4 LEAVING BARCELONA AND REACHING THE CÔTE D'AZUR

At the beginning of this week (05/06/23), I was still in the Barcelona area. Dan was leaving and Cam was arriving later that evening – super excited! In the daytime, Dan and I caught the shuttle from the campsite into the centre and we walked around the Gothic Quarter looking for silly souvenirs to remember our time in Barcelona. However, we ended up ditching the shopping to have an ice-cold coke in the sun instead.

We then went to a very busy Barcelona beach to work on our tans until Dan had to catch his bus scheduled at 4pm. Unfortunately, by the time we realised what time it was, he was already late. We legged it across Barcelona and got there 10 minutes quicker than google maps had estimated. We were so proud of ourselves. Annoyingly, his bus was late anyway. Silly public transport. After dropping Dan off, I caught the train back to the campsite. I worked on the blog, tidied Bert and made dinner all in time for Cam’s arrival.

At around 9:30pm, I drove 45 minutes south to Barcelona airport to pick up Cam. This is when I was reminded about one of Bert’s little quirks – the lights on the dashboard do not work making it impossible to read the speedometer and/or any warnings when it’s dark. Thankfully, my phone torch was sufficient and not only did I make it there in one piece, I collected Cam from arrivals and returned us both back safely to the campsite. It was so lovely to be reunited!

In the morning, we wasted no time and caught the 10:30am bus into Barcelona. We walked past all the sights: Casa Batlló, the Sagrada Familiar, the Mercado de La Boqueria and finally through the Gothic Quarter towards the beach. As you can see, I have no photos from this day as I had visited all these sights at least twice and Cam wasn’t looking photogenic enough clearly. Having walked rather than cycled or use the metro, our legs were aching and so we decided to head back to the campsite a little earlier than anticipated. Following a couple of very necessary hours chilling by the pool, we had dinner which consisted of various salamis we’d bought from the market, as well as a heavily buttered baguette.

Although we had intended on spending another day in Barcelona, we decided to move on as it was getting hotter and we felt our time would be better spent outside the city. So, we left the campsite and went to a skatepark north of Mataro. It had a pump track and a nice little park next door. Fortunately, no one else was there so we had the whole park to roam. I ollied over a bottle for the first time so I was super happy! We moved on, continuing north towards another skatepark which we left almost immediately as it was a bit rubbish. However, 10 minutes from there was a huge park - there was so much space that I finally got a break from talking to Cam. We had a really good time, so much so that we were there for hours.

After tiring ourselves out, we drove to a place called Cala Marquesa Aigua Xelida having been recommended it for its snorkelling. The beach itself was a tiny cove hidden amongst a coastline of tiny coves. It was really pretty and regardless of the overcast weather, we had a lovely snorkel just off the beach. After cooling down, we headed towards a spot to camp that we had found on Park4night. Essentially, it was an abandoned road with giant potholes and although it was only 500m from perfect tarmac, it seemed to go on for miles. Upon arriving at the spot, relieved to have completed the cavernous road, we found that there were two vans already taking up the spot, forcing Bert to return along the sketchy road with nothing other than suspension trauma. Fortunately, we found another spot close by in the sleepy town of Begur, where we set up camp, made burgers and relaxed.

The following morning, we packed up, ate breakfast, argued over the placement of a wet towel, and headed north towards the town of Cadaqués. When researching things to do on the Costa Brava, this place seemed to come up a lot. We now know why; it was a really beautiful area and unlike anywhere I had visited before. We walked from the nearby town of Port Lligat (famously where Salvador Dalí lived for some time) to the Far de Cap De Creus – an underwhelming lighthouse with incredible views. The walk itself was lovely, taking us along the coastline - making the sea look particularly inviting as it was so hot. Once we reached the lighthouse, I ate lunch watching Cam build a stone pile for twenty minutes, before we returned to Bert. Altogether, the walk was around four hours and I would highly recommend. We then found a cove around the corner to Port Lligat, where we spent a couple of hours relaxing on the beach, taking regular dips to cool down and doing some snorkelling.

In the evening, we got all dressed up (not) and walked to the main town of Cadaqués. Here, we had a drink on the waterfront and continued to walk to a restaurant we’d read about online. We arrived at around 7:15pm, forgetting that restaurants here don’t generally open until after 7pm. So, for the entire meal, we were the only people there. However, we did conclude that another contributing factor to its emptiness could’ve been that it wasn’t on the waterfront, making it slightly forgotten amongst the dozens of restaurants sharing the seafront. The meal itself was really nice – I’ll insert photos but essentially it was a lot of grilled fish and salad. We thoroughly enjoyed. We walked back to Bert, full and ready for a good night’s sleep at the beach spot we’d found.

Once again, neither of us had a good night’s sleep. The van was getting unbearably hot at night, especially in the last couple of days when temperatures have begun to soar above 28 degrees. Therefore, one of our missions today was to find a fan.

To start our day right, we obviously had to spend twenty minutes on the phone to Admiral attempting to put Cam on Bert’s insurance. Cam then went for a snorkel where he allegedly saw a two-foot-long cuttlefish which I do not believe for a second but it made him happy to what could I say? Truthfully I’m just massively bitter that he did not get my attention to come in the water to see it.

We then headed west to a skatepark in the town of Figueres, not far from the French border. We arrived to find a pretty sketchy park in an ugly area. So, I found another one on google just past the French border in a tiny town called Tresserre. It was an unlikely place to find such a good little park (and brand new), but we ended up spending the whole afternoon there. It had incredible views and with a mini ramp, I was happy (although I did get into a little strop because I couldn’t get something but oh well). Ultimately feeling content, we left the park and drove to a town called Gruissan. On the way, we did a big shop and eventually found a place selling fans. Our investment was immediately worthwhile, because that night, we encountered (and survived!) our first thunderstorm.

We arrived in Gruissan at an Aire de camping (which are similar to campsites but the facilities are generally limited unlike most campsites) where we initially had a language barrier issue because I didn’t know the word homologate in French – to clarify I didn’t even know what it meant in English let alone my limited French. Anyway, after the woman lost her patience with me because I had absolutely no idea what homologate meant, we were allowed to enter to what I can only describe as a gravel carpark with a hole in the ground as a toilet and a swamp as a carpark space. We set up Bert’s awning over the boot in order to cook without getting drenched or struck by lightning. This later proved to be a mistake as after we’d finished cooking, we had nowhere dry to store the awning and ended up stuffing it underneath the van which soon became a small paddling pool. Nonetheless, we continued our evening snug in Bert (with our new fan which was a godsent as the van was unbelievably humid) and watched the impressive thunder and lightning pass over us.

In the morning, we woke up pleasantly surprised that the swamp we had fallen asleep in had drained. However, now rid of that problem, another one arose. We couldn’t find Bert’s keys. We spent almost an hour searching the van and I had even gone back to the dreaded receptionist to ask in my best French if any keys had been handed in. Unsurprisingly, she just nodded and said no quite bluntly. Finally, I found the keys in Cam’s bag where he’d placed them this morning. By the way, this was after he’d dropped both of our pillows in the only muddy puddle surrounding the van. Neither of us were best pleased but the relief I felt that the keys were not lost outweighed any anger I had towards Cam and the situation.

Freed of the insanity that is losing your keys, we explored the pretty town of Gruissan – only briefly as truthfully there isn’t too much to see. We nosed around the market and went up the Château de Gruissan which should really be advertised as the remains of the Château de Gruissan because it is just a bit of stone at the top of a hill. Regardless, the town was very nice and as a short stop, it was worth the visit.

We then left to make a drive down memory lane because we were visiting Portiragnes, the village where my parents used to own a house. Some of my earliest memories go back to Portiragnes and having not been back since I was around five, I was really keen to visit. Once we arrived the smell of the fields surrounding the house alone evoked certain recollections; a huge sense of nostalgia. After staring at the house and walking around a little, we then went to beach not far from the town, where I also have a lot of memories. One notable one being; the time there was a firework show display so uncontrollable it set a house on fire and caused me years of phonophobia.

Anyway, moving on from the trauma, we set-up on the beach and relaxed - again taking regular dips as it was very hot. We then drove to a supermarket to do a shop before arriving at our camping spot for the night: a carpark for a cemetery in Aigues- Vives. It was a really beautiful spot, surrounded by fields of vines and pretty French countryside. Having eaten our dinner, we went for a walk around the village which, for a Saturday night, was a little vacant. It was on the walk that Cam felt his back was a little hot. We then realised he’d burnt his back pretty badly, creating an unfortunate (but hilarious) tan line.

The following morning after breakfast and washing-up of course, we drove to the picturesque city of Arles on the Rhône River. It is famous for being the basis of several Vincent Van Gogh paintings, including the painting of the hospital. After staring at some very interesting structures: the amphitheatre, the Catholic church and Luma Arles art museum – all of which were definitely worth seeing. Although having said that, I’m reaching the point where most French churches are beginning to merge into one stony dark room. To finish our time in Arles, we had a scoop of fruity sorbet each to help us cool down.

Avoiding the midday heat, we drove to our next destination: Aix-en-Provence. We decided to stay at another aire de camping as I’d read that cities in the south of France are prone to car break-ins. One of the reviews of this particular camping spot labelled it as ‘organic’ so I knew that we were in for an interesting ride. Firstly, as we pulled-up to the campsite, an old man with an amputated leg in a wheelchair greeted us with open arms and a large smile holding tightly onto a wacky cigarette. Following closely behind Hubert was a significantly younger woman Jennifer, who we have later found to be his wife. They were very accommodating, allowing us to park in a spot with trees to shelter Bert from the sun. They even said that although this is not a campsite but an aire de camping, we were free to use their toilet located inside their house. Indeed, this did mean entering through their living room, past their kitchen down to the bathroom which, to give you an idea of the kind of people Hubert and Jennifer are, had a toilet roll holder with a built-in ashtray. I didn’t even know these existed.

The ‘organic’ camp spot was around a 45 minute walk to the centre of Aix-en-Provence, which was undoubtedly the nicest city I have been to so far. Every building just oozes money and fast-food chains and Primark were not to be seen. The squares throughout the city were full with outside seating, and it generally had a lovely atmosphere. I was less amused however when we did sit to have a drink and one lemonade and one coke came to cost €7.80. I was less happy with that. We then headed back to the campsite and chilled before another mighty thunderstorm came in to ruin our cooking plans.

SUMMARY

Cam arriving has been really lovely, despite all his stuff ruining the layout I had gotten use to in Bert! Joking aside, we’ve had a really great first week together and a personal highlight for me has got to be watching Cam in social situations that involve him interacting in Spanish/French. Who would’ve thought he’d be so English! Anyway, thanks again for reading and join us next week where we explore the Côte d'Azur!