Only one sleep before I move from Collioure and already I have made 10 trips up the hill to my car. I could have brought a family of 8 giants with me and not needed to pack so much – what was I thinking? And how is it that the stuff that fit in the boot on my trip over now spills all over the car. I’ll be very surprised if there is room for me by the time I’m finished. I may have to hire a car and tow mine behind.
And how on earth am I going to unpack the car at the end of my short journey? My new home in Argelés sur Mer is on a narrow street with no parking allowed. I’m told that locals do park on the street but only to collect or offload stuff. I’m not sure if anyone has spent 3 days unloading ‘stuff’ but I suspect I will need that long. And it’s not that I have added to my vast hoard since I arrived. I have either drunk or eaten everything I purchased during the past 3 months, bar a rather fetching pair of espadrilles.
Anyway, I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last post but you’ll be please to know that I sorted out the car insurance problem, thanks to FBD. In fact, big thanks to FBD who have been really helpful in making sure I am insured for unlimited european travel. So, let it be known that if you ever plan to spend more than a maximum of 60 days on mainland Europe with your Irish car you will not be insured. Unless you go to FBD. I know this sounds like an ad but it’s not, honest. Unless, of course, FBD wants to send me loads of money??
More good news. My ducks had a baby duck! Remember the two who followed me up the street? Well, they’ve produced a diddy little
ball of fur that follows its mother everywhere, the father having done a runner (or should that be a ‘waddler’?) in the tradition of daddy ducks. I regret that I will not be here to see the baby grow but I’m sure that mammy duck’s extra-loud and constant quacking will ward off all predators and keep diddy duck safe.
Two old friends (I haven’t actually known them that long) paid a very welcome visit making my last week here a mix of mad and marvellous. I introduced them to Café Sola, Les Templiers, Kir Catalans and local anchovies. They introduced me to Cava. Fair exchange.
First, though, we spent a couple of days in Barcelona. And here’s a tip if you’re planning a visit. We found ourselves a stunning 3 bedroomed apartment for less than the price of a hotel stay. And if it hadn’t been for the snoring indoors (no names) and the opera singing on the street outside (at 5 am) we’d have slept like ladies who’ve had a few Cavas deserve to. We gorged on tapas, gothic buildings, Gaudi and more Cava. And we loved the spirit of the place (and the fact that a decent bottle of wine was only €2.95).
Driving back to Collioure in the gorgeous sunshine it felt good to know that the disappointment of my companions (so called because they won’t let me tell you their names but hereinafter to be known as Mabel and Edith) at having to leave Barcelona would be wiped out by the sight of my special place. And so it was. The best of both worlds, city and coast. There followed several days of constant sunshine, lazy lie-ins, gluttonous grazing and even a few swims on the part of the hardy Edith.
While Edith and I took our siesta one day, Mabel arrived back looking a trifle flushed. She had been tottering around the (cobbled) town on her 5 inch Stella McCartney heels when she came upon the wetsuit-clad soldiers doing a few manouvres. She tried a few of her own but, since they were under water and she was towering over everything except the church spire, feedback was limited. Edith and I were obviously disappointed to have missed the spectacle but were rewarded the following, and last, day when we all trooped
down to the pier to take a boat trip. There they were sitting on the wall waiting to jump into the water, all clad in rubber. What with this feast, the beautiful weather and calm sea, by the time we had finished the boat trip we were in a state of advanced bliss.
There is no better way to end a day in Collioure. Let alone a 3 month stay.