Tag: Catalonia

From the Cap de Creus we thought to chase the sunshine, most of which seemed to be well south of Madrid. Toledo looked a good choice but we’d not rush there because the weather forecasts seemed to be changing every day. Our next stop was to be an old favourite, the Nautica Campsite in L’Ametlla de Mar. However, with one thing and another, we were late getting away and so paused for the night at another small town on our way to L’Ametlla called Palamos.

Palamos competes with L’Ametlla de Mar in claiming to be one of the few remaining authentic fishing towns on the Catalonian coast (it certainly has the largest fishing fleet on the Costa Brava) but, I was very disappointed with the place. It appeared to me more like a beach resort (albeit a nice beach resort) and I reported as much on my facebook entry for that day. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

From what I’ve read since, I missed a few things in Palamos which could have caused me to think differently had I seen them. It was an impromptu decision to overnight in Palamos and, in my defence, we were running late but; had I properly researched the place before charging off into the town for a look-see, I think my facebook entry would have been considerably more positive. Sorry Palamos.

I won’t bore you with the detail as to how I went wrong. It will suffice to say that I ended up chasing my own tail and missed much of the town. I don’t know how but, I failed to find the historic old with it’s narrow cobbled streets and small squares and, of course, it’s many restaurants selling the famous Palamos Prawn. For future reference, the old town is situated behind the town’s main beach (the Platje Gran de Palamos) which I thought was nothing but a residential area. Of course I found the harbour, walked the length of the town’s very long mole and noticed the Fishing Museum but didn’t go in and so missed out on a free cooking lesson – entrance is free on the first Sunday of every month! And finally, because I’m getting increasingly embarrassed now, I found a tiny but very tidy, sandy beach to the north of the town (complete with a ruined castle) known as the Platje de la Fosca but; had I continued northwards, beyond the ruined castle, I would have come upon an even prettier beach (the Platje de Castella) and, beyond that, the not to be missed tiny Fishermen’s Hamlet of Cala S’Alguer. I could go on but… spare me!

We will return and next time, I’ll not miss out on the old town, restaurants selling Palamos Prawns, the Platje de Castella, the Sant Esteve de Mar Castle and, especially Cala S’Alguer. Neither will I overlook the 15th century church of Santa Maria, the Mirador del Pedro, the Emporda DO wine route (to say nothing of the celebrated Camino de Ronda – especially the 11 kilometre stretch between Palamos and Calella de Palafrugall). I suspect there is more that I missed but that will do for now.

Of all the places along Spain’s eastern coastline, the one I have most wanted to see is the Cap de Creus and now, I’ve seen it.

We drove to Cadaques for a couple of days and that allowed me one full day to wander the Cap de Creus. The Cap de Creus is a nature park and marine reserve which opened in 1996 and almost fills a small peninsula on the north coast of Catalonia. At it’s western end it stretches between the two small resort towns of El Port de la Selva in the north and Roses in the south. It’s most easterly point is the Far del Cap de Creus (lighthouse) which also happens to be the most easterly point of the whole Iberian Peninsula.

It is truly beautiful and makes for some great walking but, it is not the wild and remote nature park that some blog writers would have you believe. It covers less than 17,000 hectares of land and sea; is criss-crossed with numerous well marked paths and; can be walked from one end to the other in just a few hours. That is positively tiny when compared with, say, the Cairngorms National Park which totals 452,800 hectares of often rough and very demanding mountainous terrain. There’s a road (the Gi 614) which connects El Port de la Selva and Roses with the lighthouse and; it is a 20 minute drive from Roses to the lighthouse, with tourist buses plying that route in the high season. Oh, and at the Far del Cap de Creus there’s a large car park, a restaurant with limited overnight accommodation, a cafe-bar and an esplanade offering wonderful views out to sea. No, there’s very little about the Cap de Creus that is wild and remote but don’t let that stop you visiting the place. It does have some spectacular scenery.

My walk to the lighthouse began from the Wecamp Campsite in Cadaques. You must follow the road to start with. It leads past the Hermitage of San Baldiri and on to Salvador Dali’s old house in PortLligat but after PortLligat you can leave the road and follow a series of coastal trails all the way to the lighthouse. The one I took takes you along past the pretty beaches of S’Alqueria Gran and S’Alqueria Petite and then around the even prettier beaches of the Badia Guillola. It’s not hard walking (young children can easily handle the trail) but gradually the beaches give way to a more rugged landscape. There are very few trees; it is more scrub vegetation than anything but the lack of trees facilitates sweeping views along an increasingly jagged coastline of small cliffs, rocky coves and tiny islands. The sea is crystal clear.

I knew I was close to the lighthouse when I started seeing small groups of people. I’d not seen a single person during the 2 hours or so that I had been walking and taking photographs but there were plenty of people milling around the lighthouse. There were a dozen or so boats moored in the cove to the south of the lighthouse and a coach (probably from Roses) pulled up as I reached the cafe-bar. My first priority was a couple of cold beers and I promise you the first one didn’t touch the sides of my throat – I drank it so quickly.

The lighthouse was built in 1853 and is the second oldest in Spain. It’s a rather average looking lighthouse and there’s little else I can say about it except that it featured in the 1971 film ‘Lighthouse At The End Of The World’, starring Kirk Douglas and Yul Brynner. No, I’ve never heard of the film either.

There’s a track near the lighthouse which leads down to the ‘Cova del Infern’ (the Cave of Hell). It’s a tunnel eroded by the sea and best viewed, I suspect, by boat. I didn’t bother with it. I didn’t bother with the unusual looking restaurant either (there were too many people there, queuing to get in) but I subsequently discovered that the restaurant is a converted police barracks. After taking a obligatory photos of the various buildings, I set off to explore the coastline to the north of the lighthouse.

I think the coastline to the north of the peninsula (especially around the Pareja de Tudela) is, by a long way, the most interesting. There’s more exposed lava rock to the north of the lighthouse and the artea is considerably more rugged. Erosion caused by the sea and, in all likelihood, the tramuntana winds which blow down from the Pyrenees has made this part of the cape nothing less than fascinating. This is an area that intrigued Salvador Dali. He often walked the area, seemingly obsessed with the strange rock formations with names like the Camel, the Eagle and the Rabbit and; it is said that at least one of his paintings, ‘The Great Masturbator’ was inspired by one or more of these rock formations.

I’ll end this blog with one more anecdote about the Pareja de Tudela area and then leave you with my favourite photo from the area to the north of the lighthouse.

I’ll finish this blog entry with one more anecdote about the Pareja de Tudela area. Between 1964 and 2004, this part of the coastline was owned by Club Med and they built a huge and very successful holiday complex here. There’s very little left of it now. After the Spanish government decided the peninsula was to become a national park and marine reserve, Club Med were on notice to leave. Once the complex was closed, a decision was made to totally dismantle it and; in 2009 some 430 buildings were levelled and removed. Even garden flowers planted by Club Med were uprooted and disposed of if they were not indigenous to the area. Wonderful.

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… they cost us pennies!

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.

We’d journeyed from Germany, through Switzerland and France, to Spain to escape the constant rain which seems to have been a feature of Northern Europe this last year. That was a good decision with the weather in Sitges (Catalonia) proving fine and the forecasts in Galicia and Asturias, in the far north west, looking even better. We decided to make our way to Galicia next (provided the weather stayed fine) by way of Aragon, Navarra, La Rioja and Castilla y Leon. Our next overnight stay would be in the small Aragonese village of Mequinenza, a 2.5 hour drive west.

We were almost halfway to Mequinenza when, looking for a place to stop for lunch, we discovered the small fortress town of Montblanc at the edge of the Prades Mountains. The town was founded by Alfonso I of Barcelona (Alfonso the Chaste) during the 12th century to protect the road between Lleida and Tarragona and it clearly prospered; as is evidenced by it’s huge church and various other impressive buildings. I don’t understand how I could have previously overlooked such an interesting place. It really is a hidden gem.

I parked just outside the medieval town walls close to the Convent de la Serra (on Paseo Josep Conangla) to take a quick look at the large church near the top of the town. There’s a sizeable flat topped mound just inside the town walls which provides views over the city and towards the Prades Mountains although the view of the back of the church (the Iglesia Santa Maria La Mayor) is less than impressive and for a moment I was tempted to return to the Van. I’m so glad I didn’t.

When I say ‘less than impressive’, I actually mean ‘odd’. It’s a mishmash of styles and, well, on the outside at least has a wholly peculiar appearance. The back of the church can be counted amongst the least attractive of any church I have seen. This can be explained in that it started life as a small Romanesque church dedicated to Santa Maria and as it’s congregation grew, work began on a Gothic style expansion. This expansion was frustrated by the Black Death (the Plague) which devastated the town in terms of the population and money with which to finish the church and so one side of the church was simply bricked up without any ornamentation. When work resumed in the 17th century an ornate Baroque facade replaced much of the Gothic facade, which had never been finished because of the Plague and had also been damaged during the Reapers War, leaving us with the most confused architectural structure which is now the Iglesia de Santa Maria La Mayor de Montblanc.

Don’t misunderstand me. The church still has much going for it. It just looks less than impressive from the back. The front of the church, with it’s Baroque style facade with Renaissance influences, is stunning. It also has some beautiful chapels (another sign of the town’s previous affluence) and a bell tower which it is possible to ascend.

I said bell-tower but it is not a tower as such. You actually climb stairs to a roof terrace where a half dozen or so bells are situated. Timing is everything and as I was climbing the stairs, the bells chimed for 11am. Let me tell you, they were loud.

I had stayed too long in the church already but had to see a little more of the town before returning to the Van for lunch which Vanya was preparing (had long finished preparing) and; I might as well get hung for a sheep as a lamb. No, it was a cold lunch and I was okay for a while yet. Thank goodness for cellular phones.

Montblanc’s old town centre is enclosed in some of the best preserved medieval castle walls to be seen anywhere in Spain and the narrow cobbled streets I followed on my way to the main square proved much the same. Higher buildings than is normal for such a rural part of the Region provided yet another example of the town’s previous wealth and, given how hot the day had already become, made for refreshingly cool streets.

There were a surprising number of people out and about; both on the streets, where local women were chatting excitedly with friends or neighbours they had chanced upon while on their way home from whatever it was they were doing and; in the Placa Mayor, where local men (their husbands?) were drinking beer and arguing and laughing loudly together. It was that happy, cheerful time of the day shortly before the afternoon siesta begins and after which the town centre would suddenly and quickly empty. I’m not trying to typecast men and women with that description but, the whole scene simply took me back to my childhood in Cyprus and Kenya where much the same scenes were played out almost every day before us kids were sent off for an afternoon nap. I really hated that time of the day.

It was time to get back to the Van. The return journey took me back past the church.

This was only a short stop but it proved a pleasant surprise and I would gladly revisit Montblanc. Also there is a World Heritage Site, the Monastir de Poblet, just 9 kilometres down the road that could be worth visiting.

Oh, and I don’t think I mentioned that according to local legend, Sant Jordi (Saint George) killed his dragon in Montblanc. It’s known as The Golden Legend in Catalonia. I reproduce below what I read about it:-

It seems that “Saint George was travelling on horseback when he came to Montblanc, which at that time was being terrorized by a large dragon. In order to appease the dragon the townspeople had started to feed it 2 sheep each day. When sheep weren’t enough they were replaced by human sacrifices. The king decreed that the person to be sacrificed should be chosen at random. Finally the day came that the king’s beautiful daughter was chosen for sacrifice.

The king tried to bargain with the townspeople but they insisted that the princess should be sacrificed as their children had been. Dressed as a bride, the princess was led to the dragon’s lair when, by chance, Saint George arrived at the town. St George asked the princess what was happening and she told him about the dragon and asked him to leave before he was hurt. Instead of leaving the princess to be eaten, St George fought and slayed the dragon.”

Clearly the people of Montblanc believe this legend because every year during April the town stages a week long Medieval Fair which includes a medieval feast, jousting tournaments, a correfoc and a re-enactment of the legend of Sant Jordi. That would be fun.

Anyway, on to Mequinenza.

I was last in Sitges some 20 years ago for a conference with my then employers (Amec) and, from what little I saw of the town at that time, I liked the place. It was always going to be interesting to see how much the town has changed over the years and during this visit I would get two chances to check the town out; the first would be during the day on my own and the second in the evening with Vanya and our two dogs.

The day started with me walking some 15 minutes or so past the golf course and through a very pleasant residential part of the town to one of Sitges’ beaches, the Platja de Terramar. There I joined the wide palm lined promenade (the Passeig Maritim) and headed east for a further 15 minutes to the 17th century Eglesia de Sant Bartomeu i Santa Tecla (that’s Catalan for the Church of Saint Bartholomew and Saint Tecla). This route took me past what is often called the Platja de Sitges but it is in fact a series of 7 different beaches (each separated by groins); the Platje de Terramar, the Platja de la Barra, the Riera Xica, L’Estanyol, the Bassa Rodona, la Ribera and finally the tiny Platja de la Fragata. There are three more beaches to the east of the church which lead all the way to the harbour (the Platja Sant Sebastia, the Platja dels Balmins and finally the Platja Aiguadolc) but I decided to leave these beaches to a later visit. For information only, I found out later that there are a few nudist beaches in Sitges and one of them is on the Platja dels Balmins.

The beaches I saw during the walk are all blue flag clean and mostly sandy. They are as good as any to be seen in this part of Spain and at this time of the year are mostly empty. The busier ones, complete with street hawkers selling fake designer handbags and trainers, are at the church end of the Passeig Maritim where most of the restaurant-bars and, of course, the old town are located. Given it is mid September, I was surprised at how busy the bars are but; perhaps I shouldn’t have been with Ryan Air currently flying into Girona from Belfast, Cork and Dublin for as little as £40 return. There were probably more Irish in Sitges during our visit than any other nationalty.

The Church of St Bartholomew and Saint Tecla is Sitges’ most recognisable landmark; so much so it is known locally as La Punta – the Point. The church was closed during my previous visit and it was the same again this time. It’s shame, if only because the views from any one of the bell tower or the clock tower will, I think, be exceptional. I read that the local museum used to run tours of the church which includes an ascent of the bell tower but I don’t know if that is still the case.

While the vistas from the nearby ‘Palau de Maricel’ (the Maricel Palace) don’t quite match those of the church, they do afford some fine views over the Mediterranean; especially from the rooftop terrace and cloisters. The ‘Palace’, by the way, is the ‘must see’ place in Sitges. Built between 1910 and 1918 by artist and engineer Miguel Utrillo at the behest of US tycoon Charles Deering (of the Combined Harvester Family), it was part of a complex which would become home to Deering and serve to showcase his growing art collection. It didn’t last. The two men fell out in 1921 over certain financial irregularities and Deering closed everything down and moved back to the United States. Much of the complex was subsequently dismantled and sold off piecemeal with the City of Sitges buying the current ‘Palace’ in 1954. Inside and outside it is quite spectacular…

After exploring La Punta, I started back along the Promenade but only as far as the ‘A Facundo Bacardi’ monument (Bacardi being someone born in Sitges who emigrated to Cuba and then created the well known white rum which bears his name) and then turned deeper into the old town of Sitges by way of Carrer Primer de Maig. Sitges’ old town isn’t as large as many others (especially having regard to the size of the city – it has a population of about 30,000) but it is equally charming.

The wholly pedestrianised Carrer Primer de Maig de 1838, also known as Carrer del Pecat (Sin Street in English) is one of a handful of streets at the heart of Sitges’ nightlife. The street is not as bad as the sobriquet suggests (well, not before midnight anyway) and during the day it really is a most unassuming street that you could safely take the most prudish grandmother down.

Having said that, I’m uncomfortable with those hotels which openly declare they are open only to gay couples. Sitges has long been a truly cosmopolitan city where everyone is welcome irrespective of their gender or sexual proclivity and I recognise that the LGBTQ community has lent the city a great deal of spirit and colour but if this isn’t discrimination, it is certainly boorish behaviour and to be censured.

Rant over. Back to the visit. I wandered much of Sitges old town for a while longer and then stopped for a quick beer in one of the backstreet bars before making my way back along the Passeig Maritim to collect Vanya and our dogs for the evening sortie into the city.

There are definitely two sides to Sitges. Day and night in the town are as different as chalk and cheese and, well, as different as day and night. The days, at least in the closed season, are mostly quiet, slow and relaxed. It is as much about lazing on the beach or strolling the promenade as anything. Yes, there is the odd juvenile boozer who seems to have confused Sitges with Ayia Napa but, fortunately, such types rarely have the capacity to last.

Then there’s nighttime. We stayed only until midnight but saw enough to recognise that the city is transformed at night. There’s a wide variety of bars and restaurants (with cocktail bars presiding) and there are also numerous nightclubs, most of which stay open well into the early hours of the morning. Of course the nightclubs are dominated by the gay community but, so far as I am aware, they are generally open to all and they are great fun.

For our part, Vanya and I were happy enough sitting on a terrace outside a bar in the old part of the city; enjoying a bottle of wine, people watching and soaking up the atmosphere of what is clearly a very vibrant city. We found a place to eat right in the centre where the Carrer Primer de Maig meets the Carrer del Marques Monttroig and is crossed by the Carrer de Joan Tarrida. I’d recognise it again by it’s colourful umbrellas and by the way the seats of all the chairs outside the different restaurants are pointed towards the centre of the crossroads This wholly pedestrianised area was a hive of activity all the time we were there and a fun place to be. We would have been quite happy sitting there eating our good (albeit expensive) tapas and watching the world go by but our evening was further enhanced by a young acrobatic troop of dancers who entertained us at the crossroads for over an hour.

It strikes me there’s an open, accepting and more relaxed atmosphere about Sitges at night. It’s comfortable. I think perhaps the good humour of so many people intent on enjoying themselves has a healthy, positive effect on others. It’s nice to think so.

Of course it may be different during the early hours of the morning, once the nightclubs are in full sway. We were not going to find out this trip. We had our dogs with us and so could not take advantage of the nightclub scene even if we wanted too but; there was time enough for one last leisurely stroll around the quieter parts of the city and that last half hour wandering the silent empty places, away from the busy cheerful bars and clubs, was as enchanting as anything we had experienced in Sitges. A couple of the following photos perhaps reflect that?

And there’s always time for Beanie pictures…

North in the morning but we’ll return to Sitges.

It was an hour’s drive to the small town of Llanca on Spain’s Costa Brava. We were to stay a couple of nights and then cross the border into France to meet some friends who live in the Aude Department of Occitanie.

Together with nearby Cadaques and Roses, Llanca was a tiny fishing village until tourism took over. With 5,000 inhabitants it has doubled in size over the last fifty years but, although it lives in the shadows of Cadaques and Roses, it is a beautiful and picturesque little town with many attractive beaches.

After parking the Van at Camping L’Ombra I set off to Llanca’s old town.

There is little left of Llanca’s erstwhile medieval centre, the town having suffered considerable bombing during the Spanish Civil War but, what remains is concentrated around the Placa Major – that’s the 18th century Parish Church (Parroquia Catolica de Sant Vicenc), the tower of an earlier 14th century church, the remaining tower and some of the walls of the 14th century Abbot’s Castle-Palace (the Torre de l’Homenatge) and the ‘Tree of Liberty’ planted in 1870.

There is also a bar with tables set underneath the huge Plane tree which is the Tree of Liberty and I found time to sit there with a beer to both reflect on what I had seen and plan the rest of my route around Llanca.

After a further short wander around the old town and then the port, I made my way back to Camping L’Ombra. The dogs wanted walking and Vanya and I needed feeding.

I mentioned perviously that this part of the Catalan coast is renowned for it’s food (see last years post on Roses) and we weren’t disappointed with the food served to us at a bar-restaurant named ‘El Floc’, which in Catalan means ‘the flake’. A lady we spoke to down at the port had recommended El Floc for it’s food, service and ambience and she was right on all counts.

El Floc is a modern, clean and very popular restaurant on Avenida Pau Casals. It was busy as we arrived but we secured the last empty table on the terrace at the front of the restaurant and, over the next couple of hours, enjoyed a really pleasant late lunch. The food wasn’t cheap but it was good value, being very tasty and beautifully presented. My starter, Scallops with a Trumpets of Death Parmentier, was outstanding and as for Vanya’s dessert of Strawberry Soup… she adored it.

The next day I set off to explore some of the beaches around Llanca. First I headed south from Llanca in the direction of El Port de la Selva to the beach at Cap de Bol. I enjoyed the walk and would have continued on beyond El Port de la Selva to Cadaques but there was insufficient time. Instead I retraced my steps to Llanca and then walked north along the coast taking in the beaches of Platja del Port, Platja de L’Argilera, Platja de San Jordi, Platja de L’Alguer, Platja Sota del Parador and Platja de Grifeu. There are some 23 different beaches in the vicinity of Llanca and they vary enormously but all have something about them.

The Platja del Port is the largest of the beaches visited during the course of the day, measuring some 425 metres (by 30 metres) between Llanca’s port area and the mouth of the River Valleta. Unsurprisingly, the Port Beach is the busiest of all those in the area and it is lined with bars, restaurants and shops. The sand is coarse but, like the water in this area, it is very clean; so much so that the beach has been awarded a Blue Flag. Further north, the smaller Platja de Grifeu with it’s fine sandy beach also has a Blue Flag and it is my favourite. I sat for an hour outside one of the two bars on the Grifeu just sipping beer and chilling. Most of these beaches are small and are to be found in inviting, unspoilt little coves with crystal clear water and mountain backdrops.

One beach that I didn’t reach but will visit in the future is to be found at the remote pocket sized cove of Cala Bramant, some two miles north of Llanca. Platja Bramant is a small pebble beach with a narrow opening to the sea. It’s crystal clear water offers interesting snorkelling and is best visited in the morning when the tide is high and the beach is quieter.

Reading back that which I have written so far it perhaps appears I have been rather restrained with my thoughts regarding Llanca. Let me explain. The facts are that (i) Catalonia, especially in the north, has many pretty coastal resorts and I cannot, in all honesty, rank Llanca amongst the best and (ii) many of the Region’s towns have considerably larger and more interesting medieval quarters whereas; little remains of Llanca’s old town (not least because of damage caused to the town during the Carlist Wars and the Spanish Civil War) and (iii) as good as the food is in Llanca (and with apologies to El Floc and Els Pescadors), Llanca is a small town with nowhere near enough restaurants to compete with the likes of Barcelona, Blanes, Casamar, Miramar or either of Roses or Cadaques (where Michelin Stars abound). Nevertheless, I like Llanca and I will definitely return to the town.

Out of season, and this is a real plus, Llanca is nowhere near as crowded with tourists as the other towns I have mentioned in this post. Moreover, it offers an almost perfect balance in terms of things to do being (i) it’s proximity to other interesting towns and villages in Catalonia and (ii) it’s walking and/or hiking opportunities along the rugged and rocky coastline of the Costa Brava* and (iii) it’s many and varied beautiful beaches** and (iv) it’s wonderfully fresh food and drink and (v) the warm and inviting welcome afforded by the locals. Best of all, it is a great place to chill.

FOOTNOTES to Llanca Blog:-

* Coastline Catalonia has more than 500 kilometres of wonderfully rugged and rocky coastline, 160 kilometres of which form the Costa Brava and include the Camino de Ronda (and not forgetting the GR 92 which connects Porbou on the French Border with the Pont de L’Olivar where Catalonia meets Valencia). The well maintained coastal paths around Llanca provide for a range of spectacular sights (soaring sea cliffs and impressive rock formations, headlands with scenic panoramas, sheltered bays and shady forests, etc).

** Beaches There are 100+ beaches and coves on the Costa Blanca alone, 32 of them with Blue Flags. Many have all the facilities one would expect of seaside resort (restaurants, bars, deckchairs and showers, etc) while others are hidden and often deserted). The beaches and coves around Llanca are a stunning mix of gently sloping golden sands and sheltered rocky coves, all with clear calm sparkling water. I was going to include ‘warm’ in that description but no… not in June. Not while I was there.

And so to France…