Biscay to Bordeaux Food for Naught or very close to it.

We left Burgos on a cold wet morning and headed northwest across the high plateau that leads to the north coast of Spain. We crossed the Ebro Valley and through the countless road tunnels that have been delved beneath the Monte Vascos, the Basque Mountains, the western extension of the Pyrenees that eventually becomes the Cantabrian Mountains or Picos de Europe. This unbroken chain of peaks stretches from the Mediterranean all the way to the Atlantic coast. Our destination was San Sebastian on the Bay of Biscay. It is an old fishing village that became a 19^thCentury resort town. It was modelled after the French costal city of Biarritz but there the similarity ends. It may have been established first but Biarritz is an imposter in a cheap suit with a bad haircut compared to San Sebastian. An ageing hooker in stilettos dressed in faux Dior and Louis Vuitton enticing you with sensual perfume and cosmetic looks.

San Sebastian is the real deal. A beautiful costal resort on a sweeping curve of golden sand. The architecture is Spanish Colonial with chiselled stone and wrought iron. The streets are tree lined and the boulevards along the seafront are wide and there are plazas with fountains everywhere. Tucked hard against the eastern hillside that protect the city from the north wind is the much older old port and town. The streets here are narrow but regularly laid out in a grid pattern. The buildings are plain, their stone faces weathered by the march of time time and the wrath of a marine climate, yet still well kept by a proud maritime folk. Here, away from the commercial hustle, there are dozens of local bars, cafes and restaurants. The food, wine and beer are outstanding and virtually every one is packed with customers. Just walk in and see what is lined up along the bar. A profusion of delectable bite size tapas sit along its length. Ask for a plato and pick what your stomach desires. Then choose your drink and pay. A half a dozen tapas, beer and wine for less than 20 Euro. Don't like what you see just try next door or down the next street there will be somewhere to entice you with fresh seafood, cured meats, sausages, omelettes, vegetarian, steak, bbq skewers of chicken, pork or beef. The variety and quality is outstanding.

The city is split by the Urumea River. The main town lies to the west and comprises two beachfronts La Concha and Ondarreta separated by high rocky outcrop on which is built the Miramar Palace, a former royal residence. Across the river to the east is Zurriola beach which fronts the newest part of the town. It is a pretty fair surfing beach given that it fronts the Bay of Biscay and there are plenty of local surfers here who rip just as well as any Aussie. This place is truly awesome. I had hoped for less and ended up with way, way more than I could have imagined. A truly stunning town that is a pleasure to be in.

We stay four days then headed back into France to begin the long diagonal route back to the Rhine and Germany. Bordeaux was our next stop. We have been here before twice. Once on our first trip but we didn't stay long and the second time was just an overnight on the way back to London in a desperate hurry for a medical procedure that is the subject of a previous blog post. This time we stayed four days and loved every minute of it. They say Lyon is a gourmet city and it's true it is. But Bordeaux is a close second or even an equal. This is a great city to embrace. Everything about it is outstanding, the wines, the food, the sights, the transport, the shopping, the sport, the buzz of just hanging out in a bar, cafe or intimate restaurant. Whether in the popular well trodden plazas or some hidden away square by an antiquated gothic church under the shade of ancient trees. Or in a tiny restaurant where the tables are squeezed together like Tetris blocks enjoying a splendid glass of white and the most delicious quiche at ridiculously cheap prices. We didn't try the Croque in case it was better than Lyon's finest. Even the patchy weather, couldn't spoil this place's charm. But all good thing come to an end, even the sunny days and as the rain came down we set off on the long journey across the centre of France.

From Barca to Burgos

We left Barca and headed West across the Aragón basin and along the Ebro Valley to Zaragoza. It lies in the centre of a triangle formed by the Pyrenees to the north and the Sistema Ibérico ranges to the south and east. Along the plain fields that held corn, grain or sunflowers stretch as far as the horizon, the surfaces of which are covered in brown stubble, a reminder of a recent close shave with a combine harvester. Every square centimetre of arable land is utilised. Closer to the mountains there are hillsides of fertile fields fenced and terraced by fate of nature and the hand of man. A haphazard patchwork of offcuts, copper coloured with here and there the green patina of new growth showing through.

Zaragoza like many cities in Spain has had many rulers and cultures shape its destiny. We managed to arrive during one of the most important festivals. We were lucky enough to catch the last two days of the Fiesta del Pilar. The main day is the 12 October which coincides with Columbus Day. There are processions through the street by all the local communities all in traditional clothing. Three generations dressed beautifully, dancing and singing through the centre of town. Castanets clicking, Spanish guitars, Cuban Jazz, Brass Bands, Latin American music it had it all. On Saturday the procession was the Offering of Flowers to the Virgin of Pilar and on Sunday the Offering of Fruits where they offer their typical regional dishes to St. Mary and donate them to charities. The city was packed and everyone had dressed for the occasion. A fabulous weekend.

We headed out on Monday morning for Madrid. The weather had turned, the rain started to fall and the nights were freezing. We were rugged up for our visit but still had a great time here. Madrid is a wonderful city to just get lost and found in. You could spend a month here and still be discovering new hidden corners to explore or just sit and watch the world go by. And if your hungry there is always the San Miguel Market. Just a few Spanish steps away from the impressive Plaza Mayor. Here you will find a veritable cornucopia of delectable fare that would satisfy any hungry traveler. The colours; the flavours; the aromas; the variety; the displays; the hustle; the chatter and the satisfying smiles on the faces of the patrons is heartening. Whether you're a gourmand or just a hungry tourist you'll find a meal to please here. And don't forget the ugly fish at El Señor Martín. Our one disappointment was that Costa has closed its Coffee Shop here.

We left at 8am in the dark and headed North. The sky was threatening but the traffic discarded threats and went straight to unprovoked assault. We were bludgeoned for an hour before it gave up and took its anger out on those left behind us. We had crossed the central mountain range and were heading across the Meseta Central, the massive high plateau of central Spain, before the sky made good it threat. The rain was constant all the way to Burgos.

Burgos is the crossroads of Northern Spain. It was a major waypoint on the Camino de Santiago and the capital city the Crown of Castile. The city was only briefly occupied by the Moors and therefore no real evidence culturally or architecturally can be found here. The old town is a beautifully preserved amalgam of classic medieval buildings and contemporary style store fronts. Because the city was built around the base of a hill overlooking the River Arlanzón its streets are winding and some of its plazas are irregularly shaped. The plaza in front of the cathedral is a bent square but the Plaza Major is quite astonishing in all of Spain, with a long curved side facing three odd angles opposite creating a distorted diamond shape. The riverside of the city is covered both sides with long tree lined promenades, squares, gardens and parks that stretch for over 5 kilometres.This is quite literally one of the most beautiful cities in Spain.

The Other Side of the "C" and Bar-C-lona

We headed around the curve of the Roses Gulf and ended up on the other side of the C or L'Escala as we now call it. This is a very ancient settlement that goes back to the Phoenicians. It was afterwards the Greek port city knows as Emporion. After the fall of Hannibal it became a Roman city. It fell into decay in the Middle Ages and was abandoned. Present day L'Escala lies just to the South of the ruins, which are worth the visit as it is one of the few places in Spain where both Greek and Roman remains can be viewed side by side. Modern day L'Ecala developed from the 18^thCentury as a fishing port that processed salted anchovies. Nowadays it relies on tourism. The water is clean and clear and there are small sheltered inlets fringed by fragrant pine trees  around the southern end that are outstanding.There is even a large Sunday Market that sprawls along the seafront promenade.

Our next stop was to be a “Three-For”. Camp at Llanfranc, then take the short coastal walk to Calella de Palafrugell and then on to the Gardens overlooking Cape Roig, not to mention lunch at the Sant Sebastià Lighthouse. A vision of quiet seaside promenades overlooked by picturesque whitewashed villas leading to outstanding floral bliss spread across a terraced coastal hillside with spectacular views of crystal clear waters of the Costa Brava. Did I also mention lunch at the lighthouse. The vision Crashed and Burned thanks to all the campgrounds closing on the last day of September. One more reason the come back.

We packed up our disappointment and made our way to Barcelona, not only an awesome place to visit but there are now five Costa Coffee Shops there. Heaven in a Cup! Buy a T-10 ticket at the Metro station and go explore. The integrated transport here is brilliant. Bus, Metro, Trains, Funiculars, Trams, everything for one fare within an hour. We wasted no time re-acquainting ourselves with some of our favourite haunts and discovering some new one. Barca is like that, take a wrong turn and find the pleasant surprise of an undiscovered Plaza or a place to just sit and enjoy Tapas and a chilled glass Vino Blanco Seco.

We caught the train to Montserrat again. Margie love this place. The mountains here are unbelievable. The tall weathered bastions that surround the monastery appear like stone giants standing silent guard duty protecting their sacred treasure. The view from up here of the plains below is spectacular and so is the ride up in either the cog railway or the cable car. But the day we went the cloud was so low we were walking in it. We felt sorry for those who had paid for the funicular ride to the top station where on a clear day you can see the entire monastery complex framed against the mountains and the valley below.

Last time we were here we couldn't get into the church to see the Black Madonna because of the crowd. This time we cheated and sneaked in at the head of the queue. The line to walk past the Madonna though was longer than a Disneyland ride on a holiday weekend and cost about as much. We didn't bother. A great day but a cold day and despite the cloud we weren't disappointed.

We went back to Gaudi's Parc Güell and just walked around the upper gardens. The entrance is now changed and they are only letting in a limited number of people each day to the lower complex and you have to book days in advance. The place is under heavy renovation and repair with scaffolding and construction fencing everywhere. Its good to see they are finally looking after the place. When we were here two years ago it was hugely overcrowded. 

To finish our stay we took the funicular to Montjuïc, the mount overlooking the city. Home of the Olympic Stadium, Botanical Gardens and the Catalan National Art Museum. From the heights of forecourt of the museum you look down onto the distant Plaza Espanya and the old bullring that has been turned into a Shopping Mall. We walked down the hundred stairs past the series of normally cascading curtains of water until we reached the bottom and the stood beside the Magic Fountain. Unfortunately due to water restriction the cascades and magic are canceled until further notice. 

We Apologies for the Inconvenience.

From the Rhône to the 'C' via 'D'

Early Saturday morning we walked to the Avignon Bus Station and caught the bus to Uzès, a small village 40 kms to the west. It is an old Roman Settlement that was the source of water for Roman Nimes and the famous Pont du Gard aqueduct to the east of Uzès was part of the supply infrastructure. This small town has had a long and turbulent history for one so small. Gauls, Romans, Jews, Moors, Goths and Cathars have called it home. Its latter day fame was for the fabric Serge which is still used today for making suits and high quality woman's fashion, though the industry no longer exist in Uzès. Its present day fame is for the Market held there every Saturday. 

Local producers of fruit, veg, wine, liqueurs, confectionary, cheeses, cured meats, poultry, beef, pork, flowers, preserves, herbs/spices and essential oils crowd out the central Place aux Herbes and spill out it the spiderweb of streets that radiate from it. Clothes, shoes, manchester, kitchen and tableware are also well represented. The place is packed with customers and window shoppers and it is virtually impossible to get a car space to park in if you come late. We arrived early and sat at a small cafe in the main square and watched the mayhem before diving in. The clamour, the spiels,  the music, the scents and aromas is a heady mix and a wonderful experience not to be missed if you are nearby on a Saturday.

We set off on Sunday our favourite travel day heading South. The plan was to stay overnight in Narbonne, which was only an hours drive. The Aire we picked to stay at was next to the Cultural Centre and across the road from a huge Carrefour Commercial Centre. It was also just a short walk into an interesting city. When we arrived the Aire was gone replaced by the partially constructed new football stadium. So we headed further South and ended up in Collioure, a small French fishing village just north of the Spanish border.

We were here two years ago and it is a beautiful place where you can just relax and chill. The town and surrounding hilltop is dominated by medieval fortresses. The town lies within the perimeter of the Chateau Royal Collioure and directly overlooking the town to the North is the Ancient Fort Miradou which is part of a modern military complex where French Army Commandoes are trained. The day we were there we saw them training in Zodiacs boats in the small harbour and hand to hand combat on the training field as we walked by. It was great just wandering through the cool and colourful streets again. Morning coffee by the harbour is not to be missed and the lunch was amazing and cheap.

We left Collioure and headed along the coast road into Spain. I say road but its more like a paved track on the French side. I'm convince 'D' Road in France means Diabolical. It's Stelvio without the width or elevation. Perilous drops, hairpin bends, blind corners, deformed surfaces and Margie freaking out when a bus or truck was coming from the opposite direction. And if that wasn't bad enough trees and buildings overhanging the road in every seaside village we drove through. Going by the damage it doesn't pay to live in a house on a corner here. We crossed into to Spain and suddenly the roads were better. The way was easygoing from there as the road is fairly straight to our next stop Roses on the Spanish Costa Brava.

This is one of our favourite GoTos in Spain. Its tucked into the northern curve of Gulf of Roses which stretches out like the letter C facing East. The town is nothing spectacular and the only antique structure of note is the ruins of a Renaissance Citadel that houses the ruins of a Medieval Church and a Ancient Greek settlement. The Romans lived on the other side of the C in L'Scala, but that's next week. Roses is a C side resort town with a long promenade on a beautiful bay with a vibrant laid-back atmosphere and great shops, bars and restaurants facing the Med. Great food and wine and a pleasant place to relax. But not in July or August.

We took a boat ride to the small fishing village of Cadaqués which has become famous as a haunt of many notable artist who spent time there, notably Salvador Dali and Pablo Picasso. Whitewash and terracotta dominate the steep landscape and narrow warped cobbled pathways meander through cool shaded alleys to balconies that overlook spectacular views. The surrounding waters of Cap de Crus are a scuba divers paradise. We headed back to our little corner of paradise in Roses and just relaxed until it was time we headed for the other side of the C.