15 November 2010

Sick of the Med? Never! - Costa Brava [Day Three]

I don't think I can ever see too many Mediterranean beaches! Today we ventured north of L'Escala, up the coast right to the French boarder. Generally more 'sleepy' than the beaches we had visited the previous day, but just as beautiful. First we called into Llanca, with its huge, rocky cliff faces, large harbour, and wide gravel beaches. We took a break in a local cafe for a spot of lunch - tortilla baguette, beauuutiful.

We drove around the bay and again headed north. Before long we came across Portbou. More of the same really, except here there were crazy people walking over the rocks on the waters edge. There was also a mad fisherman in his tiny boat out in the bay. It seemed quite calm from the beach, but all of a sudden the boat would disappear behind a wave for a good five seconds before reappearing. And when it did it was on such a lean it looked as though it might capsize! The one guy on board didn't seem too concerned, though, as he pottered around the bay before heading back out to sea.

Our final stop was Colera, right on the French boarder, with its old, faded dingheys pulled up on the side of the beach. There was also a huge run down building right on the waterfront - which I thought looked really cool, but to be honest was a bit of an eyesore. Although it was warm, the sun kept ducking behind the clouds, and there was a bit of wind; not ideal beach weather. There was one old guy staying strong, sitting on his towel and reading the paper. It looked as though he had been doing the exact same thing every day for about the last 20 years.

We made our way back to L'Escala mid-afternoon as I had to get packing. I had planned to give myself about two hours to get to the airport, but the old, sensible ones thought I should give it three. So after I packed up and we said our good-byes, I headed off into the sunset. Dad and Glenis were staying on in L'Escala for another 5 days or so, before heading on to Shanghai.

It was just as well I left early, as the traffic was nuts. Add to this the fact that I had no idea where I was going and Barcelona's street signs are shite (there were hardly any signs for the airport), it was quite a stressful experience. I was watching the time tick by and thinking '45 minutes to get the car back...', '30 minutes to get the car back. I must be close by now!'.Anyway, I made it in the end; dropping the car back about 5 minutes before it was due.

The flight was fine. I flew into my favourite airport, Stansted, which means it took forever for me to get home. I finally fell into bed at ridiculous o'clock, only having about 4 hours sleep before having to get up again for work.

Last remarks on my Spanish extravaganza - Ibiza is epic, go. Barcelona, ditto, go. The Costa Brava is beautiful and more laid back. If you are looking for a relaxing holiday, I can't think of many better places. And if you want the place to yourself - go in September!


  1. I love how you said "ridiculous o'clock" because I say that ALL the time and people look at me like I'm nuts.

  2. oh wowo. im so fucking jealous.


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