Francesc Cots: "I've been without money, water, or electricity for fifteen years."

BarcelonaIn October, it will be fifteen years since Francesc Cots lived in a fisherman's shack in Cala Estreta, Palamós. "I was left with nothing and came to live here," says Quico, as he is popularly known. He is now in his late 70s. He spent three years sleeping in his car before, but had to sell it to support his ex-wife and be able to see his daughter. He lives without water or electricity. Also without money. He lives off what people passing through the cove give him.

A few days ago, a young man who works as a cook at a hotel in Calella de Palafrugell brought him a dozen cartons of milk and water by kayak. Despite being short on water, Quico always offers it to whoever asks. "Five people I gave water to back then came back a few years later with an eight-liter jug. Life gives back what you give," he explains happily. When he doesn't have any, he walks the six kilometers to the nearest fountain. "My father, who was part of the Quita del Biberón movement, gives me the strength to not give up," he says.

Although he's aware he could receive a subsidy, he doesn't want to get caught up in the system, and the little money he collects is given to him by tourists through exchanges. "Sometimes, when I invite someone for a coffee, they leave me a tip, and I use that money to buy food or water," he explains. Fortunately, for the past nine years, a shop in Sant Joan de Palamós has been giving him credit for his purchases, as was done in the past. Since the cove is always full in the summer, he takes the opportunity to stock up and buy what he needs at this shop and pay for it in the winter. "I've only gone a few days without food, only when I arrived here because I didn't have the energy to do anything," he says. People have always supported him. Once a month, the manager of a nearby hotel invites him to breakfast at her establishment: "I eat four pastries and a coffee with milk. She always tells me to bring a sandwich, but I don't because when you overindulge, you lose everything."

And how does he deal with loneliness? "I don't feel alone. People always pass by here, even in winter, and my parents are here in spirit. At night, I put a photo of them on the table and I feel like they're protecting me, sending me signs, like in the movie." Frequency", explains Cots. Like the log he sits on, which when there's a storm, the sea carries it away and then returns so it won't leave him alone. Nor does he feel like the castaway played by Tom Hanks in one of his most famous films. "He had a plane crash, I came here because I wanted to," he explains. Living on this isolated island in Robert Zemeckis' film, Quico also has some dolls outside the shack. "They keep me company, but I put them there for the children who sell them, although the children no longer play," he laments. Years later, the City Council evicted him twice after the Generalitat (Generalitat) ceded it to the municipality, but he has since returned to it because, as he maintains, he "doesn't hurt anyone." Happier now than before, when he had everything. "Now I'm more generous sharing the little I have," he doesn't miss anything material.

He also doesn't mind being isolated. Not even having coverage and having to go to another cove or climb to the top of the cliff to be able to call with the cell phone his daughter bought him and which he charges with solar panels. "I found out about the blackout from the people coming down," he says, laughing. In the midst of a debate about tourism, Cots defends him and reminds us that Catalonia thrives on tourism. "We shouldn't complain so much, we're all tourists," he explains, although he admits that this year more people than ever have come to the cove because of the magazine. Lonely Planet has placed him among the hundred most beautiful in the world. "This year many Americans have come," he reveals. Who he can't stand is the Instagrammers"They are alone because they need people's approval," he says.

Quico stays with the people he's met over the years. Many of them hang a dream, "not a wish," on an idea he had ten years ago. "We burned them on New Year's Eve and not on San Juan, to make it different," he says. This year, forty people gathered. In the rugged area of Cap Roig, with a privileged view of the Formigues Islands, his dream is to be able to continue living in peace and harmony with nature: "All roads and I don't plan on leaving, but if they kick me out, I'll go," he says resignedly.