Amboise (Centre-Val de Loire), France October 2024 (Tour 10)

So, after a disappointing stop in Nevers we made our way to Amboise. We first visited Amboise during Tour 3, some years ago, and very much enjoyed the place. During that particular visit I spent a fair amount of time in the Chateau Amboise following up my interest in the Tudors and Stuarts. This time I wanted to focus a little more on Leonardo de Vinci. He lived and worked in Amboise between 1516 and 1519 when he died.

After parking the Van up in the Municipal Campsite on L’Ile d’Or (Gold Island) in the middle of the Loire, I went off on a quest to learn more about da Vinci. I started at the tiny Eglise St Florentin, as much to get my bearings as anything, and then continued on through the Tour de L’Horloge to the town’s main square, the Place de Michel d’Ebre.

The Chateau Amboise fills one side of the Place de Michel d’Ebre and totally dominates the town. Leonardo da Vinci is, by all accounts, buried in the Saint Hubert Chapel up in the chateau grounds but; I don’t know how anyone can be so sure about that without performing a DNA test. Originally interred in the grounds of the Eglise St Florentin, his relics were supposedly moved by some of Napoleon Bonaparte’s troops to the chapel. However, I would be surprised if his grave was not dug up in the early days of the French Revolution when both the Eglise St Florentin and the Chapel were thoroughly ransacked by the mob.

It’s little more than a 10 minute walk along Rue Victor Hugo from Place de Michel d’Ebre to the small chateau that is the Maison du Clos Luce where Da Vinci lived and worked until he died in 1519. The house is well preserved and both decorated and furnished much as it would have been when occupied by da Vinci but, most interesting, are the many scale models dotted around the house and throughout the extensive gardens of some of da Vinci’s most imaginative inventions – airplanes, helicopters, parachutes, armoured tanks, etc. Absolutely fascinating. The man was a genius and hundreds of years ahead of his time. The Clos Luce is a must visit site during any visit to Amboise.

As always when I go out on my exploratory walks, a primary objective is to find a decent restaurant for the evening. I really struck lucky this time, choosing the Restaurant Anne de Bretagne on the Place de Michel d’Ebre. We had a fantastic evening there with the welcome and the food proving outstanding.

Perhaps not surprisingly, Vanya and I were amongst the last to leave the restaurant and, consequently, we had the old town almost to ourselves as we made our way back to the Van. There was just one other person on the Place de Michel d’Ebre – an accordianist playing the most French music. Wonderful!

France at it’s best. Shame we have to move on.

Nevers (Bourgogne-Franche-Comte), France October 2024 (Tour 10)

We arrived in Nevers on a beautiful day and, from where we were parked on the banks of the fast flooding River Loire, the town looked very interesting with it’s magnificent cathedral (dedicated to the Saints Cyr and Julitte) and the nearby 15th century Ducal Palace clearly visible across the river. Sadly, that was about as good as it got.

Our short stay in Nevers and, in particular, my visit to the cathedral proved a real disappointment. Almost all of the inside of the cathedral was blocked off for renovation work with only the Choir, behind the altar, open to the public (although some stunning stained glass windows could still be seen).

The stately Ducal Palace, described as a “modern palace that has retained it’s historical character”, looks magnificent from the outside but the inside is as sterile a building as I have seen (outside of the Castle Svevo in Bari – see Tour 1).

If the above wasn’t bad enough, the Saint Pierre Church was closed and almost all the principal streets were being dug up while block pavements are replaced.

I finished the day by continuing eastwards to the Eglise St Etienne which is supposedly one of the best preserved Romanesque style churches in the Region. I wasn’t disappointed with the church itself but my interest in the town had waned and so I decided to call it a day and return to the Van. The weather had turned anyway.

It is said that you should never say never again but I will never return to Nevers again unless or until they once again hold Formula 1 Racing at the old Nevers Magny-Cours Racing Circuit. I think the last Grand Prix event held there was in 2008 with a Ferrari winning the event?

Sorry, Nevers. we’re off now to an old favourite of ours, Amboise.

Ars Sur Formans (Auvergne-Rhone-Alpes), France October 2024 (Tour 10)

Much of this little village of just 1,500 people is a shrine to the former parish priest and cure, Jean-Marie Vianney, who served in Ars sur Formans during and after the Napoleonic era and is now revered by the Catholic faith as Saint John Vianney.

The village is dominated by the 19th century Basilica of Saint Sixtus (Saint Sixte in French) which was built just three years after his death around the original 12th century church where he ministered. The body of the priest is held in a glass reliquary inside the Basilica. Close by are 3 other significant buildings being (i) the Chapel of the Heart where the Saint’s heart is kept in a second more magnificent reliquary (his heart was removed for veneration, it being normal practise in those days to bury the heart of aristocracy separately) and (ii) the presbytery (which contains many of his personal possessions) where he lived during his time as a parish priest and (iii) a semi underground church, Notre Dame de la Misericorde, which was built in 1959 to mark the 100th anniversary of the Saint.

Also near the centre of Ars sur Formans is the Monument de la Recontre , a life-size statue symbolizing the arrival of Father Jean-Marie Vianney in the village in 1818 and meeting the little shepherd Antoine Givre – “You showed me the way to Ars and I will show you the way to heaven”. There is also a superb model depicting the village as it was at that time and a Grevin Wax Museum (a bit like Madame Tussauds) which was created in 1994 and comprises 17 lifelike scenes of the Saint’s life in Ars.

All credit to Jean-Marie Vianney but, so far as I am concerned that would have been it about Ars sur Formans except that, over a cup of coffee and a crepe in the Creperie des Dombes, I got talking to a visiting Irish American priest by the name of Father Edward Murphy. ‘Father Ted’ (I mean no disrespect) talked to me a little about the life of the Saint and explained how it was that this modest little cure came to be the Patron Saint of Priests and why more than 350,000 people now make a pilgrimage to this village every year. Father Ted’s enthusiasm and love for the cure prompted me to do some research and, I’ll not go into too much detail here (you can always google him yourself), but; yes, I can see why he is revered as the Patron Saint of Priests. It is said the priest “had the power of healing and to read the hearts of his penitents”. I don’t know about that but his drive, dedication and total commitment towards his congregation appears second to none. He believed that he could do penance for his parishioners and he lived his life that way. Within a few years of arriving in Ars, his fame had spread throughout France sufficient to attract 300 visitors a day to the parish and in 1858 an estimated 100,000 pilgrims flocked to Ars. Seems to me he proved to be a legend in his own lifetime.

Vanya doesn’t have the same interest in such matters as I do but, we were never going to keep her out of the villages only creperie…

Thanks again to Father Edward Murphy for making my visit to Ars sur Formans that bit more interesting… and safe travels.

Saint Remy de Provence (Provence-Alpes-Cote d’Azur), France October 2024 (Tour 10)

If there is one place in France I very much enjoy coming back to, it is Saint Remy de Provence. Every time we visit I marvel at the town. Surrounded by the most beautiful, rugged and unspoiled Alpilles countryside, it is so full of colour, character and historical interest and …and let’s not forget the food.

During recent visits I have tried repeatedly to gain entrance to the tiny 16th century Chapelle de Notre Dame de Pitie which sits near where Avenue Durand Maillane and Avenue Pasteur converge and; this time I succeeded although it was something of a bitter sweet moment.

The chapel was deconsecrated some years ago and left a ruin until at least 1985 when a local association, in conjunction with the town council, set about it’s restoration. It no longer serves as a church but is used to hold temporary exhibitions and one was underway as I arrived.

The sculptures on display were predominantly gilded steel and created by Philippe Lonzi (and he had no problem with me taking photos of his work). I think the paintings were by Christian Reale although Lonzi is also a painter.

Because we so often have the dogs with us as we explore, it’s rare that I am able to visit galleries and/or museums on these tours but; Vanya was caring for the dogs during our first afternoon back in Saint Remy and that meant I was also able to visit the Point Rouge Gallery on Rue Carnot in the centre of the old town.

The works of three different artists were on display during my visit and, hey, there were some really unusual and exciting creations. Amongst some impressive pieces by both Florence Vasseur (Painter) and Sylvie Mazereau (Painter and sculptor in ceramics and textiles), were some quite amazing life-size sculptures (mannequins?) by Anne Bothuon in cotton and cloth. It was actually embroidered wadding but ‘cotton and cloth’ has an altogether nicer ring about it. The creations were life-like but with a hint of caricature. Some appear a little freakish (extraordinary is perhaps a more apt word) but all are unique and a couple are quite sensational.

The exhibits in the Point Rouge Gallery formed part of the ‘Nature of Being Display’ organised by the owners Olivier Kaiser and Jean-Michel Warin. I spoke briefly with Olivier (who very kindly allowed me to take photos) and he explained that all the exhibits would be gone by the next morning. It seems that every 6 weeks or so, the owners change everything out, which allows them to showcase the art of a great many other favoured artists during the course of the year.

In addition to holding and displaying tons of interesting and exciting artefacts associated with Vincent Van Gogh the nearby Musee Estrine is renowned for displaying the work of contemporary artists so that, in line with Van Gogh’s wish, “living painters are no longer so unjustly ignored”. It occurs to me that the Point Rouge Gallery have adopted much the same philosophy. This is a gallery I will seek out again.

During this visit to Saint Remy, Vanya and I planned on stopping by Les Baux des Provence to experience the Vincent Van Gogh light and sound show at the Carrieres des Lumieres but, the Van Gogh display has been replaced by a new show (Egyptian Pharaohs) which simply didn’t appeal to either of us. Damn!

Instead, I walked along Avenue Vincent Van Gogh to the former Benedictine Monastere de Saint Paul de Mausol. This historic monastery turned asylum is renowned for a one time resident, Vincent Van Gogh, who admitted himself into the asylum for a year between 1889 and 1890. While there he produced some of his finest creations including ‘Starry Night’, ‘Irises’ and the ‘Olive Orchard’. I’d previously visited the area but never been inside the building itself.

Much of the monastery complex still functions as a psychiatric clinic but one wing serves as a small museum which reflects how Vincent Van Gogh lived during his stay and how other residents and some of the staff lived and/or worked. Also, in and around the museum there are markers identifying where Van Gogh will have sat while painting many of the 150+ creations he completed during his stay in the asylum. I spent a couple of hours wandering the building and surrounding gardens and found it absolutely fascinating. The place really is worth a visit.

Some of the care Van Gogh received in the asylum would have been primitive compared to that available in modern hospitals but, for it’s day, Saint Paul’s was one of the more advanced and caring hospitals. I’m fairly certain Van Gogh would not have been keen on the so called hydrotherapy treatment prescribed by his doctor (two hours of alternating hot and cold baths twice a week) but, for the most part, he didn’t lack for comfort compared to all other residents. Van Gogh’s brother, Theo, paid all fees associated with his stay in the asylum and that included three private rooms; one which served as Van Gogh’s living quarters, the second as an artist’s studio and the third to store his paintings.

After leaving Saint Paul’s, I hoped to revisit the oldmarchaeological site of Glanum but it was closed. I took a couple of photographs of the mausoleum and the triumphal arch which stand outside the northern gate of the old Roman city but then made my way back into town to find a decent restaurant for the evening.

I found and booked us into a delightful family run restaurant (a mother and daughter team) near the town centre – the Restaurant XA. Quintessentially French with a retro shabby chic decor, we were well received (dogs as well) and served some great food. Van went for the fish while I had a veal dish (i.e. proper veal not that awful substitute they seem to serve almost everywhere in the UK).

Once again, we thoroughly enjoyed Saint Remy. There’s no doubt we’ll return but now it is time to start north.

Alzonne (Occitanie), France October 2024 (Tour 10)

After a pleasant drive across what was once Cathar Country (passing the 16th century Fortress de Salses and the Salses Leucate Lakes near Fitou) we arrived at Camping L’Escale Occitane just 1 kilometre from Alzonne, a small village of some 1,600 people.

We were intent on revisiting Saint Remy de Provence but stopped off at Alzonne (Camping L’Escale Occitane) in the Aude Department of Occcitaine to meet up with some friends (Chris and Tessa) who live in nearby Fanjeaux. We spent a little time with them earlier in the year (Tour 9) and I promised them my Thai coriander curry when we next passed through.

The campsite proved to be an inspired choice. Set amongst a series of small vineyards, it’s a tiny pet friendly rural site of 16 pitches (8 of them intended for motorhomes) with excellent views towards the Pyrenees. It’s run by a very welcoming couple, Remy and Nadia. What surprised me most about the campsite was that despite it’s relatively small size, they run a very popular little restaurant. We didn’t get to try it because I’d promised to cook for Chris and Tessa but… next time.

Oh… and the campsite keep a decent range of local artisan beers. The Ciutat Blonde from Carcassonne was pretty good.

Chris and I shared a few of the beers before dinner (it was his birthday) and, while my curry wasn’t at it’s best (I didn’t add enough coriander), it could have been worse and, besides, the company of Chris and Tessa more than compensated for the shortcomings in the food.

There is one final point worth mentioning. Just down the road from the campsite is a small winery, going by the name of Chateau Sesquieres. It’s a very small affair run by Gerard Lagoutte but he produces a surprisingly wide range of very pleasant wines. Vanya and I popped in on the off chance he would be open and we struck lucky. He let us sample a few of his wines and we ended up buying a mixed case. We’ll be popping in again next time we are in the area.

Saint Remy next.

Canet en Roussilon (Occitanie), France October 2024 (Tour 10)

We were back in France at the small coastal town of Canet en Roussillon, to the east of Perpignan. We had moved north because of the impending bad weather in Spain and because Vanya wanted to chill for a few days at the ‘Le Brasilia’ campsite before it closed for winter. Le Brasilia is part of the Yelloh chain and with it’s five stars is one of the top campsites in the Languedoc Roussillon area, if not the whole of France. We have used Yelloh before and never been disappointed.

As for the town of Canet en Roussillon, it’s not for me. It’s divided into three very distinct parts being, the old town, the beach area and the marina.

I passed the marina on my way to the old town but there’s not much there other than some very beautiful (and expensive) sailing craft. There were a couple of absolutely gorgeous catamarans.

The old town of Canet en Roussillon is the most interesting part. It’s a small but busy little place with it’s two most prominent features being, the 14th century Church of Saint Jacques and a 14th century castle ruin known as the Viscount’s Castle (which was abandoned during the French Revolution). Both were closed during our visit but, to be fair, the holiday season here is almost over.

The beach area, a 2 kilometre walk from the old town, is a family holiday resort of mega proportions. In the holiday season it is all about swimming, sunbathing and water sports. Outside of the season, it is a massive empty Blue Flag Beach with numerous empty restaurant-bars souvenir shops – almost soulless. The irony is that I can’t imagine it being any better with crowds of people. The tourist website ‘FranceVoyage’ say everything you need to know about Canet en Roussillon when they conclude in their blog- “A slot machine arcade as well as restaurants, cafés and discos provide plenty of night-time entertainment”. Not for me, thanks.

Back to Le Brasilia. We’ve stayed at a few Yelloh sites during our travels (with the one at Chateau Lanniron near Quimper deserving special mention) and this one in Canet en Roussillon is as good as any we have stayed at not least because, even in low season, it continues to offer all the facilities normally available during high season (right up until the moment the site closed).

The chain prides itself on employing friendly helpful staff and this certainly proved the case all across this still lively 15 hectare site. I’ll not go into detail about all the facilities available at Le Brasilia (you can google that) but I should perhaps make special mention of the restaurant-bar which served a wide range of good, fairly priced food; the swimming pool complex with it’s selection of 5 different themed heated swimming pools (including a hydrotherapy pool) and; best of all, the facilities set aside for dogs which included dog runs, walking areas and a nearby dog friendly beach.

Nala and Beanie loved running around (hopping in Nala’s case) and playing on the large sandy beach (which meant Nala didn’t need her walking wheels and boots) although, Nala would be equally happy on a pebble beach where she can dive for the largest possible stones.

And in the evenings.. karaoke nights and a very competent Queen Tribute Band.

In the end we stayed for three nights until the campsite closed for winter (we were one of the last to check out) but if the place hadn’t been closing for winter, I think Vanya would have stayed on longer. The increasingly cold weather at night, however, reminded us that it would soon be time for us to return to the UK.

Footnote: I cannot imagine why (because I can see no similarity between the two towns) but Canet en Roussillon is twinned with Maynooth near where our son’s wedding was (and where we were just a few weeks ago). Now there’s a coincidence.

Cambrils (Catalonia), Spain October 2024 (Tour 10)

Cambrils doesn’t currently figure amongst my favourite places in Spain but it ticks a great many boxes and at other times in my life I could easily have ranked it higher.

Best of all is that it remains a working fishing port serving a wide selection of restaurants (including three Michelin Star restaurants) which have produced some of the best seafood I’ve ever tasted. Cambrils is quite rightly rated the gastronomical capital of Catalan. Second, it has some of the finest Blue Flag beaches on Spain’s Costa Dorada (Golden Coast). Indeed, it’s nine kilometres of coastline are characterised by a calm shallow sea with crystal clear water and wide golden beaches of fine sand. My favourite is Platja de La Llosa which is one of the quieter beaches just to the south of the harbour and behind the Cambrils’ town letters. It’s close to many of the better restaurants (more of that later) and to Cambril’s colourful little old town.

There’s a promenade which stretches the length of Cambrils’ beaches all the way to neighbouring Salou with it’s PortAventura Theme Park and Aquopolis Water Park and; those features would have ticked further boxes if we’d visited Cambrils with our children when they were younger. So too would the diverse range of water sports on offer on some of Cambril’s beaches but, sorry, these particular attractions no longer do anything for me.

For me, Cambrils greatest feature is it’s harbour and, of course, the seafood landed there. We last visited the town in 2022 and, at a small restaurant on the Passeig de les Palmeres, Vanya enjoyed what she described as the best meal of her life. It was a freshly made seafood paella. We were returning to Cambrils to eat at that same restaurant once again.

Previously we stayed in Camping La Llosa, to the south of the town centre. This time, for no other reason than that we wanted to see more of the other side of the town, we parked up at Camping Platja Cambrils. There’s little difference between the two campsites but Platja Cambrils does entail more walking.

My first priority was to check that Nala would be up for the walk into town in her walking wheels – no worries there. The second priority was to ensure our restaurant, the Braseria de Port, was still open for business and that we could get a table – again no worries. In fact, quite the reverse. The owner, Simon, was delighted that we would be returning to his restaurant in preference to La Bresca (a Michelin Recommended restaurant) and Can Bosch, the Rincon de Diego and the neighbouring Miramar (all of which hold a Michelin Star), to say nothing of the countless other restaurants nearby. Moreover he confirmed that he would be delighted to serve Vanya a single portion of Paella (restaurants here generally insist Paella dishes be made for a minimum two persons) and, best of all, advised he had retained the same kitchen staff and that Vanya could expect at least as good a dish as before. I reserved a table for 8pm, telephoned Vanya with details of the dining arrangements and set off to see if much in the town has changed since our last visit.

I mentioned at the outset that my interests in Cambrils are limited to the harbour and the seafood. Well, I walked miles around the town during what remained of the day, taking in three principal churches (Esglesia de Santa Maria, Eglesia de Sant Pere and the Santuari Mare de Deu del Cami), the town’s 17th century watchtower which is now a small history museum (Torre del Port) and the town’s tourist office – every one of which was closed! Even the Parque del Pescador was locked! To see so many places of interest closed on a weekday is disappointing and did nothing to raise my opinion of the town. I think the local council needs to intervene because the local tourist office seems to be doing very little to help market Cambrils and it’s attractions.

I’m not sure that I even like the statues here although during this visit I focused only on statues along the promenade. The town’s most celebrated sculpture on the promenade is a piece of modern art known as the Two Mermaids which, sadly, does nothing for me although I do respect it’s intent. It comprises two mermaids, three fishermen (carrying baskets of fish) and a small, seated youth by the name of Adrian. The work is a ceramic and steel construction erected in 2011 on the 100th anniversary of a great storm which saw 140 fishermen, many from Cambrils, killed out at sea. I’m told that “the fishermen represent the lost souls of those killed. One of the mermaids represents the storm while the other represents humanity. Little Adrian stands for hope for the future”. Of course there’s absolutely nothing in the area to explain this representation. A simple plaque would do. Where is the Ayuntamiento when it’s needed?

Notwithstanding the above, I very much enjoyed my time down at the harbour during the late afternoon, watching the fishing trawlers unload their catches and enjoying the subsequent auctions. It seems everyone enjoys the spirited spectacle that is a fishing auction (not that I could understand much that was being said) and it was with some difficulty that I tore myself away from the event to get ready for dinner. Bring on the fish!

Later in the day we strolled back along the promenade to the Braserie de Port. Simon was there to greet us and show us to our table and the food that followed (together with the service) was exceptional. We were offered a small range of fish starters to share and then Vanya chose a Lobster Paella for her main course while I opted for the Sole. A fine bottle of Alborino was served with the fish. The food experience was, as promised by Simon, every bit as good as before. Methinks we’ll be back.

Oh. I nearly forgot. Before leaving Cambrils we purchased a kilo of freshly cooked prawns (size 30-50) to enjoy back at the Van tomorrow…

Miravet (Catalonia), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

Our next overnight stop was Cambrils, a little over 20 miles to the north of Ametlla. That left plenty of time beforehand for us to visit the small village of Miravet some 30 miles east of Ametlla.

I had been told Miravet was a pretty enough village to warrant the short detour but; it was the castle’s history which most interested me. I knew it to have been the headquarters of the Knights Templar across Catalan and Aragon and one of the best preserved examples of a Cistercian-Romanesque Castle-Monastery in the whole of Spain. It was also one of the last holdouts of the Order after the Templars were abolished by the Catholic church. The castle was a must-see for me.

The route took us along the TV-3022 to the Mitravet Ferry Station where an old style ferry, a Pas de Barca, would take us across the River Ebro to the village itself. A Pas de Barca comprises two punts, topped with a wooden platform, which is linked to both banks of the river by a thick metal cable. The ferry operator makes use of the cable and the river’s current to propel the boat over the water. This type of transport was used all along the river until the 1960’s but only two remain in service, one being at the Miravet crossing.

We reached the Ferry Station to discover the ferry was out of service. There had been a lot of rain and the river was running too high and fast. We had to drive the long way around to Miravet via Mora d’Ebre but, honestly, having seen photos of the ferry at the crossing point, I wasn’t too disappointed. I cannot imagine such a small craft being able to safely carry a fully laden 7 metre motorhome across such a wide and fast flowing river (especially after Vanya had stocked the Van up with Cremant).

The diversion through Mora d’Ebre (Ebre is Catalan for Ebro) added just 20 minutes to the journey and we were soon parked up on a place reserved for motorhomes on the Partida Illetes just a short walk fom the village. The castle and village looked impressive from where we parked the Van but even more so from the small pier on the River Ebro.

A nearby tourist map helped us get our bearings and we were soon making our way up into the historic centre of Miravet. The narrow lanes of this old town cling to the side of a short but fairly steep 80 metre high hill to the castle. We didn’t expect Nala to make it all the way up in her walking wheels but we figured that if she could make it to the church we would get some reasonable views over the river before pausing for lunch. I would make my way up to the castle during the afternoon.

The Renaissance style church, the Esglesia Vella, was built by the Order of the Hospital of St John of Jerusalem (the Knights Hospitallers) during the 16th/17th centuries. It was built on the site of an old Almoravid Mosque; the Almoravid’s being a sect of fanatical Muslim monks. Much like Miravet Castle, the church has seen more than it’s fair share of troubles and I would very much liked to have gone inside to learn more about the building but it was closed.

I know it was badly battered during the Spanish War of Succession in the early 18th century and; again during the many Carlist Wars of the 19th century but; it was the damage caused to the building during the Spanish Civil War, when anti-clerical riots saw the church spoiled in 1936 and then bombed during the Battle of Ebro in 1938, which led to it being abandoned. The church was restored in the 1980’s but, having been deconsecrated, is now used only to house exhibitions and the odd civil wedding but there are, supposedly, many traces of it’s former glory to be seen inside the building.

Disappointed not to have got inside the church but buoyed at the thought of seeing the castle later in the day, we retraced our steps to the Platja de Miravet where a pop-up food bar (that’s what they call burger vans now lol) served burgers and small selection of tapas patatas. I’m not complaining; the Van served cold beers and hot patatas bravas.

After lunch I escorted Vanya (and the dogs) back to the Van and then set off back up the hill to the castle. I made it and the views were all that I expected them to be.

It’s the history of the castle which most impressed me. It was the Moors who first built a castle on this site because of it’s commanding position over the River Ebro. A village followed. Both the castle and the village were seized from the Moors in 1153 by the Knights Templar on behalf of King Ramon Berenguer IV of Catalonia and Aragon. He then gifted them to the Templars for services in the wars against the Moors and the Templars remodelled the castle into the imposing fortress it is today.

The Templars also encouraged the repopulation of the area by Christians but, on a bright note, tolerated those Moors who chose to continue living in Miravet. However, the writing was on the wall for Templars and Moravet Moors alike after the Templars were later outlawed by the French King Philip IV (he sought the Order’s riches) and abolished by his puppet Pope Clement V (for heresy and various other trumped up charges).

The Knights Templar went first; wiped out in a long and bloody war by Catholic armies and with many Templar prisoners later being burned alive at the stake as heretics. Miravet Castle was the last Templar castle to fall (early in the 14th century). It is said that six knights refused to surrender even after the castle capitulated and all six died in the castle’s tower trying to protect the Order’s archives. The Pope subsequently gifted the castle to the Knight’s Hospitaller. That’s the same Hospitallers which later built the Esglesia Vella church.

As for the Miravet Moors, they continued to be tolerated until about the time the Jews were expelled from Spain but only if they renounced Islam and converted to Catholicism. The majority of Moors did convert to but were later betrayed by the Catholic church and deported to Algeria.

It was time to move on. We were due in Cambrils.

L’Ametlla de Mar (Catalonia), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

Joy of joys! An unspoilt fishing village which has not given way to tourism.

I’m not sure what made us choose L’Ametlla de Mar for a 2 day stopover. I suspect it was because Vanya was seeking another stop on the coast over the weekend (i.e. Friday and Saturday night). Even out of season, almost every campsite on the coast in Spain (and especially France) fill up at weekends, such is the popularity of motor homing these days. Whatever, it was an inspired choice because we enjoyed L’Ametlla de Mar and the campsite so much we stayed on a third night.

Camping Nautic, together with it’s very good restaurant, is located at the northern edge of the town on the tiny Playa Pixavaques. That’s not a beach I would choose to swim in (it’s rocky with too many sea urchins and jellyfish) but it’s pretty and close enough to where our Van was parked for us to hear the waves lapping during the night. It is also the starting point of a seafront promenade which leads to the town’s principal swimming beach Platja de L’Alguer (a 5 minute walk) and on to the harbour (another 10 minutes). The old town sits immediately behind the promenade.

The coastline here comprises 20 kms of crystal clear waters and beautiful unspoiled coves and beaches backed by a series of low cliffs and pine forests. Many of the small coves and beaches here are without names although there are 5 Blue Flag beaches in the immediate area. There are excellent coastal walks both to the north and south. Indeed, the GR92 Mediterranean Path runs along the entire Costa Dorada and beyond. The walk south from L’Ametlla de Mar to L’Ampolla was recommended to me but I didn’t have time and had to content myself with the much shorter walk north from Playa Pixavaques to the pebble beach of Platja de L’Estany Tort. It was delightful and I had it completely to myself.

Back to L’Ametlla de Mar. A walk down to the port area in L’Ametlla de Mar is a must. It’s inevitable that tourism will edge it’s way into the town but, for the moment it is first and foremost a fishing port and where better to experience that than down at the harbour, Port de l’Ametlla de Mar.

Most of the harbour is given over to working boats. There are leisure craft in the harbour but relatively few compared to the fishing fleet. Throughout the day, fishing boats of all shapes and sizes were making their way in and out of the port and some it seemed were destined for quite extended trips if the small crowds which had gathered on the quayside to wave them off was anything to go by. My favourite time is late afternoon, watching the more local element of the town’s fishing fleet unload their catch and auction it off in lots. Many of the fishermen then repaired to the port bar and started spending their hard earned pay in a very loud and raucous manner. I had a drink in the port bar on just the one occasion and, believe me, it was loud in there.

The old town is built around a hill and looks down on the harbour. During our first day in L’Ametlla I spent a fair time wandering both the harbour area and the old town looking for a decent restaurant for the evening. There’s no shortage of restaurants and bars but I prefer those at the top of the town. They proved better value. Our favourites are up on the Placa Nova – a very welcoming tapas bar which goes by the name of Bar Pica Pica (and which fast became our local) and the Restaurant Placa Nova which served us a fine meal of deep fried baby monk fish followed by a seafood paella for Vanya and a cheese & octupus stew for me. Delicious!

Needless to say I visited the town’s primary church, L’Esglesia de la Mare de Deu de la Candelera on Carrer Jaume Balmas but, having been completed in the 1960’s, it’s a fairly modern church and doesn’t have the same character as so many others. i’ll say no more about the church.

It is the unusual street art in the town that I found most attractive. They are colourful murals with a marine focus which fill the whole sides of buildings in the town centre area. I found eight wonderful creations but there may well be more further afield.

Just one other item – the Tuna Tours. We’d seen posters advertising tuna tours and just ignored them. It was only on our last night in L’Ametlla that one of the staff at the Pica Pica told us about these particular tours. She made them sound so exciting. It seems that for 55 Euros per person in the high season and 45 Euros in the low season you can sail on a modern two deck catamaran some 5 kilometres to and from the Bluefin Tuna pools of Balfego where you will learn about the Balfego Tuna, swim with them and then eat some at a nearby restaurant. Apparently, this excursion is “an adventure, an education and a gastronomic experience all wrapped up in one”. Now I don’t know much about Balfego Tuna but the waitress described the experience as a really spectacular day out not least because the tuna you are swimming with can grow up to 3 metres in length and weigh up to 600 kilos. That is top of our list of things to do when we return to L’Ametlla and; hopefully, that will be sometime next year. I hope I can still fit into my wet suit.

It’s Cambrils tomorrow but we’ll be stopping at Miravet on the way.

Xilxes (Valencia), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

Our next stop was to be Xilxes (pronounced Chilches in Spanish), some 38 kilometres north of Valencia City. Vanya wanted to be by the Mediterranean again.

Xilxes is a town not unlike Marseillan in France where there’s both a beach resort and a separate urban centre which are some way apart – 5 kilometres in the case of Marseillan, just over 3 kilometres in Xilxes. In fact, we were camped up at the very southern end of Xilxes which translates into almost a 5 kilometre walk to the town. That’s a round trip of more than 6 miles even without allowing anything for a wander around the town.

We’d arrived too late in the afternoon for me to want to walk into town that day and so we settled on the stone beach of Playa de El Cerezo. Beanie and especially Nala (who has always loved digging large stones out of the sea) were in their element and I think Vanya was too.

There are at least two other beaches to the north of the El Cerezo (the Playa de Xilxes and the Playa Les Cases) and they are also stone beaches except that they are covered in sand during spring and summer. When Vanya and the dogs were finished playing, I took a stroll along the beach towards the centre of Xilxes Beach Resort.

It was late September but even at 30 degrees celcius the beaches were quiet. I suspect it is much the same even in high summer. The seafront is entirely pedestrianised and the 1.5 kilometre promenade is backed almost entirely by residential properties (summer houses?). It is only at the centre of the resort, near the Monument Pescador de Rall, that there are any bars or restaurants. Most of the bars were still open but there were few customers. Ours was a lazy first day in Xilxes.

The next morning, I was ready to walk to the urban centre of Xilxes and decided to forge a path across La Marjal (the wetlands which separate the town centre from the seaside resort). That was a mistake and I had to retrace my steps and start again. I succeeded only in adding 3 miles to an already lengthy walk.

Having said that, there was much to appreciate about the walk. I didn’t realise how rich an agricultural area this part of Spain is. Valencia is rightly famous for it’s tangy oranges and I passed plenty of orange trees at the edge of La Marjal. There were also many fig trees and olive groves and some locally grown melons which figure amongst the best I have ever tasted. What surprised me most, however, were the large fields of rice. Despite knowing that Paella was created in Valencia it didn’t occur to me that it’s most essential ingredient, rice, could be grown locally (or anywhere in Europe for that matter). Indeed, the wetlands in this area are flooded every spring and summer that the rice may be cultivated here.

In the end I approached the town by way of the Carretera Vell de la Mar and then the Calle del Rafol. I cannot remember how long the walk took but, upon arrival, I was more than ready for a sparkling water and a cold beer and immediately headed for Bar Felix on the Avinguda de Jaume I. Why there? Because it was a hot day and I’d googled the wherabouts of the nearest bar.

A boat (the Cruz del Sur) was parked on a roundabout at the entrance to the town but that wasn’t the strangest thing about the place. The streets were mostly empty; many streets were blocked off; there were cages everywhere and; metal grills were being fitted in front of doors and windows – some were fitted to the front of Bar Felix but I could fit through them (just!).

I ordered my water and my beer and then it dawned on me. There was to be some bull running in Xilxes! Streets were blocked so that the bull(s) could be channeled around the town. The windows and doors along the desired route were barred so as to deny the bull(s) access into people’s homes. Finally, the cages were for people to take shelter in if or when threatened by the bull(s).

Before anyone jumps to the wrong conclusion, bull running is not cruel and it isn’t to be confused with bull fighting (about which I have strong doubts). With bull running, the bull(s) has to be moved from A to B but he is not to be pulled, prodded or shoved in any way. Indeed, nobody is permitted to touch the bull or even make excessive noise which could trouble the bull. The runners can only induce the bull to follow them to the desired location by attracting it’s attention and then moving faster in that direction than the bull.

Bull running has it’s roots in days of yore when farmers had to get the bulls to market and young men would race the bulls to the pens. Over time it grew into a competition and was seen by some as a kind of initiation rite for young men transitioning to adulthood. Whatever, it’s not easy; trust me.

Having established that the event was scheduled for early evening (once the townsfolk finished work and when it would be much cooler) and having picked up some supplies from the local supermarket, I hastened back to Vanya to enquire as to whether or not she would be interested in watching the bull running later in the day. It couldn’t happen. With half the town’s streets closed off, there was absolutely no parking available in the town (least of all for a 7 metre van) and; neither Vanya nor the dogs would be able to walk to and from the town (especially Nala in her walking wheels) even assuming that dogs would be allowed near the event. I made the return journey to Xilxes on my own.

Crowds were gathering as I arrived back in the town. The whole town and much of the surrounding area were keen to enjoy the event (mostly from viewing platforms on top of the cages). There was a real carnival atmosphere about the place.

… I’ve never seen an animal of such size move so quickly and with such agility. I was filming and didn’t notice that the bull had changed direction towards me. I took some pretty good video and the above is a screenshot from that video as the animal turned. In hindsight, it was rather stupid of me to start filming such a beast from out on the street – but it was very exciting.

A second bull was scheduled to run once the first bull had completed the course but; the first bull simply wouldn’t co-operate and there’s little one can do with a 700 kg bull when it gets… well, bullheaded. Indeed, for a while it kept coming back to me and it took the runners and event organisers a good hour to move it through the town. I cannot speak for the second bull, which beast never got it’s turn to charge through the town, but the attitude of the crowd seemed to be one of “No matter, there will be another such event next year and we’ll wait until then for the next bull run” – after all, this kind of thing has been going on for hundreds of years.

I did get to see a little of the urban centre of Xilxes (the Plaza de Espana, the 17th century church and the La Union Fountain) but, being on the bull running route, they were all covered in iron bars. Never mind. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.