Getting some mileage under our belts: Figueres, Cadaques and East of Girona

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The wheels of old town life kept turning in Girona. And our wheels have definitely still been used!



As a warm up for Cadaqués known climbing, we explored one weekend up the valley from Girona to Adri.



Sant Medir (‘Saint Measure’ says the hiking marker) has a yellow/brown coloured church, in the middle of some current surrounding land works. A large sun dial which looked fairly accurate for mid afternoon was on the front face, the construction of the eleventh century.



A short coasting of the bikes downhill took us to another village and church, of tenth century vintage, in Cartellà.



To top off this valley of churches and old buildings, the following day we went a little higher to Canet de Adri, to ‘Esglesia de Sant Vicenç’, an original from 822AD then redone in the 1500s with the basic structure unchanged. Like a lot of Spanish villages we’ve visited, rural life continued fairly silently but for the quiet protestations of P2 when it came to hills



Anticipating the Cadaqués overnight trip, and it’s critical hill, I’d safely say it was a success in priming P2.



Setting off after the tardy Spanish morning rush hour, we headed on to the big C road to Celrá, a working town for many centuries that now appears as the centre of regional fruit growing.



Deviating off to the north from Sant Joan, Flaca, and nearby Sobranigues, we had a mix of up and down terrain through some lovely countryside. Hitting the G road at Sant Jordi Desvalls, we crossed under the rail road at Mas Masó, to pass Gauses, Vilaur, Tonya, Villamalla and curling our way to our intended stop in Figueres



By then, almost 50km from Girona, we’d arrived with time to spare for our appointed 1pm visit at the Dali museum.



One can see the popularity of this place in the breadth of information pamphlets in various languages. Once in, the impressive patio scene greets you, a blue boat hanging from the ceiling, and many artistic forms arranged around it.



Room to room, it continued. School groups got their introduction to Dali whilst some Europeans perused the content with great concentration and comment. In our cycling gear, cameras slung over the shoulder, we could be, and were judging from the looks received, mistaken for atypical art appreciators.



The hill loomed in our minds. One solution, a panadería, with coffee, for the modest price it always seems to be here.



Fifteen or so kilometres on the flat took us to the edge of the Costa Brava. Skirting the wetland (which we later committed to including the next day), we found our tracks unexpectedly on the Pirinexus trail, that passed behind Roses and Castello d’Empuries. Thank goodness we were not sticking around there long term - it’s a pumped up version of Gulf Harbour merged with resort medium and high rises, wedged cheek to cheek, and two lane highways in and out.



It was no Girona, nor our cup of mint tea.



Interestingly, for all the psyching up P2 wanted for the 8km uphill climb, he pumped his legs such that my photo stops could not quite allow me time to catch up with him.



The summit was a happy moment. Once over that hill though, the chill and loss of sun made for a cool descent into coastal Cadaqués. Like magic (using the power of maps.me) we found our Airbnb



Roger was a great host, and by accessing wifi at arrival, we managed to communicate and be in and unpacked in around ten minutes (unpacked is a word used loosely, traveling with just my front bag and P2s two saddle / bar bags!)



Cadaques entered our itinerary in relation to Salvador Dali. His home at Portlligat was five minutes walk away from the Airbnb, and again, we’d planned our tickets online. If only P2 had read the bold red font when booking, indicating our need arrive half an hour before - so, we had a very understanding ticket lady!



Booking tickets at 11.30pm isn’t always the best time of day.



The scale of this coastal spot is far less flashy or pretentious than we felt in Figueres. In size, and in visitors, it was welcoming and lower key.



Sat on a rocky outcrop, surrounded in olive trees and coastal scrub, looking out to the Mediterranean, the home is a true sanctuary. Dali would treat it as such too evidently, entertaining visitors in his garden, the interior of the home we now saw as being for Gala his wife, and himself, as he painted up a storm.



The studio seems as if he’s just stepped out, and furnishings remain of the time. Incredible vibe and very cool. Until it’s August, according to our guide. BIG sigh!



If only it was a fraction warmer that day, I’d dive into his lap pool, complete with fountains, side pool alcoves, and a water feature dedicated to Pirelli tyres. He had a penchant for white washed plaster walls too, two hands sculpted together in one small area.



The haul home began after our 12pm check out, and taking in some final Cadaqués old town sites.



That hill surprised P2, with the 5km up then 4km steadier grade of climbing, even if we both were passed by some older but very well primed cyclists. Soon we were coasting 8km down, the Pyrenees distant, yet hazy, to our north west.



Skirting the Highway melee of Castelló d’Empuries, we went inland then west then slightly north, catching sight of red roadside poppies, storks, herons and more honed older cyclists really gunning it.



Eventually we got to Vilanova de Muga, our one planned stop. The plaza and cathedral were the usual scene of rural village life - an older women sat on a bench, the river beside it, running slow, and two tourists munching down on the diminishing reservoir of snacks from my front pack. One step lighter to a faster ride, I thought.



Calculating a decent 50km left, I tried to push us swiftly onwards, thinking there could be some delay. Inevitable, my navigation failed miserably at Villamalla, such that we faced a large highway, not country road, soon after. A little quiet cursing later, and we were back on track, to steadily make our way to connect the subsequent dots of navigation to Garrigàs. From there, we definitely knew our way.



Maps.me has been our navigation godsend and P2 deserves a massive back-pat for his background trip research. Not only have I been scarce on time pre-departure, but to now be here, have no appointments or time pressures, the reality of exploring a different place is apparent. If I could only extricate myself from all work emails.



To reward what was a 175km round trip including 2300 metres of climbing, relative R n R was decided.



Choclateria Ecuador €2 chocolate coffee experience. It may say ‘open’ online, but that doesn’t mean the shop owner opens. Attempt one on February 28th was with anticipation, but the shutters were firmly down. Let’s try the next day, the first of Spring. We wandered down, and now serious building maintenance was apparent for the next week.



Fortunately there’s always a panadería, and we could call Casa Moner on Carrer Ballesteries our local.



The rest lasts only so long with me around, and convincingly, we chose to visit two of three medieval villages P2 had identified, east of Girona, by bike.



Els Ángels is a summit ride that cuts out the uncomfortable carretera/ highway to Madremanya, and for around the same mileage, if you’d like to go to ‘El and back. And if we needed more inspiration, a steady stream of mainly fit older cyclists passed both of us, on several twists in this road that ascends around 420m.



By the summit, after the 10km marker, a large group had gathered at the top, ready to descend after their celebratory photo that I ended up taking. I asked the significance of this common greeting “day-o” which I was told was casual cyclist speak for “bike/ ride well”.



It was then that Harry Belafonte came into the scene with his own ‘day-o’ version.



That greeting didn’t compute when we pulled into the one remaining open panadería in Parlavà on a lengthy ride home, needing to reset the ride morale, and the lady called ‘day-o’.



So my Catalán, it’s work in progress.



85km and 1200m under our belts just on today, we’re getting P2 trained (and he’s justifiably proud!), building our cycling patience, gaining good sleep, having some interesting exchanges with people, and certainly appreciating what we see.



The daily chores still go on, but the experience is constantly challenging what you think and know of your own world. That’s the best thing.



Now, to that problematic April and May luggage transfer problem with Nacex I have to sort. In Spanish....

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