberately distances itself, in terms of its conception and dates, from the large summer festivals that attract crowds and are mostly held by the sea. "It's an initiative designed for everyone, but especially for the people of the country and the farmers, and to highlight that hinterland that is discovered when you look at land and not at sea," says Martí Sabrià, festival advisor.

I'm traveling on the medium-distance train from Barcelona to Girona. I'm content with the delay; we're used to it by now. Before I start reading, I look out the window and am mesmerized by the sight. Desolate.

Carles Llop, PhD in architecture (Lleida, 1958), is the human embodiment of the long-awaited fusion of city and countryside. He is a member of the Department of Urban Planning at the Polytechnic University of Barcelona (which he directed for seven years) and, together with the architects Sebastià Jornet and Joan Enric Pastor, has received multiple awards for numerous urban transformation plans (such as that of the Mina neighborhood in Sant Adrià de Besòs). At the same time, he has also been responsible for territorial planning projects and a large number of landscape intervention projects. His latest project has been the publication of a collective book by the Horitzons 2050 Private Foundation entitled Let's mobilize! Rural world! New ruralities for historic territories (Fonoll Publishing).

On Sunday morning, TV3 offered us the Epic Trail Sky The Boí Valley, the 24-kilometer race that runs through spectacular landscapes, along high mountain trails, with steep climbs and descents that pose a demanding challenge for participants. For viewers, however, the broadcast is relaxing, almost hypnotic. You are captivated by the competition and the natural surroundings. The Boí Valley at its best, with its intense greenery that, in the context of stifling heat like the one we're experiencing these days, was a balm, at least visually. The TV3 team, along with Maria Fernández, Josep Maria Puig, Jordi Grau, and the technical analysis by Anna Comet and Marc Pinsach, offered interesting and entertaining coverage. But it's a broadcast in which the production is key. The bird's-eye images from drones and helicopters provide a privileged view of this area of the Pyrenees, which becomes the best tourist promotion. It's also impressive to see how the cameramen behind them follow the best-positioned participants. The epic performance of the runners is as commendable as that of the technical team following them so we can see it clearly from home. The analysts made it easier for even the most novice viewers to understand the challenges and difficulties. The broadcast allowed for very close monitoring of the participants' progress. The Epic Trail is exciting because of the physical effort it requires from the runners and the fascinating landscapes, the peaks and trails we may never walk, but which the television window brings us closer to our sofas at home.

From the balcony of my house I can see the badius of some low houses in the centre of Badalona and that makes me feel lucky. In one of the badius there is an almond tree – which is currently in bloom, as it should be – and a huge magnolia that in June will bring us the intense and sweet aroma of its flowers. It is a small oasis of silence and calm in the middle of a noisy and often dizzying city. Behind the windows, I contemplate the white cloud of almond blossoms in silence and leave behind the streams of people going to the metro, the heavy traffic of the buses and the distant murmur of the motorway.