We left Rosas rested and in high spirits with Port La Nouvelle ahead for the days journey. We motorcycled past lush villas and rich green vegetation – cacti were growing from the mountainside. The sun was brilliant and we were thrilled to be catching some ‘rays’ as we wound our way through little Spanish villages. We happened upon a little market in the quaint coastal town of Portbou. It’s market day – which means locals shopping. We found a spot to park and off we went in search of a treasure or two – eying wallets, sweaters and ladies dresses. We found a Peruvian stall where we bought a little purple sweater that captured our attention for our little lady back in Canada.
A little shopping worked up our appetite and we found street vendors that sold half chickens for five euros, fresh ‘frites’ and hot churros to dunk in chocolate. We took our culinary booty to the beach and greedily consumed every bite. A moment of sheer pleasure.
I looked up the mountain, turned to Cecil and said ‘is this necessary?’ My Beloved, not wanting to be the bearer of ‘it is what it is’, simply said, ‘I think so…’ in his soothing non committal manner. So we reluctantly (at least this passenger) walked toward the bike to prepare for our ascent into the heavens over the Mediterranean. As we climbed – precious Portbou became a tiny dot on the coastline. I purposed to continue with my commitment to photojournalism even though it felt like we were driving into the sky with no landing spot in sight. I photo’d pictures of Spanish villages and turquoise ocean. These were all sights I was so privileged to behold.
I wasn’t feeling well with the twists and descent and My Beloved gave me a brief reprieve in Cohere, France. This is a prim seaside town with little cafes overlooking an ancient castle and a small cove. We refreshed with fruit smoothies and collected ourselves. Reflecting on the ride, this is absolutely true – U-shaped turns, motorcycles and tour busses have a difficult time collaborating.By the time we are ready, a little resolve returned and we journeyed on, stopping at vista points, photographing others and being photographed.
We had to get off the highway to reach Port La Nouvelle – it seemed so strange – abandoned houses locked up, buildings falling down – are we really going somewhere? When we reached it – Port La Nouvelle reminded me of Wasaga – wide, flat with incredible winds whipping sand around everywhere. Apparently it is windy 300 days a year – and the sand goes in any available orifice.
Our resting place for the night was Hotel Mediteranean – it looked like going to your grandfather’s house – weird colours in the hotel and all chopped up like a Mad Hatter’s maze, but gloriously (and soon to find out strategically) located on the seaside. We check for the bed to be clean – check – then decided to walk the beach and figure out what to do for dinner.
Meandering around the town we realized that something was about to happen when the police barriers went up and staging was built – a street festival! This is going to be interesting! We mustered moules (mussels) and pizza for carry to balcony – and settled in to watch the show. Incredible musicians and we were dancing and laughing on our balcony. My face felt like it was breaking we were laughing so hard at some of the players below on the street.
Feeling the need for café latte and more churros before leaving the area – we walked through the burgeoning crowds and took in all the music offerings street level. We came to a sleepy seaside town on the one day it was alive with the sound of music. We went to sleep with the sounds of accordion, voice, guitar while the ocean winds blew into the room.
Ahhh…..the simple life when you are okay with quirky!
For the grand total of $76.00 we had an amazing food, shopping day 🙂