After four night in Céret, we leave this morning for another four night stay, back on the coast again in Collioure. And after that? Yet another four nighter, just over the border in Llançà. Team Anderson is really starting to warm to this Slow Travel craze that is taking the travel circuit by storm!
Leaving Céret. It’s Monday morning, the market is gone, the streets are much quieter when we bike out of town.
We feel exceptionally lucky this morning as we bike out of town on a cool but sunny morning. Yesterday was off and on wet, all of the coming three days look wetter still, but today is quite beautiful - the best luck you can hope for on a travel day. We won’t like being constrained by the weather when we get to Collioure, but there are way worse things than seeing the rains pour down on the town on a day when you can just stay indoors and keep warm and dry.
There’s not much to say about the ride to Collioure, which generally trends downwards s we generally follow the Tech to the sea. Except that we get a gorgeous, clear view of Mont Canigou not long after leaving town ; and the navigator planned well for a lucky change and we enjoy a beautiful, quiet ride all the way to the sea before turning west at the end to Collioure; and we were at first annoyed but then tickled when we were held up by a car blocking our lane and seemingly stalled at first, until we realized it was traveling about three miles an hour with a tow rope hooked to its front bumper. At the other end was a huge wooden vat, maybe filled with wine mash or something like that, with a team four carefully steering it down the road. It was that kind of day.
Oh, and Rachael reminds me of how much fun it was climb the final ridge east of town, a steep and rough one on the ancient route to Perignan, steep enough that some dismounting and pushing was called for.
We spent much of the morning’s ride biking alongside long rows of plane trees.
I’m pointing here to the mirror, hoping we might capture a team selfie on the GoPro, but we’re not in luck this time. I’ll have to remember to watch for other opportunities.
A gorgeous view of what I think is Caginou. Its a late fall this year, with no trace yet of snow on the mountains. Maybe the coming rains will change that.
In Saint-Genis-des-Fontaines I hold us up to stop at an interesting church we’re passing by. Later I’ll learn of its importance. It was a stop on the route to Compostela, but more impressively the lintel over its portal is recognized as one of the very earliest Romanesque sculptures, dated in its stone inscription as 1020. It’s Sunday morning and there’s a service in session, otherwise I’d have lobbied to stop for a look inside.
Oh, I found a translation. It reads “Anno videsimo rege Wilielmvs Dei gratia aba isa opera in honovr fieri ivssit sancti genesii cenobii that vocant Fontanas”. This translates to “The twenty-fourth year of the reign of King Robert, abbot Guilhem by the grace of God, ordered to do this work in honor of Saint Genis monastery called Fontaines.” The year referred to is 1020.
Suzanne GibsonOur visit to St. Génis de Fontaines 17 years ago:
https://www.cycleblaze.com/journals/2007france/perpignan-st-genis-des-fontaines-end-of-the-line/ Reply to this comment 1 month ago
Scott AndersonTo Suzanne GibsonThanks for posting this. It’s what makes Europe so endlessly worth exploring. There’s no end to the remarkable wonders you’ve never heard of before. This one makes me want to come back again and go inside next time. Reply to this comment 1 month ago
We arrived in Collioure around one, anxious to find an open table on Sunday afternoon. We had previously scouted out four different restaurants all near our apartment and planned on just stopping off at them all until we got lucky wit one. It didn’t take long as the first, L’Escale Bleau, was nearly empty. I thought we were going to be turned away though when I stood at the open door holding my bike to ask if they had a table for two but the woman frowned and shook her head insistently. It took a minute to understand that she meant we couldn’t bring our bikes inside and needed to park them around the corner instead.
Once that was settled though, we took a table just inside the door, as far in as she was willing to let us enter - she must have had some experiences with scruffy bikers in the past. It all worked well though, we enjoyed a fine meal, and while we were waiting for the dessert course Rachael texted the host of our apartment to let her know we’d arrive in a half hour.
Collioure is an expensive town, one we almost decided not to stay in at first until we found a reasonably priced apartment in a good location that looked satisfactory. And it is satisfactory, but has its quirks. For one, it’s split-level - the bed is upstairs, the tiny bathroom and shower are downstairs; so there’s a safety concern if a midnight run to the loo in the dark is called for, as is normally the case with us. For another, it’s quite dark - completely windowless, although there are a couple of skylights upstairs which are useless if you spend all of the time downstairs until bedtime.
But it’s good enough, and the location is good, and since this afternoon looks like by far the best weather we’ll see in our stay here I go out for a walk not long after we’ve settled in. And if you’re lucky enough to have ever been to Collioure you know what’s in store - in my view at least, it’s one of the prettiest coastal towns in France.
The back streets of Collioure look well worth exploring, but for now I just glance up into one and head for the waterfront.
The misunderstanding isn’t surprising. For one thing, the Royal Castle is right in front of the church and looks like part of the same complex if you stand in the right spot.
There’s much more to Collioure than its church and bell tower though. To the west we see its still operational windmill and Fort Saint-Elme. Rachael’s hoping for enough of a break in the weather to hike up there before we leave.
The view of the coastline to the east. I can’t tell how far we’re looking here, but it’s at least to Angeles, Saint Cyprien and probably Leucate. We could even be seeing as far east as Agde.
Scott AndersonTo Suzanne GibsonOh, thanks for the reminder. I realized I’d left it out and then forgot to go back and add it. Reply to this comment 1 month ago
