Where's Bertie? He's in a free Aire in a dirt car park on the edge of the small town of Sant Gregori, just west of Girona. Exact location: 41.98513, 2.75935.
Weather: Rain until early afternoon, then dry with sunny intervals.
I always like seeing little egrets or storks when out for a run, but both of those bird species are trumped by flamingos. This morning I had the joy of flamingos.
We also had a pretty good sunrise
First, though, we'd left Camarles and driven the 5km to L'Ampolla, to allow me to run along the coast without having first to tackle a pavementless road. The only reason we hadn't stayed there last night was because I was working on the principle that if the authorities have been so good as to provide official (and free) motorhome parking in an area, then they would probably prefer you to park there, rather than in random car parks. However, within minutes of trotting off from Bertie in L'Ampolla I started to regret that decision. L'Ampolla looked to be a much more attractive and interesting place to spend half a day.
Sculpture of the day, the first thing of note I found on leaving Bertie
I'd had to dodge the waves as I made my way along the far section of promenade
By the time I'd got off the promenade and made my way a distance along the ensuing track of firm sand, heading back into the Ebre Delta Natural Park, the rain that had been falling since dawn had all but stopped, so just after I paused to snap the flamingos...
...I stopped again to take my jacket off.
Coming back along the track. There are a lot of flamingos, and other birdlife, in the second snap.
It wasn't long after I'd turned to retrace my steps that the rain forced the jacket back on. Had I returned directly, I would have avoided anything other than a moderate pitter-pattering. However, I was a few minutes short on my time, so I passed the turn to the car park and headed up a little hill. I was almost at the top when the rain really started to come down. I returned to Bertie to hang dripping gear in his washroom.
As soon as I'd second breakfasted, we hit the road. Our destination (chosen purely because it was an Aire with good reviews that wasn't much of a detour from our route north) was 3 hours ahead of us, and we tackled them in a single stint, accompanied by various BBC radio programmes (courtesy of the BBC Sounds App) and an audiobook.
With it being well after 1pm when we arrived, I was rummaging in the fridge within 20 seconds of the handbrake being applied. Twenty minutes later I served up a quick homemade Fabada-esque dish*. That hit the spot nicely.
By the time we'd eaten, we'd decided we weren't going to stay put. The Aire was in a railway station car park. It wasn't an attractive location, and it seemed likely it would become busy with slamming car doors early on a Monday morning (we spent last night next to a train line, and proved again that we're very good at sleeping through trains, but I know that I'm not good at sleeping through car doors).
It was only a 20 minute drive to this place, which is more attactive, if you ignore the piles of branches and, beyond them, construction site detritus, on the other side of the car park.
A stroll through the town this afternoon didn't reveal any individual thing of great interest, but I did note that if I'd been abducted by aliens and abandoned here, I wouldn't think that I was in Spain. I know we're now in Catalonia, but we've spent time in this region before, and I'd never before noted such a marked difference in the architecture from the more southerly parts of Spain.
As for our plans for the next few days: Roses has now been dropped from the itinerary. Mick's been hankering for a return since we were there in 2016, but with a lack of time on this trip, we decided it wasn't worth the detour for the single night we would be able to spend there. Carcassone is next on the agenda, but we need everyone to do a 'better weather' dance in view of what is currently predicted during the time we have allocated there.
Weather: Rain until early afternoon, then dry with sunny intervals.
I always like seeing little egrets or storks when out for a run, but both of those bird species are trumped by flamingos. This morning I had the joy of flamingos.
First, though, we'd left Camarles and driven the 5km to L'Ampolla, to allow me to run along the coast without having first to tackle a pavementless road. The only reason we hadn't stayed there last night was because I was working on the principle that if the authorities have been so good as to provide official (and free) motorhome parking in an area, then they would probably prefer you to park there, rather than in random car parks. However, within minutes of trotting off from Bertie in L'Ampolla I started to regret that decision. L'Ampolla looked to be a much more attractive and interesting place to spend half a day.
By the time I'd got off the promenade and made my way a distance along the ensuing track of firm sand, heading back into the Ebre Delta Natural Park, the rain that had been falling since dawn had all but stopped, so just after I paused to snap the flamingos...
It wasn't long after I'd turned to retrace my steps that the rain forced the jacket back on. Had I returned directly, I would have avoided anything other than a moderate pitter-pattering. However, I was a few minutes short on my time, so I passed the turn to the car park and headed up a little hill. I was almost at the top when the rain really started to come down. I returned to Bertie to hang dripping gear in his washroom.
As soon as I'd second breakfasted, we hit the road. Our destination (chosen purely because it was an Aire with good reviews that wasn't much of a detour from our route north) was 3 hours ahead of us, and we tackled them in a single stint, accompanied by various BBC radio programmes (courtesy of the BBC Sounds App) and an audiobook.
With it being well after 1pm when we arrived, I was rummaging in the fridge within 20 seconds of the handbrake being applied. Twenty minutes later I served up a quick homemade Fabada-esque dish*. That hit the spot nicely.
By the time we'd eaten, we'd decided we weren't going to stay put. The Aire was in a railway station car park. It wasn't an attractive location, and it seemed likely it would become busy with slamming car doors early on a Monday morning (we spent last night next to a train line, and proved again that we're very good at sleeping through trains, but I know that I'm not good at sleeping through car doors).
It was only a 20 minute drive to this place, which is more attactive, if you ignore the piles of branches and, beyond them, construction site detritus, on the other side of the car park.
A stroll through the town this afternoon didn't reveal any individual thing of great interest, but I did note that if I'd been abducted by aliens and abandoned here, I wouldn't think that I was in Spain. I know we're now in Catalonia, but we've spent time in this region before, and I'd never before noted such a marked difference in the architecture from the more southerly parts of Spain.
As for our plans for the next few days: Roses has now been dropped from the itinerary. Mick's been hankering for a return since we were there in 2016, but with a lack of time on this trip, we decided it wasn't worth the detour for the single night we would be able to spend there. Carcassone is next on the agenda, but we need everyone to do a 'better weather' dance in view of what is currently predicted during the time we have allocated there.
Just up the road from Bertie tonight. As churches go, this one is lacking in architectural merit.
(*Three flavours of sausage (one ordinary pork, one chorizo, one blood sausage) in a white bean stew. The white beans were from a jar. The veg was diced small so it would cook quickly. Definitely not the traditional dish, but it was reet tasty.)
Various memories of Carcassonne including half a day searching for compatible screw-on gas cartridges.
ReplyDeleteThar scenario is why for the GR10 we bought a stove that's compatible with both screw and Campingaz cylinders...only then to find one location that only had the canisters that you pierce.
DeleteAs you'll see from today's post, our memory-making in Carcassonne has been deferred for another trip.
I had provided properly but Stanstead airport wouldn't allow me to take the bare metal burner through because they said it was associated with gas. I ended up having to buy a cumbersome and heavy Camping Gas stove in France. I also had to improvise posting the supposedly malfeasant lightweight gas burner home from the airport. Happy days!
Delete