INTO SPAIN, Vacations, Flights and Tours

Posted on 05/30/2016 | About Spain

It was early this year when I finished a column on this site with the words “… but now we have plans to travel farther afield via a different mode of transport. Stay tuned!” So, as promised, I now take up that story.

We were on our boat in Valence, France, tied up in their marina just south of the city. Valence is a charming spot beside the Rhone River, surrounded by cliffs and distant mountains. It has a delightful old town, lots of restaurants and patios and a beautiful park running from the city to the riverside. But it was winter and we were living aboard in a 42 ft space. The sun was setting early and as ‘downtown’ meant a cycle ride we tended not to eat dinner out. So, we formed another plan for winter. 

We rented a motorhome for three months! We signed the necessary papers and picked it up in Sens, just outside Paris. We drove it back to the marina where, although the vehicle was well-equipped, we ‘robbed’ our boat of a few comfort items: small rugs, cushions, books and DVDs. Then off we set. I’m always excited at the prospect of a day’s road trip, so you can imagine how I felt with three months ahead of us! Our plan was to head south and, although we are not really ‘beach people’, we hoped to find some rather better weather than what is to be expected in the Rhone Valley in winter. 

But, on our second night, high above Millau on France’s southern Massif Central, the weather gods played a trick on us and delivered five inches of snow at -5 degrees! We had taken this route towards Spain in order to see the renowned Millau Viaduct, described by many as the most beautiful bridge in the world. It certainly is spectacular but, if the desire to see it again ever overcomes us, we will not go in winter! 

The coastal regions of southern France towards the border were also chilly with snow flurries, but ‘Spain’ has a sunny ring to it and we were approaching the border so we were not disheartened. Border posts between European Union countries tend to be non-existent these days … convenient, certainly, but lacking that old feeling of excitement. This was certainly the case as we passed a deserted post covered in graffiti, its windows smashed and there we were … in Spain! 

We hugged the coast road south, the sun came out and we started to marvel at the beautiful scenery: the sparkling Mediterranean, the white cliffs, the fishing villages and the vineyards stepped upwards from the coast, but after a few miles we headed inland towards Figueres. 

This gracious old Spanish town is famed - justly - for its Salvador Dali Theatre-Museum. As you drive into town you can’t miss this bizarre building (yes, once a theatre) transformed by the Master into his surrealist dream. Dark red walls, massive white eggs around the roof, a glass cupola, weird and wonderful statues everywhere: divers, dancers, knights and warriors with baguettes on their heads, an enormous face with a television screen in his forehead. 

Well, if you’re familiar with the work of Dali, you know what to expect. Though I must say this museum is a constant surprise with its equally fascinating, labyrinthine interior providing stunning photo ops at every turn. Don’t miss it if you’re ever near Figueres. It’s a very unusual treat. 

Still southwards we drove, with Barcelona in our plans. Unlike our overnight stops thus far, which had been in attractive rural areas, the only place for motorhomes in that city is in a vast car park used, on one side, for marshalling trucks with a space for motorhomes on the other side. It is surrounded by walls covered with very competent (and amusing) graffiti, so hardly a beauty spot, but the usual facilities (toilets, showers, laundry and WiFi room) were provided and the metro to downtown was right next door. 

We spent four days in wonderful Barcelona. We took the hop-on-hop-off bus on both its offered routes. We wandered the famous pedestrian street known as Las Ramblas, found quaint little tapas bars in the old town (if you go, please search out tiny Bodega la Plata at Merce 28 for wine and their non-stop supply of fried sardines), discovered the famous food La Boqueria food market and marvelled at Gaudi’s still-unfinished towering Familia Sagrada church as well as his many other ‘mad’ creations around the city. 

Valencia was next on our city list. Here the site for motorhomes was a charming spot with a little restaurant some miles out of town. “No worries,” said the owner, “we’re on the metro. But you have to hail the coming train, like a bus!” A novel experience, that’s for sure. This we did and enjoyed Valencia for several days. Once again there’s an atmospheric old town, but some things here are unusual. First, the long park complex that was once a river and, second, the massive modern Cuidad (city) del Artes and Sciences near the harbour, created by Spanish architect Salvatore Calatrava, whose work can be seen in many world cities, including Toronto! 

As we drove on down the coast the weather became more summer-like and we began to see people enjoying beaches and patios. But it was mainly cities (most hitherto not visited by us) that were in our plans. The road from the coast inland to Granada is a tribute to Spanish engineering and planning with its bridges and tunnels making for a smooth ride. 

Granada is bustling, with a beautiful old town of white houses, glimpses of gardens, terrace bars and winding alleyways, all overlooked by the mighty Alhambra, which is, of course, a ‘must’ visit. You can easily spend a whole day there, enjoying the castle, the museum and the serene gardens and ponds of the adjoining Generallife. Go as early as you can as, even in winter, there are crowds, though the site is so large this does not affect enjoyment. 

The helpful owner of our Grenada motorhome campsite, which was located on a bus route on the outskirts of town, persuaded us to attend a flamenco dinner show. We were afraid this might be rather touristy but he assured us we would enjoy it, and indeed we did. The Sacromonte caves, which honeycomb the hillside around Grenada, are believed to be the birthplace of flamenco, where the gypsies who once lived here would dance and make music to entertain themselves in the evening. In our cave restaurant we enjoyed a good dinner and a small but passionate performance. 

By now we had become immersed in the Spanish way of life: we’d absorbed some of its turbulent history and were enjoying some of its art and architecture, we were no long surprised by lunchtime closings and siestas nor by the very late dinner hour, we studied the paellas displayed in tourist restaurants and recreated them sometimes in our own tiny kitchen, we enjoyed the modus operandi of tapas bars, often ordered sangria, and in every city searched out the fine food markets. In several little restaurants, after expressing an interest in the food, we were offered dishes to sample without charge. And after admiring the gateaux on offer in a coffeehouse the smiling proprietor sent a platter of samples to our table! 

We know that Spain is suffering from the financial crisis and from unemployment, but for the visitor this is not apparent. The cities are busy and bustling, the restaurants and markets full and nearly everyone we encountered was happy to at least attempt to speak English. We were loving it, and I’ll tell you more another time!