You might remember from my last post (Glamping in Tamarit) a little talk about the ancient Spanish port city of Tarragona.  Believe it or not, nobody actually knows when Tarragona was established – it’s literally THAT old.  Historians believe the city was likely founded by the Phoenicians who named it Tarchon or Tarraco (citadel) because it is slightly elevated above the sea.  However, the Catalans believe the city was named after Tarraho, the great-grandson of Noah, renown ark-builder extraordinaire.  Regardless of its origins, Tarragona has phenomenal history, much of which has been preserved and/or carefully restored, and is frequently decorated and celebrated by locals and tourists alike.  In fact, the many Roman ruins that fill this city have all been declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site. When you stand in the citadel and gaze over the massive amphitheater and toward the sparking blue Mediterranean Sea, it is extremely easy to see why the Romans would have named this their capital Iberian city and why, even today, it is the capital of its own province, Tarragona.   At the end of this busy day, I had the same type feeling I have on Thanksgiving afternoon – sated almost to the point of discomfort from gorging on the smorgasbord laid out in front of me. My Tarragona holiday, however, was less gastronomic in nature. It was more of a visual, mental and physical experience; although I did end up rubbing my belly in the warm sunshine. Some things are universal, I guess.  

Our tour of Tarragona started on the most beautiful and sunny day we could ask for in the very early Spanish springtime.  As we are wont to do, without any planning or forethought, we somehow magically discovered a parking garage (PAVAPARK) located immediately underground below the Ajuntament (Town Hall) and in the very center of the medieval Old Town itself.  ¡Perfecto!  From there, we were easily able to explore the entire area, inclusive all the Roman ruins, churches, circus, amphitheater, forum, fountains, and many shops and restaurants, on foot and without any great physical investment (although the trip down to the amphitheater was admittedly easier than the trip back up).

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We left Plaça de la Font and headed northwest towards Via de l’Imperi Romà, starting our excursion with the Portal Del Roser, a massive, lavish portal in the medieval walls that provided entrance to the city from the west through the Torre de l’audiencia (gate).  From here, we were clearly able to see the enormous stone Muralles Romanes de Tarragona (Roman walls of Tarragona) that once surrounded the entire area.  Much of these walls remain intact and are visible even today. We frequently would exclaim “There’s MORE of it!” and point to the wall we glimpsed among the buildings as we traveled clockwise around the Old Town area, winding through the narrow old city streets as best we could.  

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Plaça de Sant Joan eventually led us past the monastery, Carmelites descalces, the Arquebisbat de Tarragona (Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Tarragona), a lovely museum filled with beautiful religious artwork, Museu Diocesà de Tarragona, an impressive neolithic building, Casa dels Canonges, and ultimately, the massive and awesome Catedral de Tarragona (Cathedral of Tarragona).  The Cathedral is an impressive Romanesque and Gothic structure constructed on a well-established religious location. Apparently, this specific location once housed a Roman temple, a Visigoth cathedral and a Moorish mosque.  Amen!

The cathedral itself has an octagonal tower-dome, a large, 230 feet tall bell tower with very loud bells, and an impressive facade with three main portals.  It is surrounded by an expansive and ornate gate with ancient cast iron doors and about 20 (at least) different chapels of varying sizes, shapes and shrines.  The complex also includes a lovely cloister with a beautiful, peaceful courtyard dotted with fountains and well-groomed gardens.  As is true for most Spanish landmarks we have visited, both Arabic and Moorish influence can be seen hidden among the architectural designs in the buildings, gates and gardens, even here, in this obviously Roman place.  

We ambled past Palau de la Cambreria, Casa Canals, and Museu Nacional Arqueològic de Tarragona, until we popped out from behind a wall and suddenly found ourselves standing at the Circ Romà (Roman Circus), one of the most well-preserved of its kind.  This circus is nothing at all like what probably pops into your mind when you hear the word “circus”.  No elephants, jugglers, glittery horses and riders, clowns, or trained, performing dogs to be found here.  This was the place of races.  Kind of like ancient NASCAR actually.  Built in the first century, it is both open-air and underground (similar to the original olympic stadium in Greece) and is a huge oval spanning over 1,000 feet long and nearly 400 feet across with the capacity to seat around 30,000 spectators.  This track was home to all of the area horse and chariot races.  Allita and I closed our eyes and imagined what it would be like to observe a race in this beautiful place, where the blue Mediterranean colors the background and the brilliant sun streams down from the sky warming the stone benches around us.  

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The Circ Romà also includes the Praetorium, which is a gigantic building with a tower that once connected the lower city with the forum by way of an indoor staircase and underground passageways.  We were not able to go inside the Praetorium but we could see most of the structure from our vantage point outdoors.  Even as we goggled over the awesomeness of this structure, Allita smirked at the irony of the history of the place.  You see, the Praetorium was once modified into a palace for the Crown of Aragon monarchy, then, in later years, it became a prison.  It’s gone from riches to rags, so to speak.

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Directly across Via Augusta from the Roman circus and Praetorium is the massive Amfiteatre de Tarragona (Roman amphitheater), which interestingly was about half the size of the circus with seating for only about 15,000 people but appeared to be so much more grandiose.  We literally only had to turn ourselves around in order to be able to see it.  This is the place where all the typical non-race Roman entertainment would occur – such as gladiatorial venationes (wild animal fights) or the fiery persecution of Christians.  The amphitheater itself has a history not unlike the circus; after it was no longer used for its original purposes, some of the stones were repurposed to build a basilica to commemorate the martyrs who died there, the place was abandoned, then it became a convent, and eventually a prison, until it was finally “recovered” to it’s current and “almost original” state.  

SIDE NOTE: “Almost original” reminds me of “Almost Free“; a similarly paradoxical phrase we learned in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico some years ago.

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El Balcó del Mediterrani (The Balcony of the Mediterranean) is precisely as the name implies.  It is literally a balcony over the sea – a promenade that stretches across the coastline of the city but higher than the shore and offers sweeping views of beach as well as the Parc de l’Amfiteatre and the port.   This is where the pace of our journey slowed significantly (possibly also in part due to having climbed the trail from the amphitheater up to the balcony ledge) and we stopped to savor the experience of modern-day Tarragona.  The lovely little park area included many benches available for just this leisure activity.  Mom had her own specific private bench upon which to enjoy the sunshine and crisp sea breeze.  Actually, many benches were labeled with large red circular stickers indicating those spots were reserved for people older than 65. 

Giving priority to mayores (older people) is not new to Spain as I have mentioned in many previous posts.  I also noticed that while the park was filled with families, youths, businessmen and others, the seniors were, in fact, the only ones sitting on their dedicated benches, which often possessed the best views and most dappled shade. Furthermore, every single person we saw was actively wearing a mask and social distancing.  This should be evident from some of the photos I am including in this post.  

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We ventured into an Ale Hop, of course; waiting patiently in the line outside at the front of the store until it was our time to enter.   We made a few purchases, as we frequently do in this particular chain store.  It reminds me of Spencer Gifts – do you remember that store? – once a staple of nearly every mall I ever visited in the U.S.  Allita was highly entertained by the cow statue in this particular locale since she was also wearing a mask.  So they took a socially distanced photo together.  The Ale Hop employee regulating pedestrian traffic at the store entrance was amused by our antics. 

We wandered leisurely down Rambla Nova, the walking mall, which was on Mom’s list of places to visit, and enjoyed a large quantity of window shopping and people watching.  Tarragona is much like any other typical Catalan city.  The old city is really ancient with tiny, narrow streets paved centuries ago in meticulously laid stones that fit perfectly into a patterned design.  At ground level, some of the buildings have what appears to be garages suitable either for a moto (motorcycle or moped) or a Smart (Smart car) as nothing bigger could surely fit!  Others have little shops like bakeries, ice cream parlors, shoe stores, pharmacies, restaurants, or various markets like fruits, veggies, fish or meat.  Most of the old city buildings are multi-leveled structures with residences on the top floors.  Their little balconies filled with furniture, plants and sometimes clothes drying in the sunshine and fresh breeze.  Frequently we could see someone standing outside in the sunshine on their tiny balcony – sometimes talking on the phone, reading a book or just sitting peacefully with their faces lifted to the sunshine, enjoying the peaceful day.  

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Eventually, we made our way to the remaining three sites we wanted to visit: Fòrum romà (Roman Forum), Teatre Romà de Tarragona (Roman Theater) and Monument als Castellers (monument to the Castellers).  Along the way we also passed the lovely Fuente del Centenario (fountain).  By now, we were absolutely exhausted and way beyond hungry, since lunchtime was two hours prior, so we trudged back to Plaça de la Font, which was generously lined with a multitude of novel restaurants, making a mental note of the gelato place (Heladeria Tiramisu) just off the main drag.  After some exploration and negotiation, we settled on a good, sunny location outside at Podium29, where we enjoyed fantastic tapas including pimientos de piquillo (cod-stuffed piquillo peppers), patatas bravas (Catalan potato wedges with spicy brava sauce), tires de pollastre (chicken strips), bunyols de bacallà (cod fritters), and, of course, Cava.  It was a most fabulous experience and a trip well made.  Even if my feet hurt.  

We made a u-turn at L’Ampolla and headed back north toward Tarragona and the Costa Dorada (Golden Coast) for the second week of our first trip of 2021.  This route is half of the “Camino Real” (Royal Route) between Valencia and Tarragona constructed in Roman times and utilized still today.  The path contains many, often breath-taking, views of the Spanish coastline and is generally traversed only on foot, much like the Cinque Terra in Italy.  It is a surprising regional secret that includes several interesting facets such as agricultural, civil and religious buildings, monumental trees, unusual places, stately homes, anecdotes and legends.  The coasts are dotted with fabulous beaches and have attracted many visitors to this region over the years.  Tarragona is the Denominación de Origen Protegida for Catalan wines – thus offering yet another reason why a visit there is so important.    

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On the way north from L’Ampolla, we stopped for lunch in Miami-Platja (Miami Beach).  How delightful is that?  Yes, we all had a good laugh about having driven so far and long that we suddenly found ourselves in southern Florida.  Ha!  

Miami Beach, Spain is about 30 km south of Tarragona; making it an excellent half-way point for our picnic lunch.  It’s a small town on the Costa Dorada with lovely, sandy beaches spread among rocky coves and cliffs and accessible by winding trails and steep staircases that lead down from the road above.  In some places, this area is not unlike the Costa Brava (Trip to Costa Brava 2020) where the beach is a bit of a hike from your parked car.  You find yourself doing a mental cost-benefit analysis before schlepping back up the hillside for the sunvisor you forgot.  

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We spent about an hour enjoying our freshly prepared bocadillos (sandwiches) and quinoa salad in the shade and watching Allita climb the massive rocks and play in the sand of a nearly private sandy cove.  We also drove all around the town and the seaside on our way in and out of the area – it was such a beautiful place and I could easily see myself spending a week-long vacation in one of the many oceanfront condominiums we admired.  I know, I know… I’m not a huge fan of the beach, but this place has a golf course.  Hello!  

Along the way to our next resort campground, we also passed through port city of Tarragona with its complex web of narrow streets winding in and around the ancient Roman structures in the center of the city.  Tarragona was once the most important city on the Iberian peninsula and we all agreed that we would invest at least one full day exploring this lovely ancient area during our stay. 

Camping Tamarit (https://www.tamarit.com), the self-proclaimed “fabulous beach resort” was our destination.  Of course, we had reserved a Safari Lodge tent located in a campground right on the beach for our luxurious glamping adventure.  Why not?  Who knows how many other trips we will be allowed to take this year?  Might as well make the most of it and in the least “mainstream” way possible – as we are inclined to do.  No boring hotel rooms for us.  No sir-ee!  Bring on the large, opulent, canvas tent with built-in kitchen, wooden deck with BBQ and private bathroom and shower!  After all, we had some serious wine-tasting and beach luxuriating to do!  

Now this next statement is probably going to be a bit of a surprise for some of you.   Where I have historically complimented and even recommended some of the places we have resided during our many travels over the last few years, the resort in Tamarit was a disappointment.  Furthermore, I have struggled to find enough positive words to describe our experience there.  In large part, that is why this post has taken so long for me to complete.  

Don’t get me wrong.  The campground was “OK” overall with many amenities.  Perhaps in warmer months or prior years, our experience might have been different? It was understandable that not everything was available because of the pandemic, yet the prices were still very high for off-season (March!), which was not understandable.  Further, the resort staff did not appear to be fully informed about what was happening at any given time.  It was somewhat disorganized and there was a fair amount of miscommunication.  Worst of all, we had considerable technological difficulties that I later discovered were well-known issues at this resort, and had been previously experienced by others (including locals we met during our day trips around the area).  Obviously, I did not do the best job of researching all the pros and cons before we booked our stay.  Shame on me.

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In a nutshell, the wifi here was MUCH WORSE than any we have ever experienced.  EVER.  Although advertised otherwise, it was unreliable and weak at the best times.  Attending online school was extraordinarily difficult if not impossible.  Many times over the week, we had to walk to various locations all over the resort just to be able to find a signal sufficient to access the classroom.  I also found it hard to just get the weather report – never mind checking my email.  This was particularly bothersome as I like to keep in touch with property managers and pet sitters when I’m away from home.  You know, in case there is an emergency?!  

Whereas the previous week, at Camping L’Ampolla, we had five different wifi options and all were free, at Tamarit Beach Resort, which was considerably more expensive and only a tent instead of a bungalow, we had two options: one free and one “premium”, which required a purchased access code.  Our first day, we were granted access to the “premium” wifi to “test it out”, but regardless of what we tried, we saw no difference in performance between the two signals.  Ultimately, Mom and I found ways to manage and Allita suffered through with dropped Zoom classes and the frequent inability to access servers.  It was only a week after all and the school records each class so Allita played catch up when we got back home.   

We did, in fact, stay in what they called a Safari Lodge (tent).  It is described as the premium of the “glamping” offerings.  It was quite a surprise to go to a colder location and switch from actual walls to canvas panels!  Thankfully the tent came with a lovely heater that was able to keep us satisfactorily warm in the evenings and through the night.  In fact, the only reason we stayed at this particular resort was because of the tent which we fell in love with from the website photos.  How silly is that?  But we don’t often have the opportunity to “glamp” and what’s the point in having an adventure without actually trying something new?

The tent was basically a single room built on a platform.  The side walls were canvas with screened windows covered by flaps of canvas that we were able to roll up in order to get natural light and roll down in order to have privacy and heat.  Inside were two twin bunk beds and a large double bed for sleeping, four chairs and a very small table, a small refrigerator and microwave, a bench, a drying rack, and a single wardrobe (a portion of which was the utility closet with mop, iron, etc.).  The “kitchen” was part indoors and part outdoors and it came complete with cookware and place settings for four.  The stove was gas and it was a camping stove, of course. We were glamping, after all. 

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After we arrived and unpacked, I returned to the office on foot to ask if they could please deliver a tank of gas for the outdoor stove so that we could actually warm our dinner.  Our parking space was near the tent but it was tricky to access and I had no interest in attempting it a second time that day.  The tent did have a bathroom with shower and small sink in the rear.  This was the main sink available except for a large dishwashing and laundry area conveniently nearby.  There was also a toilet in another small room in the rear of the tent.  Of course, our tent was located right next door to the bathhouse and showers, so we didn’t really need the private bathroom but it was nice to have, especially in the middle of the night.  The hot water was absolutely boiling and made me long for a bathtub for the first time in years.  Finally, the platform included a covered patio area where the “BBQ” was located along with two lounge chairs and a large table.  We moved 3 chairs outside so we could eat at this table later in the day when it was warmer and we used the fourth chair and the bench inside for breakfast at the tiny table.  It was quite cozy but overall nice and not unlike what I expected “glamping” to be.  

One of the best features of this resort campground is their proximity to Tarragona, Denominació d’Origen Penedès (the cava region of Spain), and, of course, the actual Playa de Altafulla beach.  This particular beach came fully-equipped with a well-preserved medieval castle (Cala Jovera or Castell de Tamarit) as well as two light houses (Far Altafulla-Tamarit and Far de Torredembarra).  The beach here is quite lovely with fine sand dotted with a multitude of flat rocks (they look like river rocks, actually) in multiple colors and sizes.  As you can imagine, Allita spent a fair amount of time perusing the rocks and selecting one or two (hundred) for her growing collection of beach detritus.  

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Another good feature of this area is the grocery store, which is nearly full-sized, and has a small take-away restaurant next door that is sometimes open.  The resort has two main restaurants they told us were always open but we didn’t eat at any of them.  The three times we were at any of the restaurants, they were both closed and the employees on site indicated they wouldn’t open until the weekend.  However the take-away place was fantastic and had delicious roasted chicken and medium-sized pizzas, which we did enjoy.  

The final good thing about this resort was the day trip they arranged for us at a local winery.  Of course, we had to drive ourselves to the actual winery, but we were able to pay for our tour in advance and only had to produce our tickets in order to be included.  Further, the tour we joined was offered in English so we were able to understand most of it.  WIN!  

Tarragona was the Roman capital of Spain and the hub of their wine-growing industry.  In fact, Catalan wines were traded with Egyptians by the Phoenicians many hundred years before the Romans even arrived on the Iberian peninsula!  Catalonia is the second largest producer of Spanish wines (after Rioja).  Cava, of course, for which this region is the most famous, is what interested us most.  Bring on the bubbly!!  Interestingly, Spanish Cava wines can be traced back to French Champagne techniques and were at one time called “champán”, but when the EU granted protected geographical status to that region of France, the name was officially changed.  While many Americans call any type of bubbly alcoholic beverage, “champagne”, by international law, only those wines that originate in that specific French region can be considered true Champagne.  So the Spanish have Cava and Frissante and the Italians have Asti Spumante and Lambrusco (for example).  Fun fact!  

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Casa Mas Vincenç winery is located in the Tarragona region.  It has been family owned and operated for many generations.  We met the mother and both her sons during our tour and she pointed out that in true Catalan tradition, the winery is also their private home and includes a stable for their animals.  They grow 12 different types of grapes and, as such, have lots of different wines available.  The younger vineyards are about 10 years old, but some of the older ones are 90+ years established and still produce fantastic grapes.  The vineyard is quite large but the winery is small so they only use about 40-50% of their grape harvest to make wine.  They sell the remaining grapes to the local Cooperative.  They also grow olives and make olive oil and vinegar, almonds, hazelnuts, and a variety of other items (honey, seasoned crisps, etc.) which they sell in their little boutique on premises and also through the local Cooperative.  We got to see all the equipment and the underground oak barrel storage area.  The tour guide (the oldest son) explained much of the wine making process to Allita who did a very good job of appearing interested and listening intently.  Mom and I spent our time tasting and enjoying the sunshine.  

It was a lovely outing and we wandered our way back to the resort campground taking the long way along the coast and through almost every little town we could find.  I enjoyed every moment of it but admit that we were all a little hungry and tired by the time we arrived back at the campground.  We stayed a week in Tamarit and enjoyed lovely weather, albeit colder than our week in L’Ampolla, plus a few days of adventure and exploration, which were both fun and fantastic.  Look for a post about our time in Tarragona and tour of Denominació d’Origen Penedès next.  ¡Salut!

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When I was a kid, a favorite after-school game in my neighborhood was “Cops and Bad Guys”.  We called it bad guys, because we didn’t limit our pretend felonies to only bank robberies – so not “Robbers”.  Sometimes, we were spies or gangsters and we pretend murdered each other.  Once, as a bad guy, I even pretend kidnapped someone’s younger brother, but the two of us ended up picking and eating wild berries, and playing hide-and-seek instead.  Now that I think about it, I wasn’t selected to be a bad guy very often.  However, we all rotated who got to play Steve.  Steve was the Captain of the police detectives.  You remember him, right?  Captain Steve McGarrett from the famous show, Hawaii 5 0, the longest-running American police drama in TV history.  We would play until the sun started to set and we could hear someone’s mom hollering “DINNER!” from their porch.  Then, right before we split up, “Steve” would say those famous words and we’d dash off into different directions making tough-guy noises and whooping with excitement.  Although the title comes from the fact that Hawaii is the 50th state, the show had such an influence on American culture that even today, the police are referred to as “5 0” in urban slang. Obviously, I wasn’t the only kid in America anxiously waiting to tell my buddies to “Book ‘em,”. 

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What brings these memories to mind, you ask?  Well, this is a big year for me.  Actually, this is a milestone year for all of us.  However, for me, this is also the year I turned the big 5-0.  50 years old.  And what better time to sit down and reflect on this year’s milestones then now, in my 50th blog post from lovely Spain.  Hard to believe I’ve written 50 posts over the last two years.  I mean, I know I may occasionally be described as loquacious, and, admittedly, I can be a tad verbose, but that’s a lot of blather, even for me.  So, if you’ve been following me from the beginning, thanks for hanging in there.  If you’ve just joined, maybe you can play catch-up in a binge reading session over the coming weekend?  Good luck.  

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This year started off a tad slow but has gradually been picking up a little speed.  More like an old Chevy Nova with three-on-the-tree trying to go uphill at a stoplight on a cold winter morning, and less like a massive boulder being pushed down the side of a steep mountain.  So, heavy emphasis on “little” in that first sentence, right?   

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We had grand visions at the end of 2020.  We saw the vaccine for Covid-19 rolling out in the fall and had a good overall feeling about our vision of early 2021.  Unfortunately, the plans we made to spend all of January in Alicante, exploring Valencia and that entire region, turned into wishful dreams when Catalonia and Valencia both decided to leave all borders closed and required residents to remain within their region of residence until nearly the end of June!  The uncontrolled spread of coronavirus was still a major concern in Spain for most of the first half of 2021.  The country entered their third “lockdown” around the end of 2020.  Even with the vaccine slowly being introduced and restrictions on movement, face masks, social distancing, and socializing, Spain didn’t feel good about the effectiveness of their infection control measures until well into the summer, and the country borders didn’t reopen until July 1, 2021.   Fortunately, after considerable effort on our part and bureaucracy on the part of the government, we managed to finally be officially entered into the Cat-Salut system and get ourselves vaccinated.   All three of us.

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Also, this time around, the confinement measures didn’t require us to stay within our homes (1st confinement) or within the city of Barcelona (2nd confinement).  So, we were able to explore some of southern Catalonia, including the Ebro river Delta (Down on the Delta), Tarragona, Villafranca, and the Cava wine region just south of Barcelona. 

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With the weather so mild and lovely for most of the spring and summer months, we also spent a fair amount of time exploring our own backyard.  We walked to Casa Vincens and Bellesguard – both relatively close proximity to our apartment.

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We spent a couple days at Sol i Vi Hotel. Twice. It’s a lovely place and absolutely worth visiting more than once.

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Additionally, we finally hired a car and rode to Santa Maria de Montserrat Abbey to see the Black Virgin and hike through the lovely gardens and trails. 

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One sunny Sunday, we discovered a dragon statue at the Barcelona Sants train station as well as a massive park with a lovely water feature (where was THAT hiding?!?).  We also toured the Museum of Music in Barcelona, saw the Design Museum, the “Bullet” tower (Torre Glòries), and spent a long afternoon exploring the outdoor flea market with a mirrored roof, Market dels Encants, crammed with clothes, shoes, handbags, linens, books, collectibles, furniture, and a variety of other bric-a-brac and hubris all at “bargain” prices! We even saw a completely unexpected but beautiful bull ring (Monumental) in Poblenou, that we knew absolutely nothing about!  SURPRISE!!  

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We spent one entire day walking around the harbor at the Port of Barcelona, called Port Vell.  The day started out overcast and chilly, but soon the rain clouds blew away and the sun came out to sparkle and shine on the water.  This wharf is normally teaming with tourists streaming out of tour busses and pouring off cruise ships, hardworking locals, cops, mariners moving sailboats in or out of dock, street vendors, and pickpockets.  That day, the place was largely vacant.  Something I suppose it hasn’t been since the day it was constructed nearly 20 years ago.  We had lunch outdoors at a very posh tapas restaurant for which I am certain we would have normally needed advance reservations. Afterwards, of course, we went shopping for hours in the massive mall, Maremagnum.  Allita even got her ears pierced (for the first time ever) at the jewelry store while Mom waited outside in the sunshine.   It was idyllic. 

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The big trip for me this year was my birthday present from my mother.  In June, Allita and I went to Granada to see Alhambra in its entirety.  We spent three days there so we also saw the cathedral, walked the riverwalk, toured the old town and market district, and ate plenty of fabulous Moroccan-influenced and Mediterranean foods (sometimes even sitting on pillows around a table and eating with our hands).  It was an amazing way to celebrate my milestone birthday and I highly recommend it, if you have the chance.  We stayed at a tiny hotel right in the middle of the main tapas restaurants and flamenco bars.  We even caught sight of a gypsy flamenco dancer, although we didn’t make it to the caves for an actual live performance. 

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In July, we booked an Air B&B for a week at Allita’s favorite beach, Casteldefels.  We celebrated Allita’s 13th birthday in a 3rd floor walk-up located just off the main street near the boardwalk.  A big milestone birthday for her – finally becoming an actual teenager.  It was also Allita’s first time shopping for knock-off designer fashion (handbags, wallets, etc.) from Africa.  Ha!  Of course, we collected lots of seashells, built sandcastles, and spent many hours riding the waves.  Allita even talked me into ordering duck from the local Chinese food restaurant as a special take-away dinner.  

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In August, we ended our second year of living in Barcelona with a big decision.  We have loved our time here, and we would absolutely repeat the same move, if we had to do it all again.  Granted, we would hopefully be a bit more organized, bring less stuff, and arrive before August (universal vacation month) – hindsight being 20/20 after all.  The pandemic did throw a spanner into the works, but we are adapting to the “new normal”, which is admittedly a bit unpredictable.   The only real assurance we have is that the authorities will not hesitate to confine us again, should they believe that measure is warranted.  Which means, part of our “new normal” is changing the way we think about things – including how and what we plan for the future.  

Thus, we’ve decided to move – yet again!  We feel good about our time in Catalonia.  We have also toured Aragon, Navarra, La Rioja, the Basque country, and Madrid.  But, we still want to spend time in Andalusia, Murcia, and Valencia.  These regions of Spain are rich with history and culture, and we have a number of places we would like to visit while we still live abroad.  Proximity does matter, so our best bet is relocate to the south, where we stand a better chance of being able to visit these other areas during the breaks between lockdowns.  Allita already has full-time, online education with a flexible, year-round schedule that affords us plenty of freedom.  Our major concern is the cat and finding accommodations where he can be accepted, if not welcomed.  Allita also started clarinet lessons this year, so wherever we stay needs to be private enough that practice of said woodwind doesn’t disturb the Peace.   Well, at least not the entire neighborhood, even if the appearance of that little black case has the same effect as the vacuum cleaner on Toby.   

As we begin the end of 2021 and the start of our third year living abroad, we find ourselves once again cleaning out, downsizing, and packing up to move.  Our destination is Almería, a lovely town along the Andalusian coast.  If everything goes as planned, we will spend at least 5 months there, living on the coast, and exploring the rest of Spain.  We are all excited about this next adventure.  So, you can expect to see more details in the near future about all of our 2021 adventures as well as our future 2022 destination. 

In the meantime, “Aloha, suckers!”.

Every time I think of the Delta, I think of Helen Reddy and how everyone in our car used to sing out loud to her song whenever it came on the radio.  My mom, dad, aunt, cousins, and even my school friends all knew and loved this particular melody.  We would belt out the tune in our off-keyed harmony, often making up lyrics on the fly, as we cruised down the highway on any one of many childhood road trips in Mom’s orange wood-paneled Buick Vista Cruiser.  My mother’s tenor would lead us since Dad and I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.  Such fantastic memories!  And here we were, yet again, just like Dawn, headed downtown with a suitcase in our hands, looking for a dark-haired stranger.  Only our guy was actually employed by Avis and would provide us with the rental car we needed to whisk ourselves away on our next trip! 

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For our week in the Delta and our first trip of 2021, we procured a rental bungalow at the lovely Camping Ampolla Playa (https://www.campingampolla.es) in the tiny village of L’Ampolla on the Costa Dorada.  Mom wanted to see some wild flamingos and Allita was excited to play in the sand and surf.  I was hoping to wander through a rice field for the first time in my life.  Possibly even do some fishing?  Who knows what adventure we might discover?  The possibilities were endless and we had been long awaiting this opportunity to venture forth and explore; now that the government felt the pandemic was under better control and had loosened the restrictions on travel.  Although we had planned to visit Alicante and Valencia for a month, both those areas were not open to us at that time, so we were getting as close as we possibly could while still making the most of our experience by visiting a lovely and very important area within our travel boundary (Catalonia).    

Here is what we did on our this leg of our trip:

We spent quality time on the lovely sandy beach very near our bungalow at the campground.

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We collected shells, rocks and sea glass. 

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We built Sandcastles.

We played at the playground and exercise/activity area and explored the pool (not yet open), restaurant, and grocery market.

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On Friday, we spent the entire day exploring the actual Delta of the Ebro river.  (More on this day in another post which is dedicated entirely to Parque Natural del Delta del Ebro)

Finally, on Saturday, we headed out on foot, because the sun was shining and the weather was warmer, although it was still quite windy and brisk.  We planned a nice quick walk to L’Ampolla along the boardwalk to the marina and that’s exactly what we got. 

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Although it was not really a quick walk.  All-in-all, we walked for just over 3 hours, exploring a small section of the little town near the yacht club and just below the actual port.  There were some beaches but all were gravel and rock and none as beautiful as ours just around the bay.  One did have some tide pools, which Allita found exciting and decided to explore even though I prophetically predicated she would get her still-shod feet wet. 

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It was a lovely excursion.  The small section of L’Ampolla we explored was so much like any other small coastal mediterranean town that we could easily have been in Italy or Greece, meandering the streets and back alleyways, and poking into every possible shop we could find.  Yes, we also made a variety of purchases, mostly apparel.  That was quite fun indeed.

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Most of our time in lovely L’Ampolla was spent relaxing and enjoying the beach and the campground.  We rented paddle ball equipment and played for 1 1/2 hours during which time we also simultaneously explored the nearby creek bed and flora.  As Allita observed, those little balls can really travel! We had only one period of cold overcast weather and we spent that morning inside playing games, reading, and generally relaxing, but were able to enjoy some dappled sunshine and beach walking later that afternoon.  After a full, fun-filled week down on the Delta, we washed our clothes and packed up the rental car again to head north to Tarragona for a week of Cava and glamping!

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The Ebro River Delta is home to Parque Natural del Delta del Ebro, which includes around 20,000 acres (30 square miles) of protected wetlands, beaches, marshes, salt pans and estuaries that are a winter stopping point for over 300 different species of migratory animals (particularly birds).  The Ebro itself is the longest river entirely in Spain flowing through at least 20 different cities.  In fact, it is the third largest river to drain into the Mediterranean after the Rhône and the Nile.  We have crossed the Ebro river a few times during our previously road trips (Logroño).  However, this was our first time visiting the famous Delta region in Tarragona, one of the largest Mediterranean wetlands, and what Allita refers to as the “Delta Biome” (Minecraft reference).  

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We explored the Delta on a rainy, overcast Friday, which was also quite chilly, so spending the day mostly in the car was not a great difficulty.  We saw Greater Flamingos, Mallards, Heron, various Tern, some coot (mostly the avian variety but we did see a few, older, homo sapiens as well), Gulls, and a plethora of other fauna all living among the rice fields, reedy marshes, lagoons, and cat-tailed wetlands spread all over the Ebro River Delta region.  We darefully drove our little rental vehicle from the campgrounds along roads that don’t exist on any map we owned and were just vague grey lines even at max zoom on Google’s version.  I’m quite surprised at how much detail that app. has for where we were, considering that on multiple occasions we were literally driving ON THE BEACH and within a few meters of the actual surf.  While, other times, it felt like we were probably rolling casually down someone’s driveway at best or a well-traveled animal corridor at worst.  This was the type of adventuring I have not experienced since our road trip through Utah in 2016.  Another nostalgic feature of this journey was the sand dunes all along the beach area.  I have not seen such a quality dune system at the beach since I was a child exploring the coastal Carolinas.  

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We wandered these “roads” for many hours and rarely encountered other travelers, even locals.  We passed through Deltebre, Sant Jaume d’Enveja, and finally ended up in Eucaliptus.  In fact, we picked up the very best of the marshland and bird-watching at la Tancada on our way to Poble Nou del Delta. 

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We ended our day excursion passing l’encanylssada lagoon with it’s lovely homes, Sant Carles de la Capita and stopping in Amposta to explore the Lidl and stretch our legs.  We got a glimpse of L’Aldea and Camarles on our way back to L’Ampolla to the campground but since we were traveling the N-340 at the time, it wasn’t much more than a quick look.   All-in-all, we were extraordinarily lucky that we arrived only a week before all these tiny paths wandering through the region would be closed off for 6 months as part of ecological preservation and rice cultivating activities that happen in this area every year.  Otherwise, our entire visit would have been nothing much more than a quick glimpse from the distant highway.

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I don’t have the vocabulary in my repertoire to do justice to the beauty of all we witnessed on the Delta and sadly, my photography skills are even more lacking.  To say that it is absolutely a place worth visiting is a massive understatement, but you would get no argument from the multitude of fowl that flock to this area every year.  Parque Natural del Delta del Ebro is a hidden marvel of wonders – a biological gem – a place where man and nature live and labor in harmony and balance, season after season.   It is easy to understand why the Spanish strive so hard to preserve this lovely area.  

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My father was an enthusiastic fan of the vino.  Perhaps, he was not precisely a connoisseur, but he certainly was the family pundit when it came to selecting the appropriate wine to pair with a meal or to celebrate an occasion.  He collected wines from all over the world, and frequently visited wineries and toured vineyards.  More than once he took a class to learn from an expert gourmet or sommelier – sometimes even while on a cruise!  Such was the depth of his passion and enthusiasm for the grape.  One of his very favorite wines, was Marqués de Cáceres, produced in La Rioja, Spain for over five generations.  I can recall many moments spent discussing the great virtues of the tempranillo grape and how much he appreciated the smell, feel and taste of this particular red wine.  

My father died in 2015.  It feels like yesterday and sometimes I still expect him to simply appear.  He is part of our lives even today.  You know, it’s not at all unusual for one of us to remark, “Dad would really have enjoyed this”, or to recall a memory involving him and something related to our current circumstances.  Whether we are adventuring or just living our normal routine, his spirit seems to always be with us.  So, when at last we finally found our way to Logroño, the capital of La Rioja, and the home of Dad’s favorite wine, I suppose it was only natural that memories of my father would play predominately in my mind. 

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Logroño is a small city with around 150,000 inhabitants.  Coming from Bilbao, which is easily twice that size, and Barcelona, which is almost 10 times that size, we found this city quaint and easily traversed.  It is also located right on the Ebro river so there were tons of bridges – those beautiful Spanish architectural constructs – available for us to view as we traveled and explored.  Along the route, we drove past three large, white, metal bridges that were surprisingly stunning in design.  We saw the Puenta de Práxedes Mateo Sagasta, the newest and most modern of the bridges we had seen thus far, at the Parque de la Isla (park at the riverbank) when we first arrived in town.  We saw the bridge from the distance and decided to stop for a moment to take in the view.  Then we turned around and drove back into the city center towards El Cubo de Revellín (the tower) and the great Revellín wall, which are part of the remains of the city’s original fortifications.  

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I eventually parked the car and we left Mom to relax while Allita and I trekked through the Parque del Ebro (city park) area and got a fantastic view of Casa de las Ciencias (House of the Sciences) and the absolutely gorgeous Puente de Hierro (Iron Bridge), which is also the oldest of the bridges crossing the Ebro River in Logroño.  Also, this is my favorite of the bridges we saw or visited in La Rioja. From the same area, we were able to view the Puente de Piedra, another famous bridge that is mostly remarkable because it is featured in the city shield and is the place where the Camino de Santiago enters the city.   At this point, I should note that I had ignorantly and innocently parked the car illegally, so when Allita and I returned, we were surprised to discovered Mom entertaining a Spanish police officer from her passenger-side seat.  Thankfully, he was extremely understanding and forgiving (and probably also amused).  We all agreed it was best to locate our hotel, which included a private parking garage, and continue the rest of our journey on foot.  We spent the rest of our time walking in Logroño.  Considering our main destination was La Laurel, that was probably a good decision.  

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Calle del Laurel (Laurel Street), locally and affectionately known as “La Laurel”, is the main and most famous street in the taperías quarter.  In fact, there are well over 50 different tapas or pinxto (pincho) bars/restaurants in this four-block area.  Wow! Not to mention all the bodegas offering samples at their stand-up tables. Hello! Welcome! Every establishment served a variety of tapas or media ración (half or small portions) and, of course, the famous Rioja D.O. wine.  Each place had their own particular flavors and speciality dishes, which they paired perfectly with a local wine. 

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In my humble opinion, the very best way to experience La Laurel is the way we did it – start at one end and wander slowly through the street, stopping as you like to share tapas and taste wine, until you are either too full or too inebriated to go any further.  I recommend you also have a functional GPS on your fully charged phone or a good map of the city so that it’s easier for someone in your party to locate your hotel for a post-tapas siesta.  In fact, we used this as an opportunity for Allita to practice her map-reading and navigational skills.  Ha! The locals call this little neighborhood “la senda de los elefantes” (the path of the elephants) because you exit with your trunk down and on all fours!  Clearly it’s fairly common for visitors to stumble their way along this route and, we found ourselves sharing the narrow passageways with an unexpectedly large number of locals and guests.  Thankfully it was all outdoors, the weather was perfect, and, for the most part, people were observing all the safety rules.  The food was delicious, unusual and fun and the wine was definitely worth savoring.  More than anything else I can think of, Dad really would have really enjoyed this part of our trip.  

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Bilbao is basically a city of bridges.  Why that came as something of a surprise to me, I have no idea.  I mean, the map of this northern portion of Spain has more twisty rivers and waterways than my grandma’s legs had spider veins.  The local residents would need a way to navigate across all this water, right?  Particularly when they decided to build this busy city right on the biggest varicose vein around: the Nervión River, which eventually becomes the Estuary of Bilbao.  

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Maybe that’s what Bilbao means in Basque: “basically bridges”?  The whole place is crazy with them!!  And, they are all works of creative architectural design.  The Spanish are not afraid to create functional art – let me tell you.  These aren’t simply structures designed to move people or cars over rivers, ravines, train tracks, other roads, etc.  Oh no.  Many were flat out awe-inspiring.  They were “OH MY GOD! Pull the car over, Stanley! I wanna take a photo!” creations.  Sometimes colorful, sometimes monochromatic.  Modern, traditional, gothic, adorned and plain – every single bridge we saw was unique.   In fact, I could spend this entire post telling you all about the many, amazing bridges we saw in Bilbao.  However, that would not do justice to all of the other fascinating and fantastic sights we saw while we were there.  So I will just throw in some photos and mention only one or two of our favorites.  Suffice it to say, if you go to Bilbao, plan to see some cool bridges, in addition to the Guggenheim, of course.  

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We spent two whole days in Bilbao – the longest amount of time we planned to spend in any one place for this particular trip.  The biggest reason for the extended stay was the Guggenheim museum.  Those of you who know me very well are probably thinking “Really?!”. Anyone who remembers our trip to Madrid (¡Hola Madrid!) may recall that I am outnumbered by museum lovers in this family.  Such is my fate.  The decision to visit the Guggenheim, or “Goog” as I call it, was entirely Allita’s and primarily because of a dog.  Actually, a statue of a dog.  A West Highland Terrier, to be exact. A massive statue entitled “Puppy” that is made almost entirely from LIVE blooming plants that are somehow shaped in the form of a nearly 12.5-meter tall dog (more about Puppy).  It sits outside the museum.  The decision to go inside the museum was my mother’s.  These particular decisions I do not question, therefore I can only assume her rational was because it’s the Guggenheim.  I mean, come on.  Even I know that’s a thing.  

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We stayed at the Hotel Bilbao Plaza.  It sounds more luxurious than it really is (“We stayed at ‘The Plaza’”- just has a ring to it, am I right?) and it was a nice enough place with an excellent view of the Estuary and the Udaletxeko Zubia (bridge).  All of the Bilbao bridges are named.  I guess if you are going to create something amazing like that, you should probably give it a name.  Also, if you leaned a little out of the window in our room and looked over the massive trees lining the promenade along the river, you could just make out the Zubizuri bridge, which was one of my personal favorites.  We chose this location because it was halfway between the Guggenheim and the Old Town of Bilbao.  The two main places we planned to visit.  Also, it was within easy walking distance of the Artxandako funikularra Geltokia, a.k.a. Artxanda Funicular.  It’s the single track funicular that takes you up Artxanda Mountain where you can enjoy a lovely park, some restaurants and, most importantly, the best view of the entire city.  

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It rained on us off and on while we were in Bilbao.  The storm had followed us from San Sebastian and it hit hard the first night we were there.  Fortunately, as a result of a sudden downpour, we found ourselves eating dinner inside the most amazing Basque restaurant in Old Town – enjoying berenjenas rellenas (stuffed eggplant), marmitako (fish stew), pisto (ratatouille) and, of course, Sagardoa (apple cider).  Yum!  Allita decided that she does not care for sheep milk cheese, but I was proud of her for at least trying it.  What is a trip to Basque country without gastronomical adventure??  We walked to the Guggenheim early the next morning since we had tickets for the moment the doors opened.  Then we explored the nearby park and saw the Iberdrola dorrea (very tall building), the monument to the sacred heart of Christ, and more bridges (Euskalduna Zubia and Deustuko Zubia).  

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Some of the exhibits in the Guggenheim are interactive. You are also allowed to take photos. However, the eagle-eyed docent was quick to advise us “no-no” in one special area. I managed to snap the shot before she pounced. Outside the Guggenheim, on a periodic basis, giant vents release misty fog along the ground that creates a very eerie atmosphere. It also made it hard for us to see the sometimes uneven ground. Yikes! One specific piece really pulled at my heartstrings – the colorful statue of a giant bouquet of tulips – my grandmother’s favorite flowers.

We spent most of our time on foot, but we did take one driving trip along the river and toward the harbor specifically to see the world famous Bizkaiko Zubia (Vizcaya Bridge).  The world’s first iron suspension bridge designed to carry people AND cars in a high-suspension gondola.  Again with the bridges.  I know.  But this one is fairly awesome and we just had to see it.  Although none of my compadres were willing to actually ride across this bridge, we did park the car and got out to watch it travel back and forth.  And, of course, we took lots of photos.  One interesting point about this bridge is that it was designed by a Spaniard (Alberto Palacio) who studied architecture in France under Gustave Eiffel.  Yeah, the Eiffel Tower guy.   It’s a completely cool design that allows ships to easily pass on the waterway as people and cars cross over it but doesn’t require great lengths of sloping roadway on each side in order to raise the people and cars to the necessary height.  In fact, the puente colgante (“hanging bridge”) gondola skims right above the surface of the water! Actually, here’s a link to the wiki page because my photos don’t really do it justice.

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We left Bilbao in the early afternoon of what was technically our third day in the city but was only our second morning (think about it…).  The weather was nice – calm and mostly sunny – and we headed down the AP-68 towards Logroño in the heart of La Rioja, Spain’s most famous wine region.   

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San Sebastián (Donostia in Basque) is a lovely little Spanish resort town located on the Bay of Biscay, very close to the French border.  Famous for its beaches, nightlife and classy Parte Vieja (Old Town) with upscale vintage/retro/hipster shops and pintxo bars for enjoying Basque cuisine and local wines, it is also home to a fantastic collection of bridges spanning the Urumea river, ornate buildings and a beautiful lighthouse on the tiny isle of Santa Clara that sits in the mouth of the bay around which this city is wrapped.  We were surprised to discover that the city hosts an annual international film festival (SSIFF) every September and it was ongoing at the time of our visit, so we were able to check out the red carpet and associated flamboyant ornamentation. 

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Another interesting observation we made was the great number of surfers who were making the most of the gigantic never-ending waves at both Playa de la Concha (Concha beach) and Playa de Ondarreta (Ondarreta beach) and even in the mouth of the Urumea!  Many of them appeared to be quite experienced and the various shops along the Promenade San Sebastián gave the impression that surfing was rather commonplace in this ritzy locale.  

There were many parks and play areas along the boardwalk and on the beaches as is customary in Spain as far as I can tell.  At any given point, it’s never unusual to see children at play, adults exercising, dogs running and jumping, and older couples sitting in the sunshine on the little benches that frequent these areas.  Life here is pure enjoyment – every single moment of the day and each day of the year.  People bask in the sunlight, play music on the streets, sit and drink wine and coffee, savor tasty pastries and pixtos, smoke their hand-rolled, clove-scented tobacco cigarettes, laugh and sing and chatter without a care, and love openly and often.  It’s gratifying just to be among them – osmotically absorbing their joie de vivre and tranquility.  Thankfully happiness is contagious and we are not immune.  

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Our first day in San Sebastián was our best day there.  We arrived prior to the rain following us from Pamplona and had many lovely hours to explore the city by car and on foot.  We drove through the streets to see the many architectural wonders (bridges, buildings, tunnels etc.) and explore as much as we could before checking in to our hotel.  We parked at La Concha garage under the SSIFF locale without even knowing it.  As a side note, Allita and I found the parking structure signage hilarious and we giggled about it off and on for most of the rest of our trip.   We eventually exited and walked along the beach under the watchful eye of security and local guarda patrolling nearby presumably for celebrity security although said celebrities were nowhere to be seen at that particular time.  Allita collected her requisite sea shells and splashed about in the icy waters while Mom and I watched the talented surfers riding the massive swells. 

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Allita and I left Mom in the room relaxing and we walked the boardwalk along the bay.  There was a playground area and a lovely little park dotted with dog walkers, ladies with prams and small toddling children and even a handful of teens playing sand volleyball.  Eventually we climbed the steep rock staircase that leads to the local palace and wandered the grounds and exterior.  The view of the island of Santa Clara and it’s lovely lighthouse was fantastic from the point (Pico del Loro) at the peak of the grounds overhanging the beach. 

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We finally figured out how to descend through the fabulous Antiguako pedestrian tunnel (not uncommon in Spain) and walked along the street, carefully navigating down the huge staircase to the beach and picking our way across the rocks at the base of the royal grounds to “get to the other side”.  Miramar Palace, once a summer house for Spanish Royalty, sits on a huge hill which appears unexpectedly on the coastline.  The land just drops right off into the ocean right there.  BAM!  The rest of the bay area has wide expansive beaches on both sides of the palace stretching east and west at the base of the hill.  The palace grounds go south from the bay as far as you can see and they are very private.  It’s almost like the royal mansion is also being protected by the land should any invaders decide to raid the area.  That’s the perfect place to build a castle actually. 

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We wandered through a variety of neighborhoods and communities as we made our way leisurely back to the hotel, stopping to shop for bottled water and something to snack on for dinner.  In the end, we were extremely grateful for our little pedestrian adventure because the weather finally caught up with us around 7pm that evening.

Our hotel was a much-researched affair and we were fortunate to, once again, hit a winner with the Ezeiza.   We intentionally chose a location in Antiguo (the oldest part of the city) on the less touristy Ondarreta beach with fabulous views of Santa Clara island, Bahía de la Concha and, in the distance, la Concha beach, the Puerto (Port) and the Aquarium.  The hotel provided us with an excellent corner room on the floor above the restaurant with wrap-around windows that allowed us to easily see everything to the north, east and west of the city – almost the entire bay of San Sebastián. 

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When the storm finally hit, we gaped in awe at the angry breakers crashing into the giant rocks and wide sandy beaches, spraying sheets of salty bay water upwards into the downpour like two armies of water droplets clashing mid-air in unexpected encounter.  The skies morphed from slate grey to deep charcoal as saturated clouds rolled in, smothering the setting sun and bringing thunder and lightening which cracked across the heavens with a vengeance.  It came with the full force of an Atlantic coastal squall, complete with sideways rain and howling winds.  This was another one of those times when I said a silent “thank you” for all our our blessings, including being indoors and protected.  Truly, it was like watching a battle between sky and sea; it was terrifyingly awesome.  

We all enjoyed traditional Spanish breakfast the next morning at the fabulous hotel restaurant where we had previously enjoyed a delicious lunch the day prior.  The morning felt heavy with rain and smelled damp and misty so we knew without a doubt that this was only a temporary cease-fire and not a sustainable truce.  That said, we decided to see if we could once again outpace the bad weather and we departed much sooner than expected to make our way toward Bilbao.  

Oh!  One last item of interest is the port.  Puerto de San Sebastián is a small triangle-shaped affair with about 400 mooring spots, which are all permanently occupied.  In fact, the entire area is private and sale of fresh catch has to be arranged in advance.  It’s one of those “look but don’t touch” places.  Sorry Otis, you won’t find yourself wasting time on these docks pal.  

We departed Barcelona on 23 September 2020 for what we later learned was our last trip of the year.  Mom and I had planned a trip from Pamplona to Bilbao passing through Lleida, Huesca and Donostia-San Sebastian along the way.  We would then wrap up with a day in Logroño as a nod to La Rioja and, if time allowed, a quick stop in Zaragoza on the return home.  Somehow, magically, that’s exactly what happened and we accomplished every single thing we had on our “to-do” list.  It was the perfect trip to end the year, even if it was a few months shy of the actual year-end.  

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We took the scenic route from Barcelona – catching the N-240 right away and proceeding almost directly to Lleida and then Huesca.  It was a lovely day and we must have passed literally every possible castle, church, tower, monastery, portal, convent, fountain, palace and/or historical or religious monument available in this region.  It was a tad overwhelming.  If you’re into that sort of thing and you have a couple weeks of life to spare, then I highly recommend renting a car and making this drive.  Plan to spend a lot of time finding a place to park and walking around, however.  Also, please note: traveling in this region of Spain in the late summer / early fall also generally means rainfall should be anticipated.  Pack an umbrella, a Mac and some hardy shoes for sure.  Kind of like any time you plan a trip to Great Britain.  (ha ha)

In fact, we stayed on the N-240 all the way to Pamplona.  What can I say?  It was a good route and we enjoyed all the twists and turns.  Since we left home fairly early in the day and we couldn’t check in to our hotel until the afternoon, we weren’t in a terrible rush to arrive.  Also, hello! V A C A T I O N = time away, so it’s not like we had a clock to punch. As it turns out, we could have been even more leisurely in our progress for the entire trip.  We had allocated more than enough time to see all the sights and we ended up wrapping up much earlier in almost every place we visited.  That never happens!  Go figure.  

Pamplona is so much more than a town where, every year in early July, the men try to play tag with toro bravo bulls running through the city streets.  Although, it is fairly obvious that El Encierro is a big part of the Old Town area as bullfight-related buildings and activities feature heavily on the tourist maps and in nearby shop displays. Pamplona is also the very beginning of the Basque region (located in Navarre) and the first place we noticed the Basque language, along with Spanish, written on signs.  Basque, by the way, is known as Euskara in the actual language and that word alone is an indication of how massive the difference is between Spanish, English and Basque.  Another sign of the lingual complexity is that you can’t actually translate the meaning of Euskal Herria into any other language, although outsiders generally refer to it as Basque Country.  This might be due in large part to the fact that the Basque are actually divided into TWO regions by the Pyrenees – with northern Basque in France and southern Basque in Spain.  Or it could just be that they like having a bizarre, unique language.  Who knows?  Either way, I’m glad that the Spanish government is now taking measures to help preserve this language where they once were much more like France in trying to eliminate it.  

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So, what do you know about the Camino de Santiago?  Did you know that most people start their journey in Pamplona instead of St Jean or Roncesvalles?  I didn’t.  In fact, I have to say that I never really gave it much thought.  But as we wandered around the city of Pamplona, exploring the Portal de Francia, the massive, gothic Iglesia San Nicolás, Catedral de Santa María la Real, Plaza de Castillo, Ciudadela and particularly Jardins de La Taconera, we repeatedly noticed the Camino del Norte signs and symbols that indicated we too were traveling the famous pilgrimage.  That was an unexpected bonus. I also didn’t know that the Casco Viejo (Old Town) of Pamplona is a walled-city.  There are literally 5 Km of walls around the city and they are a well-preserved national monument in Spain.  How I missed that little factoid during our pre-trip research is something of a mystery. Pamplona is also where we introduced ourselves to Pintxos (or Pinchos), a tapas-like serving of the delicious, world-famous Basque food, at a lovely little local restaurant in Plaza del Castillo.  As Mr. Kool-Aid would say, “OH YEAH!”.  

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I loved finally being able to wander up Calle Estafeta to Santo Domingo and see the famous city street first hand.  I could just imagine the people hanging from the windows and balconies and peering through the windows and over the fences as the runners in their white clothes with only red fajas (sashes) and pañuelos (neck scarves) come dashing past, being chased by and even chasing the bulls as they charge toward the Plaza de Toros.  Allita and I discovered the famous statue honoring the tradition (Monumento al Encierro) and she surprised me with a spontaneous burst of speed which I was lucky to immortalized on film.  She enjoyed visiting the Portal de Francia, the old city gate complete with drawbridge, and watching even the delivery trucks try to navigate through the tiny, torturous opening in the wall.  Mom’s favorite part of Pamplona was staying inside the walled-city, which was also a bit of a surprise to her, amazingly enough. 

Our hotel room had a fantastic view (including a nearby fountain) from its beautiful wrap-around balcony and was centrally located which made walking around the city so much easier.  In fact, I rarely do this, but for them I will make an exception:  if you are ever in Pamplona and in need of accommodations, I absolutely, highly recommend the Hotel Avenida.  They were exceptionally helpful, professional, courteous and went out of their way to provide us with an excellent stay.  Parking was secure and nearby, the room was fantastic, clean, well-stocked and ideally located, the price was very reasonable, and the staff were exceptional.   Allita was even able to attend online school classes from the little desk in the room and by using their internet service (excellent WIFI). Unsolicited endorsement concluded.  😉  

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The trip from Lake Maggiore to the Italian Riviera and, finally, the French Riviera, lasted two, incredibly fun-filled days.  We left Baveno and took the A4 headed to Turin and eventually the E717 down toward Savona on the coast.  This route had us passing as close as possible to where Hannibal most likely traveled with his enormous mammalian circus on his way to Rome.  And I thought I had it bad driving this tiny car with 3 sturdy females and a trunk full of luggage!  

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The Italian Riviera is quite different from the French Riviera (Côte d’Azur), although geographically they are extremely close together.  The most noticeable difference, in my opinion, is proximity of the mountains.  In Italy, it feels like the mountains go right up to the coastline.  You drive through a mountain, pop out in a small town and before you know it, you are back in a tunnel going through another mountain.  Often the transition happens so quickly that if you aren’t careful and “look fast”, you can miss the little village entirely.  We developed a system as we progressed down the A10.  One person would look left and the other right as soon as the tunnel ended and they would immediately point out any notable sights.  “Oooh, look at that house up there on the cliff!”  “Wow, there is a massive church steeple!”  “Hey, another waterfall!”  Meanwhile, I just listened to all this talk around me while trying diligently to keep up with the carefree Italian drivers sharing the high-speed motorway.  

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Of course, they aren’t completely different, right?  The beaches are similar – some are sandy lagoons, some are rocky points and some are covered in smooth pebbles of various shapes and sizes that remind me of the river rocks we used in Tucson to channel water.  The towns are similar – a mess of villas, bungalows, palazzos, condos, townhomes and sometimes high-rises, swathed in warm Mediterranean colors and smashed together with tiny streets snaking chaotically in all directions.  And, finally, the people are similar.   The natives are small to midsized, tanned or olive-skinned with dark hair and eyes, suitably fashionably adorned and usually quite friendly and patient.   The tourists are generally the exact opposite in almost every way, usually in possession and use of high-quality technological devices (iphone, camera, Segway) and often flamboyantly parading around all over the place and generally mucking up traffic.  Sometimes, both natives and tourists are like us, driving their vehicles in all directions trying to figure out where they are and how to get where they want to be.  It’s a fantastic collection of sensory experiences.  

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It took all of the first day for us to drive from Baveno to Nice.  On a map, it appears to be such a short distance.  In reality, it might be faster to drive the long way across Tennessee!  We detoured from the A10 right around San Remo.  Remember, the whole goal of this adventure is to experience the world?  So that’s what we decided to do.  See some of the famous Italian coastline, pass through the border at Menton, visit tiny Monaco – the second smallest sovereign state after Vatican City – and, finally, tour a little of Nice, my uncle’s favorite French city, where we were also scheduled to spend the night.  I have been to this section of France at least 20 times in my life but it always takes my breath away.  I love everything about Côte d’Azur.  If time and life allow it, at some future point, I would like to go there with Allita and stay for some weeks so she can explore Nice, Villfranche-sur-Mer, Antibes, Cannes and even Saint Tropez.  But that is for another post altogether.  Allita and I did spend some time visiting the beach just to the south of Nice, near the airport, where she found a tiny conch shell and learned how to skip flat pebbles on the ocean.  

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Thanks to online social networking, I have managed to reconnect with a few very good friends from my teenage years living in Germany and attending the Frankfurt International School.  On the next day of our return trip, I was extremely excited to be able to visit, in-person, with just such a friend who happened to be spending her summer vacation with her family in their Port Grimaud home.  I spent the morning impatiently navigating us along the coastal highway through Cannes, Frejus and finally Sainte Maxime, reminding myself to enjoy the lovely views, point out the interesting and historically relevant sights to Mom and Allita and savor this time with my family, even as I counted down the miles to Port Grimaud.  Here is an important note:  if you are on a tight schedule, do not drive through Cannes.  Even in the middle of a pandemic with tourism at historical lows, traffic was bumper-to-bumper in Cannes and the streets were crowded with pedestrian tourists somehow unable to remain on the walkways.  In addition, whatever progress we might have made was virtually eliminated as our forward progression reduced to a literal crawl when the garbage truck entered the single-lane roadway ahead of us.  Instead of suffering from an anger-induced aneurism, which is a very real possibility when I am stuck in such traffic, I took the time to point out the incredible little shops lining the streets, the lively and vibrant colors of the city, the wide array of architecture and, of course, various and sundry entertaining tourists nearby.  

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After hours of driving along the cost, popping in and out of little coastal towns and marveling over all the amazing sights, we finally found Port Grimaud.  We managed to locate my friend and her family in much the same manner that we located Lake Maggiore, Baveno and our little Italian villa B&B the day prior.  It was a combination of incredible luck and divine intervention.  Ha!  And it was an experience even better than I could have imagined.  I only regret that we couldn’t stay longer and enjoy more time with each other.  Sadly, we were due to arrive at a lovely little gîte in the tiny town of Vauvert right outside Nîmes for the night – about four hours drive away!  The following day was Allita’s 12 birthday.  It was that location she had chosen for us and there that we would start our celebration and the final hours of our trip.  

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