As we moved along the A9 in France towards Spain it started to rain (albeit lightly) and the cloud cover over the Pyrenees increased but, no problem, almost as soon as we crossed the border the skies began to brighten. It wasn’t yet sunny but it bode well.
The clouds over the Pyrenees were more atmospheric than ominous
By the time we reached L’Estartit on the Catalan coast we had completed almost 1,000 miles in the Van since leaving Brighton and we were beginning to feel very good about the weather. All of the forecasts that we checked promised sunshine for the next week (especially if we were to continue south).
L’Estartit, like so many places on the Catalan coast, is a holiday resort primarily for the Spanish. There’s not so much of the lurid, ‘kiss me quick’ trash that is to be found on the Costas further south in Spain but neither is there much left of the old picturesque fishing ports that used to dot this coast. Fishing and the associated cottage industries have given way almost entirely to tourism and, in winter, the small towns and villages on this coast are now almost empty; with many of the hotels closed and countless villas and apartments (now second homes and holiday lets) all boarded up.
L’Estartit is no different to the other places. I walked almost the whole of the town during the late afternoon and early evening to find that most houses and apartments are locked and shuttered and not a single restaurant was open (or likely to open). I found just two cafe/bars and a kebab takeaway open and none of those three places were particularly inviting. A local I spoke to confirmed that only one or two restaurants in the town ever opens in winter and that is usually at weekends.
For all that, I did enjoy my walk around the town. L’Estartit has some nice cliffs to the north of the town, an interesting island protecting the harbour, a very nice beach front and a smart fair sized marina (especially given the size of the town). I suspect that a significant number of L’Estartit’s summer hordes arrive by boat.
That’s a decent sized marina for such a small town
Leaving Montagut we headed off towards La Seu d’Urgell in the Catalonian Pyrenees, just to the south of Andorra. Two stages of this year’s Tour de France are being held in Andorra next week and we have it in mind to visit during the event.
We took our time over the journey pausing at Ripoll (to stock up on supplies) and near Cercs on the Panta de la Baells (to enable the dogs to take their now customary morning swim). There were other stops too but these were just brief photo opportunities
We took our time over the journey, stopping frequently for photos…the views were pleasant…
… the charcuterie in a local supermarket had a wonderful selection of hams… The dogs were quite happy swimming
These photos were taken on the Panta de la Baells Reservoir. Beanie has gone swimming mad.
We arrived at La Seu d’Urgell early afternoon and and parked up some 3 km outside of town between the two small villages of Castellciutat and Montferrer. This gave me plenty of time to conduct a brief recce of the town. It’s a small, fairly pretty town of some 12,000 people, sitting at the confluence of the Segre and Valira Rivers just 12 miles to the south of Andorra. This area is all about cycling, white water rafting on the Segre and, surprisingly, cheese – Spanish cheese producers descend on the town from all over the country every October for a major cheese fair.
Having walked the 3 kilometres to d’Urgell in 33 degrees centigrade, I was delighted to stumble upon the cool tree lined avenue of Passeig de Joan Brudieu near the centre of the town. A couple bars on the avenue were open and locals of all ages were simply sitting in the shade and chatting over a beer, wine or coffee. I can appreciate now why such avenues are a feature of so many Spanish towns. They provide much needed relief from the hot afternoon sun.
The tree lined avenue on Passeig de Joan Brudieu
From the Avenue I made my way to the old(er) part to the town where most of the shops sit in a stone arcade (which, once again, is designed to protect the local inhabitants from the sun) and that arcade led me to the Romanesque Catedral de Santa Maria.
The stone arcade
Catedral de Santa Maria
I’ve not been inside very many Catholic Churches in Spain yet but my first thoughts, based on the few I have seen, is that the insides are nowhere near as sumptuous as those I have seen in France and Italy.
Just a short walk from the Cathedral is the Olympic Park which was built for the 1992 Barcelona Olympics. The white water canoeing and kayaking events were held there in 1992 and while those same sports facilities are now available for locals to use, much of the area has been given over to gentler pursuits. For instance, there are now two very welcoming bars in the complex (not that I had time to use them – I had to get back to the Van for the football – England v Italy in the European Championship Final at Wembley).
Fountains in the Olympic Park
And so to the football, after starting brilliantly (England were 1-0 up within just 2 minutes following a great strike by Luke Shaw) it turned into a disaster with Italy first equalising and then, after extra time was played without any further score, winning on penalties. The saddest thing is that Italy deserved their win.
Getting excited before the game…
The football was memorable on two counts. Firstly, England lost despite having the home advantage and being odds on favourites. The second was the electrical storm which hit us just after Italy equalised. Strong winds came from nowhere and caused absolute havoc across the campsite. We made it into the Van just before the thunder, lightening and heavy rain struck. We got away with it but some serious damage was caused to the vehicles and tents of people camped both sides of us.
The next day was about my visiting the two local villages of Castellciutat and Montferrer and finding us a pub for lunch. That was easy. Montferrer has no shops, bars or restaurants – absolutely nothing. Castellciutat has only the one pub but it did us proud. Despite it being Sunday (or because of it?) the pub was packed with locals who all seemed to know each other and the mood was lively and friendly. Add that the beer and food was good and inexpensive and we were more than happy to while away a good two hours sitting at a table outside and relaxing.
We were two of only half a dozen people in the Castellciutat bar as we sat down for a drink and a bite to eat. Within moments the place was packed with the locals and the mood was lovely
Day 15 of our Tour saw us visit Besalu and then move on to a very quiet campsite just 13 miles away near Montagut i Oix on the edge of the Garrotxa Volcanic Zone National Park. There is very little of any interest in the area (unless you enjoy walking rough woodland trails up and down hills) but that suited us fine because we had booked in for two days with a view to simply chilling. We did that alright and enjoyed ourselves so much we stayed for a third night.
We made good use of the camp pool every day and it was never busier than in the photo
One absolute must during our stay was to watch the European Championship Semi-Final match between England and Denmark and that was achieved despite the camp having only very weak 3G and seriously poor Wifi. Vanya managed to stream the match on to two different I-pads (don’t ask me how) and while the I-pads took turns freezing one at least would work sufficiently well for us to follow most of the match. It wasn’t ideal but it worked and of course England won!
Parked up and ready for the match
About 400 metres from our campsite alongside the road to Tortella is a narrow 28 metre high single arch 14th century bridge which crosses the River Llierca. Would you believe, Vanya actually made it to the top of the bridge? It was the river flowing very slowly under the bridge which most impressed the dogs. It became their private swimming pool with Beanie in particular loving the daily swim.
The Pont de Llierca
The River Llierca under the Pont de Llierca
Of course, I cannot sit and do nothing even on chill days and so on two of our three days at Montagut I wandered off into the Garrotxa Park on short walks. They weren’t brilliant walks because (a) many of the trails are indistinct and (b) the tree line in this part of the world is so high that it is virtually impossible to get decent views but they kept me occupied.
My first walk was along part of Spain’s GR1 route and it took me from the Pont de Llierca up to and well beyond the Oratori de Plansalloses which chapel is popularly known as the ‘Saints Bodies’ after a legend that tells of the small bodies of numerous children being found there.
Oratori de Plansalloses. Doesn’t look much like a chapel, does it? Far too small.
My second walk, the next day, was a longer route which took me in the opposite direction from the Pont de Llierca up to Montsiposit and then on to la Creu de la Ripolla. Absolute waste of time. The Santa Creu cross at the top of Montsiposit was more of a disappointment than the Oratori de Plansalloses. I had to fight may through a mass of thorns which cover the Montsiposit summit only to discover it the Santa Creu is little more than a small trig point with a cross on it. If that wasn’t bad enough, La Creu de la Ripolla proved to be nothing more than a yellow signpost pointing the way back to my start point and various other destinations.
The views on the second day were about as dull as the first day
The best part of any trek is the beer and tapas when the day is done
Leaving the walks aside, we still enjoyed our stay in Montagut.
Wolfgang Dino, whom we met in Tossa, recommended Besalu as a place to visit and so we did just that (although I made a meal of the journey when, just two kilometres from Besalu, I took the wrong turning off a roundabout and added 20 kilometres to our route – Plonker!). Never mind; we got there in the end and we still had plenty of time to look around and enjoy a tapas lunch.
Besalu is a well preserved and enchanting little town on the Fluvia River at the edge of the La Garrotxa Natural Park in the foothills of the Pyrenees. Access to the town is across an 11th century Romanesque bridge, the Pont Vell, which leads into a maze of 11th to 14th century stone buildings and narrow cobbled streets date all of which are enclosed in the original 12 century town walls. The place is brimming with history and character and while there are a number of tourist shops, their focus is towards locally produced items, lace and ceramics (especially colourful Catalan pottery) and it really does not appear a particularly tourist destination.
The main entrance into Besalu, the Pont Vell. Note how the fortified gate is bedecked with Catalonian political messages. They are common throughout Catalonia. This independence issue is not going away any time soon
This photo too is of the Pont Vell but from the other side
The town is made entirely of stone and cobbled streets and is wholly enchanting
Some of the old wooden doors looked almost as old as the original stonework
Towards the centre of the town on the Place de la Libertat is the Church of Sant Pere de Besalu. Founded in 977 and consecrated in 1003 it is all that remains of a much older and larger Benedictine monastery on this site. There is a town market on the Place de la Libertat every Tuesday.
The inside of the church is relatively simple for a Catholic Church. The third photo is of a structure at the back of the altar. I’m not sure what is or was. I suspect it was part of the original abbey.
There is a second church within the town walls, the Church of Saint Vicene, but it doesn’t have the same impact as the Church of Sant Pere.
The Church of Sant Vicene
Besalu is one of the towns listed in the ‘Camino de Sefarad’ which is a network of Jewish Quarters, “each with significant Jewish Heritage”, stretching across Spain. Besalu had a sizeable community of Sephardic Jews (i.e. Jews who lived in Spain until the time of the Inquisition and who spoke a Spanish Hebrew patois known as Ladino) but this particular community disappeared not long after Pope Benedict issued his Bull in 1415 which prompted yet another systematic persecution of the local Jews by their Christian neighbours. The Christians in Besalu elected to board up the doors and windows of houses and block off all streets in the Jewish Quarter (except the one route out of town) and within 20 years all the Jews had gone. Besalu’s Jewish Quarter fell into ruin but in 1964 an almost perfectly preserved Jewish 13th Century Public Bath (the mikvah) was unearthed during local construction. It is this mikvah which secured Besalu a place in the Camino de Sefarad – there are only three still standing across the whole of Europe.
This view of the Pont Vell was taken from where the town’s Jewish Quarter was sited
Previously a quiet fisherman’s village on the Costa Brava, Tossa de Mar may now be considered the most northerly of the busy modern beach resorts that are typically Costa Brava and for that reason Vanya was not impressed with the place but for me it has a great mix of new and old and, at the risk of appearing a pompous git, integrates tradition and contemporaneity or modernism. Vanya won’t be impressed with that either.
One feature which sets it apart is the old town. It is the only place on the Costa Brava to have an almost fully preserved walled (medieval) town complete with castle turrets and cobbled winding streets. It’s not that large but it kept me amused for a good hour.
The town has 5 or 6 gold coloured Blue Flag sandy beaches within easy walking distance of the town centre. Sitting under the old town battlements the largest of these beaches, the 400 metre long crescent shaped Playa Grande, was ranked among the best 25 beaches in the world by National Geographic Magazine but just the other side of the castle and protected from North winds by the headland is the prettier smaller beach of La Mar Menuda.
On the left, Playa Grande. On the right, La Mar Menuda beach. Neither of them very busy.
Vanya on a typical very pretty old town street but to be fair some of the streets in the newer part of Tossa are equally attractive
There are purportedly three churches in Tossa de Mar but to me the the Esglesia Vella de Sant Vicenc amounted to little more than a ruin. The Saint Vicenc de Tossa is smallish well preserved church with a particularly nice ceiling but my favourite is the very little Chapel of Our Lady of Socorro.
On the left and centre the Saint Vicenc de Tossa with it’s impressive ceiling. On the right, the beautiful little Chapel of Our Lady of Socorro
We both enjoyed wandering the narrow streets of Tossa de Mar and we both appreciated the warm welcome of the locals. We stopped first at Dino’s Bar Ristorante on Calle San Telmo for a drink or two and got to talking with the German owner, Wolfgang Dino, who has lived in Catelonia for more than 50 years. He gave us his thoughts as to the best places to visit in the area and invited us to stay on and watch the Spain v Italy semi final of the European Championships but we were already committed to a nearby Sports Bar where the equally friendly owner had reserved us a table.
That’s Wolfgang Dino sitting outside his restaurant (Would you believe he is 80 years old?!?) and that’s a photo (not mine) of the inside of the restaurant
Oh… and Spain lost on penalties to Italy
One other piece of relatively useless information before I head off out but it demonstrates the very real contrast that is Tossa de Mar – This town was the first place in the world to formally declare itself as an anti-bullfighting city. You wouldn’t expect that in Spain. Well done Tossa!
So we made it across the border from France without any issues. Because of Covid, Spain currently requires that anybody entering from either Britain or France be double vaccinated (or have a recent antigen test and isolate, etc) but nobody is checking. Indeed, it is as life is normal with no border controls at all. Having said that, we were double vaccinated before leaving England and we had the antigen test before entering France and in Spain as in France and England everyone does appear to be wearing face masks indoors.
Vanya found us what I thought at the time was an expensive campsite but, to be fair, it sits on a beach with crystal clear waters and with the Sierra de Rodes Hills serving as a backdrop – what more can you ask for? The fact is, too, that at this time of the year all campsites in Spain are bloody expensive and we’ve since had to pay considerably more – yes I am once again running behind with the blog.
The chosen campsite was on the coast at Platja El Port de la Vall, a twenty minute walk around the bay from El Port de la Selva, just to the north of the Cap de Creus and our first priority after camping up was to take the dogs for a swim in the Med. They loved it. Me, I thought it was a bit cold (and I never went in beyond my ankles).
Well, Beanie went swimming. Nala went searching for stones while Vanya and I waded – it is early summer and at this time of the year the Med takes getting used to.
We were never intending to stay more than one night at this place, and had already decided upon our next destination (Tossa de Mar), but we made time to walk around the bay to El Port de la Selva. There is an excellent well lit coastal path connecting El Port de la Vall with El Port de la Selva and this path takes you by numerous rocky coves with small pebble beaches.
Left hand photo is of the pebble beach outside the campsite. The right hand photo is of one of the numerous coves that fill the walk from Port de la Vall with Port de la Selva.
El Port de la Selva is small former fishing port with a population of less than 1,000 which is now given over to the production of olive oil and what I will call ‘light’ tourism. Tourism is clearly the town’s principal source of income but there are no high rise buildings and the town remains quiet and unspoilt. It certainly wasn’t crowded with tourists during our visit and such tourists as we saw (heard) were all Spanish. Of course it might be different at weekends when nearby Girona and Barcelona empty out.
The wholly whitewashed town comprises an esplanade and two or three narrow streets all running parallel with each other and a series of even narrower alleys bisecting the streets. You could not get lost in this place. There are a number of bar restaurants and a handful of tiny shops but none selling the usual tacky rubbish associated with so many seaside resorts. Vanya really liked the place.
One of the narrow alleys leads up to the
We spent far too much time in the town hunting down an ATM (don’t believe the google map which shows at least three – there is only one and it didn’t work!) but otherwise we thoroughly enjoyed sitting outside a bar on the promenade waiting for the sunset when it was time to return to the Van to stream the Spain v Italy semi-final. The problem with ‘Light’ Tourism is that football is not catered for (even when the national team is playing).
Yep, we’re starting to chill
That’s the sun going down; time to head back. Also, the view back to El Port de la Selva
Why on earth did we go to La Jonquera? Vanya had been told that the cheapest wine in France or Spain is to be bought at a retail outlet called La Jonquera on the Spanish-French Border where Spain’s Els Limits meets France’s Le Perthus. So off we set.
In reality Els Limits/Le Perthus is a shabby run down border town whose main claim to fame until recently was it’s roaring sex trade. Even though prostitution is legal in France, brothels are not and when the Paradise Club opened in 2010 (in Els Limits on the Spanish side of the border where brothels are legal) it’s 90+ rooms became quite a mecca for prostitutes and their clients (and it very much remains so today if the number of scantily clad girls hanging around the various lorry parks is anything to go by).
It seems the present mayor of Els Limits is trying to clean the place up (some hope) and a massive retail park has opened. Apparently it is the largest border outlet centre in Europe and if you are into last years labels and designer gear it is a must. For my part it is one of the shabbiest and seediest places I have ever been and it is to be avoided.
We moved on to Cala Montgo and by far the most expensive camp site of our tour to date. It wasn’t a bad camp site being well situated (right on the coast) and with excellent facilities and Cala Montgo is a very clean, tidy and quiet little Spanish holiday resort with a large sandy beach and a handful of cosy bars and cafes but, you don’t expect Spain to be more expensive than France.
L’Escala is well thought of by the Spanish but we were not that impressed by the town itself and I wish we had gone just a little further north, more into the Bay of Roses. I didn’t reach Spain during my trip last year but I did a fair amount of research on this coast and I recall there is an excellent coastal walk going north from L’Escala through St Pere Pescador, Castello d’Empuries and Cadaques to El Port de la Selvas. Isn’t hindsight wonderful?
Cala Montgo (there’s a lovely sandy cove behind that headland)
The three best aspects to our camp site were (a) the swimming pool and (b) a nice restaurant just next door which provided great views over the Bay of Roses and (c) the short cliff walk (some 2 kms) to L’Escala. It was the swimming pool (and the weather forecast of 34 degrees centigrade) and a great veal steak that persuaded us to stay on in Cala Montgo for an extra day.
The swimming pool…… and the Bay of Roses from our restaurant
The stroll along the clifftop from Cala Montgo to L’Escala was brief but pleasant; L’Escala itself was disappointing.
Looking back at the start of the walkAcross the Bay of RosesApproaching L’Escala
