Blog 2.6 - It's Warm!

Thursday 27th April 2023

Girona it is then.

Keeping with the theme of Short Hops, we pottered very gently, via the Roses Carrefour for some much-needed comestibles, to the outskirts of this surprising city.

And what a pleasant surprise it was.

The aire we chose is just a dusty expanse, belted by roads so a trifle noisy, but entirely free and eminently acceptable. Busy though, reflecting Girona's popularity I suppose.

Arriving fairly early (that short hop mentality y'see) almost guarantees a spot, but there weren't too many around the periphery where I'd rather be so we were happy enough to find a corner plot. It had its downside - being right next to the access/egress point that everyone uses on their foot- and bike-way to the city, but accept that and it's fine.

We slipped out that way ourselves once settled, crossed the main road, and immediately found ourselves on the tracks of a large and wooded nature area which borders the city's main river and much of the modern residential and university areas.

Eventually, after much twisting and turning, the river bridge appeared and we headed across into town. This side is mostly residential and educational, as alluded to already, but bounded by a further huge green area, tree-planted, with walking avenues, and interspersed with play- and sports-spaces. Plenty of places to sit and rest a wee while too, which is appreciated as it's definitely hot and dusty today.

Finally making it as far as the secondary, tributary, river of the city, we crossed a footbridge which delivers one, via a tunnel passage into the mediaeval part of the city - and what a contrast!

It's lovely. Dominated by the Basilica and the Cathedral as expected, the city's streets are a maze of grand and not so grand buildings stacked one against the next in a most appealing fashion.

We popped into a shop for drinks, picked a bench in the shadow of the Basilica, and soaked it all up (cold Coke and atmosphere).

The Basilica (I never miss a chance to visit a church, large or small. I'm not remotely religious but there's a peace to be found) is relatively compact, yet richly ornamented. To be honest, I prefer my churches to be less gaudy; more like my 'own' St. Nicholas. This one is a collection of niches, chapels, around a central nave, and most are slightly over-adorned for my taste.

However, it's good value - yes, you have to pay, but the €8 ticket also includes entry to the nearby cathedral and the adjacent Art Museum, so I have no quarrel with that.

The walk back to the van was long and tiring, but mostly through a different green wooded area, so pleasant enough.

I was mildly surprised on checking my Map my Walk app, though, to find we'd covered very nearly six miles. No wonder me plates o' meat felt well and truly rogered.

Friday and Saturday

Moving on time, and yet another hop and short skip to a small inland town aire that Admin had cannily found on Park for Night.

What a belter. Everything is free here, including electric hook-up, and it's even in a very pleasant wooded space just five minutes walk into the old town of Caldes de Malavella - which is a cracking little place.

It's the site of several hot springs - all of which you can just walk up to and open the taps! Apparently it's potable water too, but I didn't check by actually glugging it.

There are excavated Roman baths here too. Sadly, not filled - and I can't help but think they're missing a trick, although the necessary renovations would rather obliterate the antiquity.

So that's the 'hot water' part (I'm conflating Caldes with caliente here, but I'm probably totally off beam), but there's still the Malavella part of the name.

That's her. The one in black

Malavella, apparently, was a witch, and on the last weekend of April the good, and otherwise, denizens of Caldes gather to see her off again - cos she keeps coming back, raising her finger at the end of the festival to signify that she's returning in a year's time.

It's a good ruse for a good knees-up, and it seemed rather enjoyable, if somewhat noisy (as expected) until the early hours.

We'd turned up to the aire on Friday afternoon to be told that we'd be blocked in until Sunday, but we were quite happy with that.

Sunday

After the morning pre-flight chores, and a pleasant chat with our next door neighbours, who were from Girona, and spoke excellent English, we headed off slightly further inland, and uphill, and into some weather.

We pulled into yet another free aire - no electric this time though - at Sant Hilari de Sacalm, which rests some 2600ft or so high above the coastal plain.

Walking the shortish distance into town we'd packed the gamps, which proved prudent.

We selected one of several open eateries for lunch, and it was a pretty nifty choice, with the beers and the paellas being excellent.

As we stepped away after our repast though, we were immediately greeted by the pit-pat of rain beginning to dampen the dust.

And boy, did it dampen it! We walked into the open-sided, but covered market place - still being cleared after the morning's trading - just in time for the heavens to open.

Mediterranean rain never ceases to amaze me. You can go weeks or months without a drop, then, boom! Literally this time as the almost monsoon conditions were accompanied by thunderous claps.

We were so glad of the brollies, but didn't even risk it until the deluge had virtually subsided.

Going in search of coffees, we waited out the last of this particular stanza of rain, and then pottered back to the van, only to be greeted by several circled wagons (fortunately on the lower part of the aire) and a very loud party under way. Much flamenco, singing, and generally very loud - seemingly fractious at times - voices.

We were just hoping it wasn't a portent of the evening to come, but we weren't planning on staying more than one night anyway.

Still, as we sat in the van the skies were rent once more. Thunder, lightning, more torrential rain, and hail.

It was heavier than it looks here!

Couldn't hear another thing through all that! Deep joy...

And I think the afternoon's excesses had probably already got to them and they were likely all snoring and farting quite peacefully in their collection of, ahem, vintage autocaravanas. Bless.

We played the almost obligatory game of Fives and Threes, ate spit-roasted chicken and potatoes (excellent; purchased at the market earlier on and warmed in the Omnia oven) watched a bit of garbage on the telly and were just about to retire, when...

Heavy diesel noises. Flashing orange lights. Many Orelly Men in hi-vis kit.

WTF?

We were parked quite close to the recycling bins, and yes, the town council evidently sees fit to send out said Orelly Men to empty said bins, at 11.15pm. Eleven fifteen post meridien.

You have to be kidding. Getting Hinckley and Bosworth's finest Wheeled Refuse Receptacle Manipulation Executives out once a fortnight on a Friday morning is a bleddy achievement!

Ah well; they were fairly quick, and reasonably quiet I suppose. Fair play.

Monday

Time to flit.

Just a very short one again, still on higher ground, to the village of Viladrau.

The aire, though, is a total rip-off, charging us (for 24 hours, water, dumping, and electric hook-up) €4. How do they get away with it?

Seriously, this is a very nice aire, with a splendid outlook in what appears to be a pretty village.

However, being May Day, most places are closed, so we'll just have to slum it here, reading, drinking, eating, sleeping - and listening to the distant thunder - until tomorrow, when we'll explore, and probably decide to stay a second night.

Visitor

Tough life.

Mileage so far: 1957