In Figueres: the Cantallops Ride

November 9, 2024

Now that we’ve figured out how to find our way to the bathroom and back out again and have mastered the lighting system we’re finding our apartment in Figueres to be pretty perfect. It’s probably the best layout for a multi-day stay that we’ve enjoyed in quite a while, maybe the best of the season.

And we’re enjoying Figueres too, more so than the previous two times we stayed here. For one thing, we’re in a much better location in the cultural center of town rather than a ways off as the hotels here are. It’s hard for to beat being within a block or two of several enticing restaurants, a few bakeries and a gelateria, as well as probably the main cultural attractions - the cathedral and the Salvador Dalí museum.

What’s really sweetened it this time though is the weather. Yesterday was fine, and today is finer. The next three look windy but fair as well.

It looks like another acceptable day lies ahead.

There is one thing that could probably be improved though from Team Anderson’s perspective - it’s not the most enticing spot as a hiking base. It’s a better one for biking really, because except for the low hills to the west on the other side of the tracks and highway you have to put in five or more miles before you get beyond the flat apron that surrounds the town in three directions enough to get above the plain for any views. Rachael’s found a couple of reasonable looking walks for herself, but on at least one of our days she’s going to join me on a bike ride.

For today though she picks the hilliest of her walks, the one that goes off into the hills to the northwest. As often happens, she gives a mixed report when we discuss her twelve mile walk over lunch. On the negative side, she didn’t get too far into it when she found herself slogging down a wet dirt road thick with red mud and quickly clogging up her clogs. It didn’t take her long to decide that this wasn’t working out for her but she had no trouble finding alternatives in the maze of trails through these hills.

On the plus side, there’s a very nice pedestrian bridge over the railroad tracks; and with her Garmin keeping track of her route she felt safe in just improvising a new one since she could always just backtrack her way home again; and she really enjoyed poking around a colorful quarry of some kind. Even better though was that she came upon a sheep drive. And best of all? She got to be a part of the drive when she helped scoot a stray back to its flock that had broken loose and was wandering her way.

So, on the balance quite a good day for Rocky. But how about Scott?

It didn’t take long for Rachael to decide this wasn’t working for here and she needed a new plan.

She enjoyed wandering around this colorful quarry but was careful to stay well back from its steep dropoffs.

Get back, get back, get back to where you once belonged. Get back, sheepie.

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My plan was an out and back ride to the entertainingly named town of Cantallops, picked because it’s at the end of one of the few quiet, minor paved roads to the east. There are actually quite a few paved roads radiating out from Figueres, crossing the flats and either ending in the foothills of the Pyrenees or continuing up into a mountain pass; and there are countless unpaved roads well worth exploring too, I’m sure. I picked this one though because the roads look among the quietest in my reading of the map, and I’ve always had a burning urge to see famous Cantallops, and the distance and challenge are right for the situation. If I keep on task reasonably well I should be able to get to Cantallops and back in time for our two o’clock lunch reservation, even slowed down by my gearing issues.

I time box myself though, planning to turn back by noon whether I’ve reached my goal or not. Reaching your goals is important of course, but avoiding another volley of Rockydarts®️ is too.

One thing I like about Figueres is its scale. I’m only about a mile into the ride and already out in the country. Here, I stop to admire the autumn giant reed harvest.

Smart! Provides an extra layer of insulation, I’m sure.

Two miles out of town and the views open up. Here we’re looking northwest toward what I think must be Els Hostalets. I love those spiky formations in its background.

And looking straight to the east I get my first look at Peralada, a town obviously worth a look.

Five miles into the ride I come to Peralada, the largest and most important spot on the day’s route. Actually I hadn’t planned to stop here at all, and my mapped route just skirted its perimeter. Once I’m here though it’s obvious that it needs a look inside so I detour and get myself trapped by it. I don’t make it out for about a half hour, jeopardizing my chances to reach Cantallops.

Peralada is a significant medieval small town with ancient roots. Some of its original walls and a gate have survived, as well as its impressive twin towered castle. I miss seeing the castle somehow though, which mystifies me now. It’s a small place after all, so how can I have failed to see this?

Peralada Castle was built in the 13th century and enlarged in the 19th. It sits outside of the town walls, so it’s not surprising I missed it I suppose. So I missed the casino that sits there too. There’s always something to come back for.

Which is fine. I’ve seen castles, and I’m not into casinos. What tends to interest me more is just poking around places like this seeing what I see. I came out a half hour later ignorant of the castle I didn’t see, and not feeling shortchanged.

Entering Peralada through the Portal del Pont.

Peralada was a stop on the route to Compostela. Note the way marker on the wall on the right.

There’s a celebration of some sort going on, complete with gigantes and like we saw in Avila half a year ago. It’s a birthday celebration, the tenth anniversary of a venue opening onto the square.

Gigantes! It’s nice to be reminded of that day in Avila that I haven’t thought of for months.

In Peralada. The red and yellow in the window is the reflection of a stripes on the event stage (the colors of Catalonia’s flag). I took a close-up of the window but it didn’t look like much of anything so I left it out.

In Peralada. That’s the bell tower of the church of Saint Marti in back.

Leaving Peralada through the Portal del Pont.

I’m feeling very pleased with my stop when I leave the historical center through the Portal del Pont, but one more sight stops me before I leave; a gorgeous vintage motorcycle parked in front of an antique shop. It’s a Guzzi! Moto Guzzi has been manufacturing motorcycles for over a century. Here’s their origin story from the Moto Guzzi website:

The date is 5 March 1921. The setting is the office of notary Paolo Cassanello, on Corso Aurelio Saffi in Genova. It is the moment “Moto Guzzi SA”, is officially founded, a public company with the intent described as “The manufacture and sales of motorcycles and other pertinent activities associated with the engineering industry”.The partners are Emanuele Vittorio Parodi, a high-profile ship owner, his son Giorgio, and Giorgio’s friend and ex-fellow pilot in the Italian Airforce, Carlo Guzzi. Giorgio and Carlo had been great friends with Giovanni Ravelli, also a pilot, who had died on 11 August 1919, and it is in his memory that the winged eagle is incorporated into the Moto Guzzi logo.

It’s a Guzzi! Moto Guzzi has been manufacturing motorcycles since 1921. I wonder how old this one is.

Well, actually this one is a Moto Guzzi Hispania, manufactured in Spain by Óscar Ravá. Ravá, a Jew, was a Fiat director who fled Italy to escape the fascists during WWII. The first Hispanias were produced in 1949, so it’s no older than that.

So that used up pretty much all of the disgressionary time I had available if I’m going to make it to Cantallops by noon so I pretty much just ride the eleven remaining miles to get there, ignoring the birds and stopping only occasionally for a photo along the way. It’s a fine ride on a fine day, roads are quiet, the scenery increasingly dramatic as I draw nearer to the mountains.

An excellent riding day, even given that I’m pushing into a headwind as I bike north.

Pyracantha angustifolia: a species of shrub in the rose family known by the common names narrowleaf firethorn, slender firethorn and woolly firethorn.

Sant Amanç, an abandoned 17th century Romanesque chapel north of Peralada.

Look at the hut, but look at the sky too. Conditions are changing.

Cantallops comes into view. Looking at it here it’s easy to believe that the pavement ends there.

The last few miles are gradually uphill and into the wind, slowing me down a bit. I’m not really sure I’ll make it by noon, but as I ride I’m recalculating how much time I really need to get back before two. Between wind and gravity I should make pretty good time on the return even with my limited gearing options.

Mas Bell-Lloc, a neoclassical farmhouse from the 18ch century.

I’ve cut it close, but it’s just turning noon when I cross a small bridge and enter Cantallops. It delights me that the clock tower is just chiming out the hour when I pull up beneath it. I listen to the reverberations of its bell slowly dampen away, and take a video to remind myself of the moment. But that’s as much time as I can spare. Fortunately I find Cantallops the town to be much less interesting than Cantallops the name so I’m not tempted to linger long before turning around and starting the long coast back home. And it does go fast - I’m home by not long after 1:30, and not long after my starving partner just arrived herself. There’s just time for me to stash the bike in the apartment and hurriedly change my clothes while she walks down the street to claim our table. All is good.

The sky is getting gloomy to the northwest. We’ll be seeing some precipitation before the day is out.

I get a better look at Sant Climent on the way home.

It’s just as well I’m heading back as early as I am. Canigou is hiding in there somewhere, I think.

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Today's ride: 32 miles (51 km)
Total: 4,718 miles (7,593 km)

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