Fall trip across northern Spain


Sept 18-19
Delta 89 Salt Lake City - Paris
Air France 5576 Paris - Vigo, Galicia, Spain

Sept 19-20
Hotel Rúas, Pontevedra, Spain

Sept 21-22
Pensión Las Rías, A Coruña, Spain

Sept 23
Hotel Carris Almirante, Ferrol, Spain

Sept 24-25
(narrow-gauge railroad along north coast)
La Casona de Pío, Cudillero, Spain

Sept 26-27
Narrow-gauge to Oviedo, train to León

Sept 28-30
Pick up car in León, wander westward

Oct 1-3
Rectoral de Anllo, Sober, Spain

Oct 4
Air France 5577 Vigo-Paris
Novotel Survilliers Saint Witz, Survilliers, France

Oct 5
Delta 88 Paris-Salt Lake City

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23 September
Pontevedra, Galicia
It is Sunday and we are in Ferrol, Galicia, but I need to backtrack some, since we have been moving along too quickly for me to keep up with e-mails. (We are breaking our three-nights-in-each-place rule on this trip, staying only two, and I am feeling a bit breathless as a result.) So, first, Pontevedra. My photos are on Jerome's computer, so they may lag a day or two, while I can write messages here on my Tab.
We stayed in the small Hotel Rúas, in a tiny room overlooking a side street, while small plazas bookmarked the two sides of the building. Wandering pedestrian streets led from plaza to plaza throughout the area, some plazas larger, with churches and parks, others more intimate with cafes all around, others lined with small stores. We arrived on Wednesday in the midafternoon, oriented ourselves enough not to get lost, then walked down to the river, enjoying the sunshine and the mild weather. Flowers in bloom, leaves still green on trees, no signs of autumn. The city has created a park out of a river island, put in pedestrian bridges, and filled it with sculpture. The local university is alongside. Joggers, runners, walkers, and dogs were everywhere, though it did not seem crowded. We returned to the hotel,and enjoyed a "dinner" of tapas on the plaza outside the hotel, from the hotel's own kitchen. Delicious white wine from Rais Baixas, steamed mussels and fried calamari and Padron peppers, as I mentioned in my last message.
We slept, unintentionally, until nearly noon on Thursday, but it must have been what we needed, because we never did experience any jetlag. It was too late to find breakfast, but we found coffee easily. We wandered and explored, and eventually found the one small museum that gave a brief history of the city. We had the "menú del día" at the hotel restaurant, sitting outside on the plaza, in the midafternoon. In addition to the seafood, the highlight was caldo gallego, a delicious broth with white beans, potatoes, and tender young collard/mustard greens. Then we took a nap, followed by more walking, and more tapas. If you begin to see a pattern, you are perceptively correct!
Enough for one message; on to A Coruña in a later message. Cheers!


24 September
A Coruña
Continuing our Galician adventure, we took a morning train on Friday to A Coruña, a port city of about 250,000. All of this northwestern Spanish coastline is rugged and twisty, with a major inlet, or "ría", seemingly every kilometer or so. A Coruña rests on a beautiful natural harbor that has attracted settlers since the Celts and Phoenicians. Even Rome decided it was too important to ignore. Today it is a lovely city occupying a neck of land with an ancient but modernized lighthouse at its head. The "neck" extends six blocks from side to side, with beaches on the north and the harbor on the south. Those streets are filled with shops and dozens of tapas bars. We were there on weekend nights, and the scene was hopping. But then, maybe it hops during the work week, too....
The train trip from Pontevedra was lovely; the Spanish railroad system is modern and well run.  A short taxi ride took us to our Pensión Las Rías, a typical urban budget hostel that was clean, friendly, and perfectly located at the bottom of the neck. We enjoyed an exploratory walk on a beautiful, sunny afternoon. Lovely seven- to eight-story apartment buildings with glassed-in balconies line the streets and the beaches. The Domus, or Museo del Hombre, a science museum about the human body, is housed in a stunning building by Japanese architect Arata Isozaki. We located Adega O Bebedeiro, Jerome's restaurant of choice for his birthday meal on Saturday. We ate modestly on this day, from a menú del día in a small ten-table seafood restaurant downhill from the main Plaza María Pita. This is a beautifully arcaded square reminiscent of the famous one in Salamanca, with a statue of the local Joan of Arc at its center. María Pita saved A Coruña from destruction by Sir Frances Drake by rallying the locals in its defense.
After a late-afternoon nap, we headed out for tapas, and it was quite an experience! The small pedestrian streets were jammed with people, and dogs, and infants in strollers with proud parents and friends. Elderly couples, adolescents on dates, girls dressed to the nines. An occasional musician playing for change. Clams, mussels, potato salad with aioli dressing, calamari rings, and on, and on. Zorza, a spiced chopped meat dish served with french fries. More seafood than meat, a contrast from other regions we have visited.
On Saturday morning we started with coffee at a small pastelería with delicious pastries. We walked out to the lighthouse at the tip of the peninsula, along with many locals strolling, jogging, walking their dogs. A trio of musicians serenaded the public with lilting bagpipe tunes (I've never thought of bagpipe music as lilting, but this was.) The lighthouse, named the Tower of Hercules (who rumor has it laid the original foundation!) is the oldest continually operating lighthouse in the world, they say.
After more exploration, we headed to O Bebedeiro for "dinner." (If you're not interested in food, you can skip this paragraph,) Jerome opted for the "Surprise" menu, five courses chosen by the chef and announced as each was served. I chose to specify a more modest two-course meal, but we shared everything so it was like sharing a single, seven-course repast. Mozzerella and avocado salad with a delicate vinagrette; another salad of young arugula, grilled pineapple, goat cheese bits wrapped in thinly sliced ham, with balsamic drizzle and toasted pine nuts, topped with fried crunchy onions. Two octopus croquettes in parsley aioli. Five baby clams in a tomato-based reduction sauce with herbs. Grilled thick tuna steak on sliced potatoes with pepperade. Thinly sliced tender beef with caramelized onion puree. My entree: two very young salmon filets grilled, a side of pureed potatoes nesting a single scallop wrapped in bacon, and four steamed clams in their shells. All small amounts but still lots of food! Dessert was a soft goat cheese, mildly salty, creamy texture, with membrillo (Spanish marmelade) on top. As for wines:  a bottle of the best Rías Baixas alboreño (a white) -- in a blue bottle! Plus a half-bottle of Ribeira Sacra mencía, the regional red. Coffee. We sort of waddled home, took a long nap, rested and recovered until 9 or so that evening. We couldn't face tapas, so we headed to the Plaza for a light green salad and small pizza. The plaza was filled to,the brim with people of all ages, really just an extension of the tapas scene without the food and drink.
What a day. I loved A Coruña and could have stayed longer. There were things we didn't see, it is a lovely place, and the people were friendly. But it was time to move on.
Sorry this is so long; I'll make future messages shorter. More adventures, and photos, to come!
Cheers,
Nancy



26 September
Cudillero
We spent Monday and Tuesday in the picturesque port town of Cudillero, traveling from Galicia into Asturias on Monday morning on a narrow-gauge railroad that hugged the coast and provided some beautiful scenery. It took five hours, with many stops at tiny stations, but was thoroughly enjoyable. Photos to come.
With some 1,600 inhabitants, Cudillero is still an active commercial fishing harbor, though the main source of income is clearly tourism. But it is off-season, and a storm blew through on Tuesday, so the town was pretty quiet. This suited us, since Cudillero was the midpoint of this trip, and we deliberately chose a small place to rest and recuperate (!) from the hardships of travel.
Which is exactly what we did, at a lovely hotel in what was once a stone warehouse but has been renovated into one of the nicest small hotels I have ever enjoyed, with a staff equally friendly and helpful. After an initial mediocre lunch at a touristy place near the wharf, we followed our hotel's recommendation and stuck to the back streets, and had some excellent seafood, returning three times to the same restaurant in order to try all the interesting and delicious dishes they served. We got to know the waiter very well! In between meals we walked and, well, rested, especially during the afternoon rains.
Another highlight of Cudillero was that we met a couple from England who were similar spirits, as it were, in traveling interests and style, and we ended up having some meals with them, enjoying getting acquainted and swapping travel stories.
For the rest about Cudillero, I am going to let the photos do the talking, though I am having problems getting them sent out over Picasa, so there may be some delay. We are now in Oviedo for a couple of days, about which more tomorrow!
All best,
Nancy


27 September
Oviedo is today a city of some 225,000 inhabitants, but we are tucked into the lovely small Hotel Fruela at the edge of the historic district, bordering the shopping district and the university and a huge city park. A perfect location. We are in the coastal mountains, away from the sea but at only about 800 feet of elevation. The weather is sunny and cool.
Oviedo has had a roller coaster history, settled by Romans in the 1st century but not established as a town until the 8th century, when a church was built. The Asturian king Alfonso II moved his court here at the end of that century, and Oviedo had its heyday from then until the 11th century, when the capital was moved south to León. During medieval times the town became a major stop on the Camino of Santiago de Compostela, and continued a quiet life as a small provincial city until 1936 when it was severely damaged in the Spanish civil war. (The town was taken over by a local pro-Franco rebellion that held out against the Republicans until the Nationalist forces relieved them as they pushed north.) In recent decades the city fathers have invested in renovating the city while preserving its heritage, and it is a thriving place.
In earlier times, the proud principality of Asturias was the first region on the peninsula to rebel against the Moorish occupation, and it was from here that the Reconquest began. We have enjoyed two incredibly good museums, the first the art museum and the second the archaeology museum. In the latter we learned a semester's worth of information about the pre-neanderthal, neanderthal, and homo sapiens inhabitants whose cave art in Asturias rivals that of France. We sense a new theme for future trips.
This is a mining region, has been since the Bronze Age, and four months ago a few thousand local miners marched (yes, on foot) the 250 miles to Madrid, to protest government closure of the mines. It would seem that these are feisty people in whatever century.
They are being delightfully warm and friendly to us and we are enjoying the extensive pedestrian
zone, the various monuments, the excellent food (fabada astriana is a famous bean stew), and the delicious local vermouth. The little bar next to the hotel is owned and run by a young Oviedan who was born and raised in NYC but came "home" to Oviedo to live. It's a great town.
More tomorow,
Nancy


29 September
Memorias de Oviedo
Two days later, I'm just trying to capture some details of Oviedo before my memory loses them completely. Pedestrian plazas and lots of people-watching, public art (statues) and golden stone buildings. Very modern hotel room inside a traditional old-hotel facade, tiny but with mirrors used effectively to avert sense of claustrophobia. Went to a restaurant named Punto y Coma (a play on words: it's the term for the punctuational semicolon, but also can be interpreted to mean "stop and eat") twice, for an excellent meal and for a copa de vino. Ate tapas at a couple of places, including chain named Lizzarín. We have been there in other cities and it is consistently good; interesting that a chain can be made out of little tapas restaurants. Hung out at La Corte de Pelayo, a cafe/bar/restaurant on the corner with a gorgeous wood-paneled interior, for Internet access, coffee, breakfast. Discovered a great hat store, splurged on a Basque beret for Jerome, a wool fedora for Nancy. Cathedral and monastery, the latter famous for serious work in recovering and recording Gregorian chants, even sometimes including women in the choir (gasp). Students everywhere, a university plus a conservatory of music, plus a municipal school of music, all housed in ancient but remodelled buildings in the historic district. Cellos in cases being carried around. Art students. A Contemporary Art of Oviedo exhibition, a venue for the contemporary galleries in town to display their offerings. Usual conglomeration of some mediocre, some really good artistic work, mostly paintings, some photographs, all interesting in uses of materials and perspectives. Church bells and carrillons at selected hours, especially late afternoon, early evening. A welcoming town, which we did not fully explore. I could easily return for another day or two. Took a lot of pictures.
Yesterday morning we took a train to León, a beautiful 2-1/2 hour trip through the Cantabrian mountains, all clothed in vivid greens, with deep gorges and occasional tiny towns. In León, we picked up a rental car right at the train station, made a quick exit out of town, and headed straight for our current location, Villafranca del Bierzo. We skipped some places along the way, but still barely got here in time to eat. We are in wine country, about which more later!
Saludos,
Nancy


1 October
Driving from León last Friday, we arrived midafternoon at the Puerta del Perdón hostel, and were treated to a warm reception from our host, Erminio. We have a charming room looking out on a back patio and to the hills beyond. and we have had amazing food from the hotel kitchen. We ate immediately after our arrival: Green salad with pieces of  partridge that had been cooked in vinegar; baby scallops in garlic sauce; oxtail estofado (pot roast). Good local, young red wine. Then we took a walk around town, a very pleasant place, many houses with vegetable and rose gardens, sited where two trout streams converge. Its 2,400 inhabitants occupy both upstream valleys; the cathedral sits on the promontory in between.
An interesting and integral part of the Villafranca experience is that it is on the Camino de Santiago, and pilgrims walk steadily by our hostel and through the town, mostly in the mornings. All ages, all nationalities, all kinds of groupings, a few people alone.
We came back from our long walk, rested and read, and went downstairs to the dining room to find the television discretely tuned to a soccer game between the local team, Ponferradina, and the second-level team of Real Madrid. Happily, Ponferradina won, raising local hopes that they may advance to the first division of Spanish soccer. A friend of Erminio's, Jose Mas, had come to watch the game. A local vintner originally from Barcelona, he was schooled in oenology in Lérida (a good Spanish ag school west of Barcelona), and interned in South Africa, and France. He is growing the local up-and-coming Mencía grape on 80-year-old vines, producing a small amount of red wine for regional retail distribution every year. We had an amiable and interesting conversation with him as we sipped his 2008 vintage and we all watched the game.
On Saturday, we took a morning walk, then drove over to Las Médulas, a site where the Romans destroyed an entire mountain top to get a what turned out to be a paltry amount of gold. We spent a glorious autumn morning tooling around the countryside in our Fiat Panda, just the right size (tiny) for exploring the backwaters of Spain. Hectares of vineyards, trees turning color, creeks and rivers running clear. An occasional castle or the remains of a hilltop settlement peeking over a ridge. Beautiful sunshine. Without planning it, we arrived back in Villafranca just at mealtime, and couldn't resist another meal at the hotel: green salad with apple and goat cheese, leg of pork estofado, homemade sauerkraut, boletus mushrooms with pieces of fried jamón. Another good local young wine
A special treat was in store that night, when a chamber orchestra (in this case, seven musicians) from Cologne, Germany, presented a concert in the town theater. A very intimate space, the hall was nearly filled by the 200 or so attendees. The music was excellent: Vivaldi, Bach, Boccherini, Mozart, and Tchaikovsky's Andante Cantabile for cello and orchestra. What a treat. I took a couple of photos without flash at intermission to try to give a taste of the experience, even if not with the music.
I wrote this on Sunday, now yesterday (it is Monday and we have moved on), but I drowned my Samsung tablet by getting some water on it, and lost the use of it as well as the oomph to write. I'm borrowing Jerome's laptop for this, and want to try to get some photos off. So, all for now. Cheers,
Nancy

2 October
It now being Tuesday, I think I am two or three days behind in writing.  On Sunday, another beautiful day, we took a drive around El Bierzo, first up a one-lane, incredibly steep road on a very precipitous mountain to see a tiny village of slate (walls and roofs) and wood (doors and balconies) that clung to the slope.  For whatever reason, there was virtually no one around, and it was kind of eerie. But, it is considered to be the end of the season here, so the few tourist shops had closed for the winter, and the Sunday visitors from nearby cities hadn't arrived yet. (We know this because as we went back down the steep, curvy, one-lane road, we met at least a dozen cars going up. That was fun.) It was certainly a unique spot, with amazing views. Returning to the valley, we drove to Molinaseca, a nearby town on the Camino de Santiago that boasts a Roman bridge, and had a fine midday meal there. Twenty or thirty "caminantes" walked by as we ate, some of them enjoying ice cream that they had picked up in the town plaza. Back "home" we rested, then strolled down into town for a light supper, since Erminio's kitchen was closed for the evening.

On Monday morning we took our leave, and headed west back into Galicia, into another denominación of wine growing, although the grape is the same, the mencía. After recrossing the Cantabrian mountains, which we first did when we came south from Oviedo, we came into a drier region that reminds us very much of northern California. The scale is larger than back in León, too. Rolling hills with fairly deep valleys in between, rocky drainages, oaks and chestnut trees. Perhaps the most salient feature of the drive was that we followed the drainage of the Sil River, which is beautiful and broad and made for a lovely trip. No towns of any particular interest here; it is basically a rural grape-growing region. After an afternoon meal at a little roadside restaurant with eight tables, occupied by a dozen or so local men who clearly knew each other (and who departed after eating to go outside and play cards in the sunshine), we found our way to our current b&b, La Rectoral de Anllo. Housed in the 18th-century stone rectory of a local rural priest, the inn caters to mostly Spanish tourists. The current owners, Javi and Nacho, not only provide bed and breakfast but gourmet-level dinners as well. We enjoyed homemade fresh tomato soup and a Spanish tortilla with zucchini late last night. Two other young people who have emigrated to the country from Madrid help run the place, Javi's mother lives here also, and two friendly dogs complete the household. The building is surrounded by fields and vineyards, with a fine view off to the south of the mountains on the other side of the canyon through which the Sil runs.

It is harvest time, and half the staff was gone yesterday helping a neighbor pick grapes. Today was la vendimia here at the rectory, and Jerome and I  helped pick for about three hours this morning with eight other people, the inn's staff plus neighbors. We had both Spanish music and opera on a boombox to accompany us, and the sense of community and of work being shared made it a total pleasure. We sent off two small truckloads (maybe thirty crates) of grenache and mencia grapes to the local cooperative. This afternoon Nacho made a chicken paella on the outside grill, as is traditional, and we enjoyed a meal with the same people that lasted over two hours as we ate, drank, discussed the state of Spain and the world, and generally relaxed. It was a real highlight for us, of course, and now we are recovering as evening approaches.


Tomorrow we will visit a couple of nearby towns, and on Thursday we will head for the coast for lunch and make our way to Vigo for a late afternoon flight to Paris, where we will overnight before heading for Salt Lake on Friday. The next time you hear from me may be stateside, but I will try to get some photos off in the next day or so.

a trip down the eastern flank

April 1
Air France 8991 Salt Lake City - Paris
Air France 1648 Paris - Barcelona

April 2 - 4
Hotel Plaça de la Font, Tarragona, Spain

April 5 - 6
Hotel Market, Barcelona, Spain

April 7 - 12
Can Vespa rental apartment, Llebre 4, Girona, Spain
Can Vespa contact: Brigit & Jaume (Brigit speaks English), phone +34 977 677090571 or
           e-mail brisual@gmail.com

April 13
Fonda Cal Blasi, Alenya, 11-13, Montblanc
Carles Blasi, Carme Carrera

April 14-15
Hotel Cresol, Sta Barbara 16-18, Calaceite
Rosa

April 16 - 18
Hotel La Fonda Moreno, San Nicolas 12, Morella

April 19 - 21
Hostal Venezia, Plaza del Ayuntamiento 3, Valencia

Sunday, April 22
Air Europa 1005 Valencia-Paris
Air France 8990 (Delta 89) Paris-Salt Lake City


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April 3, 2012

Jerome and I are once again immersing ourselves in Spanish culture for a few weeks, this time focusing on Catalunya, Aragon, and Valencia. This trip is a bit different from previous visits, in that we are returning to several places we have been before, we are using public transportation more than usual, and we are meeting up with our good friends, Sue and Brent Smith, for a few days in Barcelona and Girona.

We flew out of Salt Lake with no problem, just beating the crowds as the annual LDS Conference drew to a close.  The airport was practically empty when we arrived three hours early for our flight to Paris (our philosophy is "better early than stressed", plus it was snowing);  but by the time we boarded, the place was packed.  The flight was comfortable and uneventful, and arrived a bit early into CDG airport despite an air traffic controllers' strike.  The latter did, however, delay our departure for Barcelona by an hour and ten minutes, during which time we sat in the plane on the tarmac.  Everyone was remarkably resigned / philosophic about it, perhaps in part because Barcelona was the final destination for pretty much everyone on board.

Once into Barça, we had an hour's wait for a bus to Tarragona, but the time went by quickly when we met Sr and Sra Sanchez, who were waiting for the same bus.  A friendlier and more talkative couple I can hardly imagine.  They live winters and summers in Holland, and springs and autumns in Silau, just south of Tarragona.  They were a font of information about the area, and it was a delightful encounter.  We parted with warm wishes on all sides.
It was a major contrast, in our jetlagged state, to sit in a comfortable bus for the hour trip south to Tarragona rather than negotiate the roads and toll booths in a rental car.  It was a pleasant short walk from the bus station to our Hotel Plaza de la Font (where we also stayed in the fall of 2011), and by 7 p.m. we were settled comfortably in our room overlooking the plaza.  Only a 26-hour journey from home to here!

To celebrate our safe arrival, we went on a two-stop tapas crawl, starting at the Iberico (as in the famous and delicious cured ham which is to me the essence of Spanish eating), where we washed down a few servings of jamón with a rich regional Priorat wine.  Heading back toward the hotel, we encountered Lola's (!) tapas bar, offering such temptations as roasted red peppers with grilled tuna, fried calamari with lemon, and balls of rolled chocolate for a sweet.  This was more than enough for a late dinner, and we cut short the crawl, and called it a day.
Despite early morning showers (but we are right on the Mediterranean and temperatures are mild), we headed out for coffee and pastries this morning, and renewed our acquaintance with Tarragona.  This city was originally Tarraco, a Roman port and seat of government, and it is peppered with well-preserved Roman ruins.  We spent much of our last visit exploring them, and this time we are free to delve into other back alleys and hidden quarters.  We wandered and roamed, with a stop along a coastal promenade to appreciate the sea stretching eastward, and fantasized about renting an apartment for a couple of months' stay sometime in the future.

It is now late afternoon, and we are resting after the main meal of the day, which we ate at La Cuineta, a ten-table restaurant in the Casco Antiguo, the historic section of town.  Excellent dishes included skewered grilled vegetables, artichoke hearts and mussels in a wine sauce, confit of duck with prunes and wild mushrooms, and grilled fresh calamari.  House flan for dessert.  Yum!

Our goal tonight (after some more tapas) is to stay awake for the soccer game between Barcelona and Milan, which will determine who advances to the semifinals for the European Cup.  Whether our internal biorhythms will cooperate remains to be seen.

This is a long message, but I am out of practice at distilling down our travel activities, and I am thrilled to be back in Spain.  Expect further missives over the coming days, plus photos, and feel free to use the delete key if I get too long-winded!  All the best from both of us.  We would love to hear from you should you feel so inclined.

Saludos,
Nancy

April 4, 2012

Day two in Spain, again a damp and cloudy morning. As if it weren't enough just to be here, yesterday brought three more memorable encounters. The first was with the Argentinean shopkeeper of a small gallery of local ceramics. She moved to Tarragona fourteen years ago because she likes the small-city tranquility and wanted to escape the "chaos" of Buenos Aires life.  Her gallery was once a cooperative of local artists' work, but the organizer in whose workspace it was housed retired, and she converted the cooperative into a shop. We had fun admiring different pieces and hearing about their creators.

We had promised our waiter at Ibérico (the jamón place) that we would return, and we were rewarded for our fidelity. We followed his recommendation to try lomo rather than jamón, lomo being the loin cut rather than the leg. A dryer and different taste, which of course we had to compare with a sampling of jamón. We decided that we prefer the latter -- kind of like comparing fine cognacs -- and our waiter decided that we should also taste an Ibérico chorizo seasoned with pimentón and an Ibérico salami seasoned with black pepper, both on the house. I asked for a caña (a small draft beer ubiquitous at tapas bars) but was told firmly but gently that a caña does not go with Ibérico. So, darn it, I had to have glass of Priorat wine again.

Mindful that the Barcelona-Milan soccer match was probably about to start, we headed back to hotel, only to find the main avenue blocked to allow a Holy Week procession to pass on its way to the cathedral. Three floats depicting Holy Week events were accompanied by several small drum corps, a couple of brass bands, and an octet of wind instruments, plus children and adults carrying torches in the dusk. All participants were elaborately costumed, some in Roman-style tunics and leggings (complete with metal helmets and shields), others in ecclesiastic-style robes, and a few with black pointed hoods that covered their faces except for eyeholes.  Wow. Quite a pageant, and quite an end to our first day in Spain.

We ended up in the pub next door to our hotel, where we watched Barcelona win their match 3-1 to advance to the semifinals for the European Cup. Go Barça! And so to bed.  More adventures await us today, I am sure.

Hasta luego,
Nancy


April 11
Costa Brava
We said a sad goodbye to Brent and Sue as they left for the RENFE train station yesterday afternoon. It is strange to think that they are stateside by now, via Barcelona and New York, and our little apartment seems empty without them.
We bolstered our spirits last night by settling into a little tapas bar/restaurant around the corner (named, oddly enough, Patchwork) with about six tables in each of two rooms, but more importantly with a big-screen tv in each room and an owner who is a Barça fan. The game against Getafe, tenth in the league, started at 9 p.m., and Barça's 4-0 win pushed *them* past Real Madrid into first place. Apologies to all you non-soccer fans. Go Barça!
This morning we picked up our rental car, a gray VW Polo -- cute, comfortable, and easy to drive and park -- and headed out of Girona eastward to the Costa Brava some 20 miles away. This section of the Mediterranean coast stretches from the French border down to Blanes, just north of Barcelona, and is rugged in the north where the Pyrenees come down but has famously beautiful beaches in the south, as many Brits have discovered. The section we explored is in the middle, with both bluffs and beaches (photos to come).
Immediately as we left Girona, we entered beautiful agricultural country, fields decked out in spring green, interspersed by small woodlands, acres of mustard in full bloom lined with brilliant red poppies along the road. Stone farmhouses and compounds were softened by fruit trees laden with blossom. We crossed the coastal hills and descended in Sant Feliu de Guixols, a charming small port town on a tiny bay with a lovely and well-tended beach. There were plenty of small hotels but little evidence of non-Spanish tourists. The clouds over Girona had been left behind and we had glorious sunshine and a mild seaside breeze. Altogether a charming place, and a nice contrast to inland Girona.
We worked our way north through more small towns, some more touristy than others, and a few clearly more upscale in their architecture and infrastructure. Platja d'Aro offered apartment compounds down to the beach itself, and the highway through town was lined with shops, restaurants, shops, cafeterias, and shops. No quaintness here, just your basic beach vacation amenities. We watched a young girl dance for her grandfather on a small plaza. Palamós reminded us strongly of the Monterey-Carmel area of California, though on a smaller scale. On the point of land capping the north side of La Fosca's cove, the remains of a 12th century castle (built atop a Roman villa, itself atop an Iberian settlement) dominated. Alas, I did not get a photo of it. Calella appeared to be the creme-de-la-creme of exclusive settlements, with small estates behind high gated fences.
This is already long, but I have to tell you about our last two discoveries, since both of them were both serendipitous and delightful. We drove up to the headlands south of Calella, just because, and we stumbled upon a botanical garden, the Gardens of Cap (cape) Roig. This must be the Hearst Castle of the Costa Brava, though smaller and less austentatious than the California estate. A Russian aristocrat and his English wife bought the 42-acre property in 1927, built their little castle, and created a beautiful setting consisting of some 1,000 species of plants and open-air sculptures by both Spanish and international artists threaded together with paths crisscrossing the hillsides. There is now an annual music festival on the grounds, and the rest of the year they are open to the public. Now, in early spring, the gardens are beautiful, and the vistas out over the Mediterranean are breathtaking.
Finally, as hunger pulled us back to Girona and we headed inland, we passed one of those little brown signs that pop up in this country and usually lead to fascinating archaeological sites. Ullastret did not disappoint: a major Iberian outpost dating from the 7th century BC(!), the ruins were excavated in the 1930s and are preserved now as part of Spain's heritage. This was a thriving agricultural and trade center for the pre-Roman civilization of the peninsula, which traded with the Phoenicians and the Greeks. The Romans passed by the town, having more interest in their roads further inland at Girona, and Ullastret was abandoned rather than built over. A medieval castle did come along in the 13th century, but it lay lightly on the top of the hill and didn't disturb the ruins under its feet.
It was a fulfilling end to a fulfilling day. We parked our car in the public lot in Girona, and headed for "lunch" at 3:30, discovering a lovely new wine bar a few blocks from our apartment that also serves a full midday meal. I had grilled vegetables and sliced duck breast;  Jerome had a tartine of vegetables followed by a fish whose identity we still don't know except that the name in Spanish sounds like the Japanese maguro, and the waiter said it was related to tuna.
We have rested this afternoon, gone out for a couple of tapas (calamari, minced beef wrapped in a skin of potato, Russian salad), and will call it a day as soon as the laundry finishes.