Sunday, April 15, 2012

Cadaques


Without the benefit of Canada's best kept secret -- cold defence ColdFX -- for the first time in years I've had to put up with a cold. Not only that, but companies don't seem to ship it outside North America. The fact that Seamus has joined me has somewhat curtailed our activities. However, we did take a drive over the mountains to Cadaques, the town where Dali painted for many years.

Every trip over the mountains is different and today's was no exception. We passed some of the cows that roam freely over the mountains along with a tiny, new calf. Today orange  poppies and pale pink rock roses lined the road with large swatches of French lavender and bright yellow flowers brightening the hillsides.

Cadaques is always a lively spot to visit with many visitors from France as well as Spain. We opted to have a tapas lunch at Sal, where we sat outside to look at the sea, enjoy the sun and people watch. A brave swimmer, dressed in a wetsuit and flippers and towing an orange float, swam right across the bay and back. A number of people were walking their dogs both big and small, including one very hairy large black Briard with huge feet and and eleven-month-old lovely blonde Leonberger.

People watching is very interesting. Some of the locals still wore their puffy jackets; people from colder climes had shorts and one young lady short, shorts with boots of course. Some French women wore very stylish skirts, while the men still sported their scarves.

Our small tapas lunch consisted of: a small arugula salad with walnuts, currants, sun dried tomatoes and goat's cheese; sardines on top of red onion on a cracker; grilled cuttlefish; and toasted bread onto which you rub fresh tomato. All this with a glass of rosat. Good food and great entertainment from the passers by.


On this visit we walked back through the village square passing more restaurants, little boutiques, a few hotels and homes. At this point we spotted an island with a little causeway connecting it to the mainland and decided to visit it. We followed a shale path, with lots of purple wild geraniums growing out of the rocks, over the stony hillside and down to the beach only to be disappointed that the path to the island was blocked. This was the end of the road.

Retracing our steps to town it was time for a coffee and a little more people watching before returning home.

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