We’re sitting at the table discussing the day’s weather and considering whether Rachael should go for a bike ride today and walk tomorrow or vice versa when I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye and see a small bird working the roof tiles on the church across the street. It’s a black redstart, a common enough sighting here but I grab the camera anyway because it’s so nice to do your birdwatching from the comfort of home. I just manage to get off one so-so shot before he flies off.
Frustrating little guy. You think he could give a sideways glance before flying off.
Today’s the best biking day, we decide. Arguing against it is that Rachael biked just yesterday and would probably prefer to alternate biking with hiking; and that it’s windy today, expected to average maybe 15 mph or so for most of the day. The argument in favor is that it’s a gorgeous day today - sunny, clear, and reasonably warm; and tomorrow isn’t expected to be windy, it’s expected to be very windy with averages more like 25 mph. If it really ends up that way she definitely won’t bike tomorrow, so today it is.
I study the map taking the wind direction from the north into account, and come up with a reasonably easy ride southeast to the nearest point on the bay. With minimal climbing and winds that in general should be from the side it looks like we should have an enjoyable ride. And it’s an out and back again, so if the wind feels like too much of a factor we can just turn back.
The ride begins with the stiffest climb of the day, steeply up past the Salvador Dalí museum to the next street up before turning south toward the coast.
Biking east out of Figueres as I did the last two days is great, at least if you’re starting in the cultural center like we are - a quiet, easy ride of about a half mile brings you to the edge of town and into the country. Biking south isn’t like that though, and it’s nearly four miles before we finally break free of the urban and industrial sprawl in this direction. I don’t want to say it’s unpleasant actually - well, actually it is pretty unpleasant and frustrating, and I’m feeling badly about dragging Rachael along on this crummy route I picked out - but after that the rest of the ride is excellent. Quiet, empty roads, open fields, an occasional small village, views of the mountains.
Oh, and one more thing: this must be one of the clearest skies I can remember. The mountains are absolutely stunning, clear and sharp for the entire extent of the range. And Mont Canigou, the highest peak in the eastern end of the Pyrenees, isn’t just completely visible for the first time since we’ve been here, but it’s got snow. It’s a remarkable contrast to those dense cloud layers hiding the mountains that we’ve been admiring for the last few days.
Or probably since we’re in Catalonia we should be using the Catalan name for the great mountain, Canigó.
Canigó! I was shocked when we came to the top of a small rise and I looked back.
This is the typical look for today’s ride, once we’ve left the city: open, flat fields, wide views, mountains on the horizon. Here we’re looking northeast toward Roses and Cap Creus.
It’s not like it was when we were here in 2017 when the Catalonian independence referendum was being held, but there are still plenty of visible signs around favoring independence.
The agricultural village of Vilamacolum markets itself as a totally rural community. At the turnoff to the village there’s a sign with arrows pointing toward other destinations if you’re traveling by the likes of a bus or camper.
I should spend more time in totally rural communities. In this one I’m excited to see a sharply marked brown and white raptor with an almost piebald look circle above. Back home I might have wondered if it was an osprey but this is a booted eagle, only my second sighting ever.
The Romanesque Santa Maria de Vilamacolum church was first mentioned in 1094. I’m annoyed with myself now that I didn’t take the time for a side view also. An interesting side note: It’s ringing out eleven just as I pass by; and it’s ringing out noon when Rachael and I return.
Scott AndersonTo Karen PoretYes, but only in a very general sense. The size, shape, density and materials all affect the pitch and quality of a bell, and churches with multiple bells like this have bells on different pitches that are in tune with each other. Reply to this comment 1 month ago
I’ve of course gotten behind Rachael with my photo stops but I never lag too far back. She’s been at our end point for about five minutes when I arrive. She’s standing on the sandy beach with her bike admiring the views when I pull up, and then while I have my look she wanders off to find the nearest tree, which isn’t very near at all.
And for the third time today I’m stunned by the views. The entire extent of broad Bay of Roses is clear, except for a few faint wisps in the sky off west in the direction of Barcelona. It’s a remarkable sight, one we nearly have to ourselves this morning. There’s one other woman and her child walking in the sand a few hundred yards off, but other than that the beach is deserted.
Astonishingly clear. Here we’re looking at the complete extent of Cap Creus, with Roses on the left.
The view to the west toward Emporda. Between this and the previous photos you can get a good sense of scale for the bay, which is roughly 12 miles across.
The ride back is more of the same, except that the winds are a little stronger in this direction, the few rises seem a little harder, and we’re both pretty wearied. By the time we make it back it’s sinking in that I’ve done a fair bit of riding in the last four days. And the last four miles getting into the city are if anything more annoying this time, maybe because it’s later in the day and the traffic is worse.
We stop in Sant Pere Pescatore so I can get something of a photo of its church’s bell tower. There’s another of those Catalonian independence ribbons, but there’s more to see besides.
I beckon Rachael over to my side of the street so she can see what I’m seeing, but I’m not quite quick enough for a good shot of the colorful figure walking by.
And we’re hungry! It’s Monday and not many things are open today, and it makes us anxious when we bike past the one we ate at two days ago and see that it’s jam packed already. Were in luck though, and after hurriedly dropping off the bikes and changing our clothes we head down the hill a block to the restaurant we hoped to eat at and are shown to one of its last unreserved tables.
It’s a nice place. It features an attractive decor, with brick walls lined with enlarged photographs of figures like Edith Piaf, Maria Callas and Eldridge Cleaver. On the wall is another vintage motorcycle, which I assumed was another Hispania like I just saw in Peralata until I look at its photo now. And while we wait for our meals to arrive we delight in stealing glances at a curly haired toddler at the next table, repeatedly grimacing, turning her head to the side and clamping her mouth tightly shut when her dad tries to spoon something into it.
And, in a first, our goat cheese salads come accompanied by a blow torch to sear them before us at the table. I quickly break out the phone camera, and our server obligingly waits for me to get prepared before blasting away.
You’d think I’d recognize this famous face right off, but it took some research.
Bob KoreisBy zooming in I could just make out GAC. As best I can tell it's a Mobylette-GAC AV-27, built under license with Motobecane.
Here's a bit of history: https://www.okpoolack.com/en/blog/post/23-mobylette-gac-history-and-evolution-an-icon-of-two-wheelers Reply to this comment 1 month ago
Scott AndersonTo Bob KoreisGood sleuthing! And you’re right about it being. Motobecane - we went back there for lunch today and I took a closeup. Reply to this comment 1 month ago
