My first visit to Tossa de Mar was preremtory and there were clouds hanging over from the previous day’s storms. So I decided to go and explore it a little further on a cloudless blue day. I drove the lovely wiggly coast road with delight except for a few ks behind a bus and parked where I had last time and set off towards the older part of town. On the way I came across the Ametllers Roman Villa where there had been a posh house, servants’ quarters, a forum and a whole area devoted to vines and presses to make them into wine. And all a century BCE! There were clear signboards in Catalan, Spanish, English and French detailing the various edifices that would have been on site. There were also some interesting mosaics. It’s not Empuries, that massive site further up the coast near L’Escala, which I’ve visited several times, but it made for an interesting half hour.
I then wandered through the very pleasant old town and approached the castle walls. The knee is doing much better with my various new remedies but I’m still not going all the way up there. Narrow streets, lots of bougainvillaea and interesting shop signage seem to be a feature of most towns with a heritage old centre. Tossa was fun and my meanderings, oddly, led me to a bar near the beach for a restorative beer and then along the beach to a restaurant that – from the language I overheard – was frequented by locals. It proved a good choice and presented me with some freshly carved ham with asparagus and seven absolutely huge and juicy prawns. Tossa in the sun is fun so I’m glad I made a second visit.
Back in Lloret I once again had no need of further food but after packing for an early start tomorrow, I went for a stroll into another part of the resort – still not endearing itself to me – and then ended up in the hotel bar where I thought as it’s my last night, I’d better have a cafe and copa. And on a shelf above the bar I spied my favourite tipple Gran Duque de Alba, a brandy of wonderful smoothness and flavour. I was joined by Isabelle and Bruno, also guests at the hotel, who I’d not seen before, but who insited on chatting to me in French for an hour and exchanging WhatsApp details. I’m sure we’ll have no further contact as we talked about trivial matters and knowledge of Spain but it certainly dredged up reasonably coherent French from somewhere – albeit interspersed with the odd Spanish phrase.
It was an early start to drive to Barcelona Airport and return the car. Google maps said it would take 1 hour 28 minutes so I allowed a little more. Thank goodness. The wonderfully clear roads predicted as I started out soon turned red around Barcelona and I began to panic a little about making the car return and the terminal in time for check in with all the warnings I’d carried from my 90 minute wait to get through passport control on the way in. It didn’t help that RecordGo have places at both terminals and I blindly followed SatNav to the wrong one. A five-minute dash got me to Terminal 2 and I was quickly inside seeking the Ryanair desk.
I did feel a bit fraudulent having asked for assistance on the way out but glad I had, as a wheelchair took me swiftly through a special passport lane and then an 8-person buggy took me straight to the gate where I was the first to board. The flight was on time and my other panic proved unnecessary as I was able to get the Stansted Express to Liverpool Street a bus to London Bridge and a train home. A quick shower and it was back to Stratford East to join Fran for Ava Pickett’s new play Bloodsports. Having not been to a show with Fran for a fortnight before I went off to Spain we now have six evenings in a row in each others’ company. More about the play in the next more leisurely post.
