The plan today was to take a chunk out of tomorrows stage because its long and hard and because today would be a bit light otherwise. Started off cold but hit 22 by the time I got to L’Escala. I was also going to get back and have a look at the Roman ruins but could not get a taxi. Its Sunday, the locals go out and don’t want to bother with driving around tourists. Just right. But the ruins close at 4.30 so I missed them.
Leaving Sant Pere Pescador. I think my lunch here yesterday is starting to get to me. Or, of course, last night’s dinner. Which, unusually for here, consisted of tiny portions.This is the tiny river that I was going to wade at the beach. Tomorrow’s climbs. The one that looks like a tit is horrendous and the nippley bit is a medieval fortress – Castell del Montgrí. Yep. It happened. The old evacuation on the river bank. Which I thought I had gotten away with until I looked up and a boat which was hidden by the reeds drifted into view. I was done, but they got an eyeful as I hiked up the pantalones.Ploughing through all this agricultural land again towards the coast and that bit sticking up – Montgó.Cinq Claus and a baby church, whose bell was clanging out the hour as I came down the path.Around the corner, and one of the five farms has little doves on the entrance posts. Aw!Sant Marti d’Empuries’ church, and both women and men seem to be wearing that uniform. Choir maybe? The giant bloke has left two of his pawns behind again.The sea at last. To much of this inland stuff going on and more of it tomorrow. L’Escala approaches.The Roman breakwater. Big Roman town was here.A nice bit of boardwalk. But this usually means – people.A quick and pretty poor shot of the ruins. Christ! Every Pedradino and her uncle are promenading along here, out for their Sunday. I’m having to constantly weave through them. Don’t like it.Was he vandalised, or did they do him like that. I think they did the boat stuff here in 1992.Only the outskirts. Place is bunged, apart from the beaches. Where do they all go when the tourists are cacking up the place in the summer?Looking back the Gulf of Roses which I’m nearly all the way round.Loving the lunch time jazz band.L’Escala proper. Long old hack around this bay. then lunch.Nope. No idea. Surprised it hasn’t been defaced by some English yobs. Looking back at L’Escala. Market day and all the vans in Catalunya are in the square.And then, one or two boats.Aha! The Spanish did build 2nd world war coastal defences. Not much point, though, if you’re staying neutral.Oh look! A wee bit of cliff to finish the day off.Montgó. F’ing Google translate gets nothing right. I’m trying to tell the taxi people Montshow, like it says. Man in hotel says Mont go, just like it looks.Cool pine forest and the crowds have pissed off. To far out for them.22 and the sun shining and not a soul in this apartment block’s pool. Love a swim. Was going to fit one of those in as well. NVM.Roses etc. on the other side of the gulf and on the far right, the nearly death cliffs of peril. Montgó and a cliff path that is also fraught with peril. According to the condescending German, “… may require some courage.” He’s probably a tight-rope walker in his spare time. Fucker! What a start to tomorrow that will be.Well can he? Must ask at next Sunday dinner.
Who’d have thought that people would want a day off. Things didn’t go to plan. Didn’t get a swim, didn’t get to the Roman ruins. Did take five miles out of tomorrow’s total though, which should give me plenty of time to find my courage – might take an hour or so if the path is really bad. Hope to blog to you tomorrow.
