A short day but, it seemed, a never ending series of upz and downz and ins and outs. Weather is still lovely but I wonder if I have just jinxed it. I have had the pleasure, in the main, of not hearing any British, or more specifically, English accents while on this trip. The Costa Brava at this time of year is populated with the French and they appear more refined. Tonight, while putting this together, I am at dinner in the hotel restaurant and having to suffer the nail screech of Landin geezers braying loudly over each other. Christ! It is appalling. I actually feel like leaving but I’d have to walk. No wonder they are despised the world over.
Palamós, now in daylight. I have to round that point in the distance.Maybe this one was dredged from the bottom of the sea. Oh look! Someone has fed it a croissant for brekkie.The tears of the ocean? Nope. Erected to honour all the blood donors of the town.Two faced Tessie from Tallapoosa.
.And now. A man with a Bonsai tree.Leaving, finally. Two miles long that beach front.A slim, tall and elegant tower. Sort of like me in my prime. Ha! And a raised path. Wow. I don’t know myself.It disappeared at the end though, where the sea chomped it.The path doesn’t care that the tide’s in. Maybe it never has been before. (Topical global warming dig.) Scrambling over the wet rocks, very dicey.Looks like a bit of this is hanging on for grim death after being repaired already.The old Platja d’Aro still many bays away. You can’t see these coming. Bays within bays. Fractal baby.Tunnelling through rather than up and down. What a brilliant idea.And now an Italian style loggia.The loggia leads to this one. Platja Cala Gogo.The next huge resort town at Platja d’Aro.One bird looks guilty and one rabbit looks evil. But keeps the graffiti away.The beach de nudists. I’ll keep my eyes closed as I tramp across. Erroneous bosoms are dangerous at my age.You can just see the high-rise hotels of Palamós in the far distance.Very nice paths round this bit, S’Agaró, Carrer Josep Ensesa.The hotel is somewhere around the middle of the Platja de Sant Pol, below the white buildings rising up the hillside.The Gaudi-esque loos etc. all weird angles, which I haven’t captured very well. The door is square and level.
I was going to do some extra today so that tomorrow would be easier but decided against it. Yesterday took a lot out of me. So, a good rest and a good night’s sleep with no baby screaming will set me up for the longest and highest section of the trip to come.
