Exploring the North and South of Girona; pushing the push bike further

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It’s said time passes faster with age? And I’d add, experiences.



Approaching 4 weeks here, the noticeable change in temporary population reinforces that the Spanish off season is definitely the preferred time. We imagine Barcelona would be intense all year round.



Girona has a lot of architecture and tourist attraction to boast, so, on a fairly quiet Monday morning, we headed to the nearby Arab baths. We made an about-turn immediately after a big school group entered, being only four rooms big.



Later in the day around 6pm, we passed and enquired, to find a quiet haven, without anyone else. In we went.



It may have been grey / grim / artistically ‘moody’, but you’d easily conjure up visions of bathers, moving through the changing rooms, frigidarium, tepidarium / flotarium, and calidarium all generated from a now neglected underground thermal heat source.



The whole edifice began life around 1000 years ago when King Alfons gave some of his income from the baths to an adjoining institute linked to the cathedral. It experienced some damage in a city siege in the 1200s after which some reconstruction occurred, then passed through several sets of hands (for religious bathing purposes, or private use) that only ended up in the local councils hands by the early 1900s.



Now it sits proud and cared for at the base of the castle, and is a popular home in the surroundings for the smallest and possibly liveliest residents of Girona, the pigeons!



But at 2am in the morning, when other vocal residents repeatedly shout from the streets, heard through our ineffective double glazed windows, and the narrow corridor acting as an amplifier, they’re excellent competition.



The old town in all its age is fascinating. The density of population is typical of these quarters; there’s no car parking, the streets are very narrow, you can see your neighbours or offices across the road on the same floor, we live in a 20ish square metre unit, and the rooftop is an underrated place for gardens, washing drying or just absorbing the view.



Water is very drinkable too and The Onyar runs fairly clear through the town, to P2s fluvial interest.



However, water is precious, so I was told when it came to front loader operations, and a frank discussion with our Airbnb host. Our washing habits with dirty cycling or active pursuits (and not being run-of-the-mill overnight stayers) prompted a chat, and so we now contribute to reportedly higher than usual water supply charges.



Unlike the Romans perhaps, second or third daily washing hereon in it is!



So, breaking tradition, I’ve swim twice in nearly four weeks here. The local heated pool, Piscina Municipal de Santa Eugenia, charges a pricier than usual $12NZD for basic entry, but once inside you’re amongst the throng of slow-medium-fast swimmers in the usual pattern. Perhaps water costs are the reason this place is priced up.



And ‘up’ was too the theme of P2s cycle route to Santa Coloma de Farners recently. A mapometer check revealed a terrain that was initially undulating, with a final push up a questionable but likely unsealed road. The purpose was to see a restored 11th Century castle, set amongst the rocks and foliage, and towering above the town.



Easily riding to Bescanó on the riverside path west of Girona, we then started the ascent to Estanyol over a nasty surprise of a hill, that rose (hindsight is a grand thing....) 250 metres in about 4 kilometres. We coasted down into a strong headwind, as facing the elements on a bike isn’t an excuse to give up!



On to the C road, we made good work of the remainder 16km to Coloma. Met by gusts of wind whipping up a dust storm next to a large logging yard, we held our noses and pressed on. It was sneezes and sore eyes for me.



Passing through town, we started heading out on the G road west, when we passed a small tree nursery, luckily coinciding with P2s navigation plan. “Up this road”, and once over a little bridge, we were met by a very fast and very fit looking Catalán man speeding downhill on his heavy duty mountain bike. This was the ‘correcto lugar’ but the trail was ‘duro’. P2 knew that word well.



Up we went. It became a dusty, heavily rutted, and steep goat track. How did the yellow man on Google maps, spotted the night before with a drone and vehicle online, get his car up here? Two kilometres more or less later, we reached a red marker on a tree, when the app maps.me then came into operation again, guiding us the final steps, the back route, involving walking to the castle. We climbed up to it, passing very few non athletic looking people, and all became clear.



The road missing from our navigation was smoothly graded but about thrice as long. It was called a ‘carretera’, extending its usual meaning!

Nonetheless, what goes up eventually goes down, and after having lunch with the castle completely to ourselves, we began a slow, safe descent.



By now, the howling wind that was whipping up a sonic frenzy at the castle was behind us. 15kph became 20kph without pedalling, so by 3:15pm we were in Bescanó, without much café choice, but within half an hour of home. Prospects of panadería purchases for P2 looked up.



I’d anticipated the effort:reward scenario from this day, and rightly so in this town, we ended it with a booking I’d made at Aqua Banys baths, near Carrer de Galligants. The Roman bathing theme and equivalent price has this place very well rated. So, for the next few hours we rotated between ice scrub, pebble walk-shower, steam room, sauna, and three temperatures of soaking. Head back, and eyes shut; nearly all those worries melted away.



Loose and relaxed, it was perfect sleeping conditions that night.



The more we live here, rather than just pass through, the more we observe, and some gritty topics linger in our discussions, more than others, especially compared to NZ. Driven for some academic insight, and chucking the idea around of observation at a local health facility, I started to consult the WHO (World health organisation) and CDC (Centres for disease control) websites. I wanted information.



Heavy smoking and alcohol consumption seem to be present amongst a small proportion, with the usual lifestyle correlates, and regional differences in Spain exist regarding a big focus on reducing cardiovascular disease (data mentioned Valencia and Extremadura specifically). Some statistics put Sweden, Iceland, Australia and the USA as having the lowest smoking rates at around 14% (like NZ), compared to over 30% smokers here.



Laws do differ slightly to NZ, but interestingly, Spain apparently boasts the second best life expectancy in the OECD. The secret surely isn’t tobacco, and when you see parents exhaling smoke around children, or pregnant woman, it’s a tad worrying. Must be the olive oil instead?



Best save those questions for the World Congress in two months or this could get to be a very grim travel story.



With all the people now infiltrating town, and being March, the Mossos (Catalán police) appear very present with a few blitzes. Stopped by a warden after dismounting my bike in the old town recently I was asked my preferred language in regards to cycling behaviour. Ironically, he launched into fast pace Spanish when I asked for ‘English’, and shoved a pamphlet in my hand stating The Rules. I vowed to ‘leer’ them, but willed that he would stick around longer than a busy weekday to see the numerous breaches. P2 spotted two American riders stopped going the wrong way up a one way old town street, and the police car mounting the kerb to make their point clear.



So, rules might be broken by locals or lucky ones, like the prolific graffiti / statements of Catalán society, but for us, we’ve decided it’s safer to walk from our door with bikes when it comes to the cycling regulations!



With nearly 3 weeks remaining in Girona we’ve compiled a list of must dos. Some fading as less, and some shining as more important, usually determined by how far it is to ride there!



Many times I’ve climbed the hill to Madremanya via Cassa de la Selva, of which the Volta Cataluña is fast approaching in a fortnight and using that route. So, there’s been plenty of local and overseas groups training, with their full kit and caboodle and serious looking support vehicles. Plus the many locals doing their grind up either of the hill side regularly, one whom I ended up riding with yesterday. Turns out his niece is a physiotherapist at the The Girona Clinic, he lived a while in Mexico with his Mexican wife, and I can vouch that in his early 60s, climbed and rode better than me.



“I want what he’s had”, said P2 today as we climbed another hill, returning from beautiful Banyoles.



This lake to the north of Girona hosted a rowing trials regatta for the weekend, so it was heaving with people, but with so many paths or roadways, we eventually found our quiet spot for a picnic beside the super clean looking water. Shame that swimming is prohibited outside July to September.



Now we can speak more knowledgeably about the northern area towards the Pyrenees, especially since overcoming the N-II road fear I’ve had since arriving, used to get over a multi carriageway junction and the main river (Ter), to the quiet roads yonder. The fast single lane road, at times double lanes with a wide shoulder, was far more pleasant on the Sunday we rode to Banyoles at my insistence, because, there’s NO TRUCKS!



The pay off was a busy Banyoles.



In contrast, a weekday trip to Sant Metges church, off the north N-II, that we’d always spotted from the C road to Celrá atop a cliff, was deserted. You’ve got 11/12th century here, Neolithic dig there, and it’s all incredibly old and mind blowing for what we can compare of at home.



Ravos del Terri, Tomet, Vilamari, Cornellà de Terri, Vilopriu are being added to the eastern and western areas I’ve pedalled to, but still we’ve more to tick. Radio Tres keeps pumping out of P2s phone, as we pour over the app maps.me, with me providing encouraging words to explore the physical plane, and pain, a little more for the sake of a panadería.



After all, if 60 plus year olds out shine us, what’s to lose.



Guaranteed there’ll be thigh soreness and hill frustration to contend with, but, being each others live-in massage/ quadracep torture therapists, we will cope!

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Photos

Castell de Farners
A 2km push of the cross bike uphill