Saturday, October 27, 2007
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Destination- Cadaques
We decided to spend our day in the small fishing village of Cadaques.
It was an easy 45 minute drive from Jafre, pretty much a straight shot through wheat fields and small, dusty villages. Shortly before the outskirts of Roses, we encountered a hellacious traffic snarl, due to road construction, which slowed everything to an obstinate snail's pace.
The slow down occurred at the least appealing part of the drive, in the midst of strip malls and mucho ugly commercial development. There was one humorous moment, though... as traffic lurched along and we passed one of those kiddie play parks that probably would involve putt-putt golf if it were in the US of A. It was populated with a multitude of giant clown heads, and I had a sudden epiphany as to why so many people develop an ungodly fear of clowns in their childhood(let alone adulthood). Despite the dark and unintended humor of the clown heads, our patience was wearing thin, when we finally came to the end of the construction zone, traffic cleared up, and we were rewarded with scenic vistas as the road wove it's way up and through the coastal mountains and on towards Cadaques.
Since we had just passed Roses, I couldn't resist the opportunity to bust my DH's chops and try to convince him that we had dinner reservations that night at Ferran Adria's restaurant, Il Bulli which is located in Roses. He was blissfully ignorant of Il Bulli's significance in the cult world of gourmets and foodies. I explained to him that Adria was the chef who first championed 'molecular gastronomy', reducing food down to foams and unlikely concoctions... that it takes six months to get reservations if you are lucky...Moi, I've yet to taste Senor Adria's cuisine, or experience a meal from any chef who follows in his footsteps, so I have no relevant culinary opinions. For die hard foodies, it's supposedly the experience of a lifetime. When I revealed how much a dinner at Il Bulli would cost us (about 200EU/pp...over 300USD/pp with the current horrid exchange rate), I had a good laugh as DH screamed and protested that I was an evil liar. I took great delight in admitting that yes, I was truly an evil liar.
We passed through the mountains and began the winding descent down the one road that takes you to Cadaques. The road travels through the Parc National de Cap de Creus. The terrain is beautiful and rugged. It is covered with deep pine green brush, olive trees, ochre-colored sandy rock. And today, it was gorgeously framed today by a bright blue sky that enhanced the deep blue waters of the Mediterranean.
Cadaques was even prettier than we expected. The bright white buildings were like freshly washed linen set out to dry on a warm summer day. There was a small artisan's market set up. It was delightful to see a market devoted entirely to local culture, in contrast to the usual weekly markets we love to visit. A smith forged iron tools. Several women sat around a table, tatting beautiful lace by hand. A group of musicians played music and there were of course, many stalls devoted to food that looked simply scrumptious. My biggest regret of the day (aside from not getting a photograph of the evil giant clown heads), was that I didn't by a Caganer from the vendor who was selling them.
Caganers are figurines of 'people' taking a crap. Yes, pooing. They are placed the in a discreet corner of nativity scenes at Christmas and are (according to my guidebook) a "very sacred tradition for the Catalans" and "pure fun". I had my choice of crapping angels, firemen, policemen, nuns, etc. But I hemmed and hawed, thinking it would be easy to find a little crapper in another town. I was wrong. Oh well, our Christmas will be shit free for yet another year.
After browsing the market, we settled down on the beach for yet another rather blissfully uneventful day of swimming, reading and sunning.
It was an easy 45 minute drive from Jafre, pretty much a straight shot through wheat fields and small, dusty villages. Shortly before the outskirts of Roses, we encountered a hellacious traffic snarl, due to road construction, which slowed everything to an obstinate snail's pace.
The slow down occurred at the least appealing part of the drive, in the midst of strip malls and mucho ugly commercial development. There was one humorous moment, though... as traffic lurched along and we passed one of those kiddie play parks that probably would involve putt-putt golf if it were in the US of A. It was populated with a multitude of giant clown heads, and I had a sudden epiphany as to why so many people develop an ungodly fear of clowns in their childhood(let alone adulthood). Despite the dark and unintended humor of the clown heads, our patience was wearing thin, when we finally came to the end of the construction zone, traffic cleared up, and we were rewarded with scenic vistas as the road wove it's way up and through the coastal mountains and on towards Cadaques.
Since we had just passed Roses, I couldn't resist the opportunity to bust my DH's chops and try to convince him that we had dinner reservations that night at Ferran Adria's restaurant, Il Bulli which is located in Roses. He was blissfully ignorant of Il Bulli's significance in the cult world of gourmets and foodies. I explained to him that Adria was the chef who first championed 'molecular gastronomy', reducing food down to foams and unlikely concoctions... that it takes six months to get reservations if you are lucky...Moi, I've yet to taste Senor Adria's cuisine, or experience a meal from any chef who follows in his footsteps, so I have no relevant culinary opinions. For die hard foodies, it's supposedly the experience of a lifetime. When I revealed how much a dinner at Il Bulli would cost us (about 200EU/pp...over 300USD/pp with the current horrid exchange rate), I had a good laugh as DH screamed and protested that I was an evil liar. I took great delight in admitting that yes, I was truly an evil liar.
We passed through the mountains and began the winding descent down the one road that takes you to Cadaques. The road travels through the Parc National de Cap de Creus. The terrain is beautiful and rugged. It is covered with deep pine green brush, olive trees, ochre-colored sandy rock. And today, it was gorgeously framed today by a bright blue sky that enhanced the deep blue waters of the Mediterranean.
Cadaques was even prettier than we expected. The bright white buildings were like freshly washed linen set out to dry on a warm summer day. There was a small artisan's market set up. It was delightful to see a market devoted entirely to local culture, in contrast to the usual weekly markets we love to visit. A smith forged iron tools. Several women sat around a table, tatting beautiful lace by hand. A group of musicians played music and there were of course, many stalls devoted to food that looked simply scrumptious. My biggest regret of the day (aside from not getting a photograph of the evil giant clown heads), was that I didn't by a Caganer from the vendor who was selling them.
Caganers are figurines of 'people' taking a crap. Yes, pooing. They are placed the in a discreet corner of nativity scenes at Christmas and are (according to my guidebook) a "very sacred tradition for the Catalans" and "pure fun". I had my choice of crapping angels, firemen, policemen, nuns, etc. But I hemmed and hawed, thinking it would be easy to find a little crapper in another town. I was wrong. Oh well, our Christmas will be shit free for yet another year.
After browsing the market, we settled down on the beach for yet another rather blissfully uneventful day of swimming, reading and sunning.
Nearby Cadaques in Portlligat, is the house that Dali lived and worked in from 1930 to 1982. Reservations are needed if you are planning to visit. We opted not to visit this time...but have heard it's a fascinating experience. Also nearby is Pubol Castle, the castle Dali bought for his girlfriend Gala. Since our afternoon was dedicated to pure decadent nothingness, we decided to save Pubol Castle for another visit too.
As we were leaving town, DH spotted a store with wine casks in the window. Like a big game hunter, looking for the next exotic kill, he begged to go in. They had casks of sangria, and he snared his next trophy...his nalgene bottle filled with sangria.
We drove back to Las Nenas, freshened up and then set out to Girona for the evening.
Girona has a lot of history and and a wonderful energy. In hindsight, I wish we would have had more time to experience it all. We arrived at about 6pm, and spent the the first hour exploring and walking around. From our short visit, I got very positive impressions.
We wandered through the old Jewish ghetto. I was floored by how narrow the streets were. I found it ironic, that a ghetto cleared out by a catholic regime, is now a chic and desirable place to live. We wound our way through the old passageways, and eventually 'stumbled' upon the majestic cathedral of Girona.
When I say, 'stumbled', I'm actually being quite literal. In the square below the cathedral, I was trying to maneuver myself to get the best possible photographic angle. I was more focused on getting the shot than paying attention to my surroundings, and up ended myself over one of the cement pylons which protect the buildings from any vehicular traffic. It was downright embarrassing (and literally made me nauseous from impact), and knocked the wind out of me.
When my coordination and alertness gets that bad, I know it's time to sit down and have meal. So we immediately set out to find a place for dinner. I was in Spain, so I was determined to have some authentic tapas.
After a little meandering, we found a tapas bar/restaurant that looked cozy and inviting. We both ordered a glass of wine and then filled a plate with tapas from their selection- potatoes bravas, lots of anchovy pintxos for me, bread topped with tuna, serrano ham. I had fun sampling all the little dishes, but DH wanted more of a meal.
The waiter showed us to table in the quiet and secluded alleyway behind the restaurant. We enjoyed a wonderful meal. I had a grilled shrimp and avocado drizzled with a reduction of balsamic vinegar and my husband a goat cheese salad. We ordered a Catalan rose that went perfectly with the meal. Simple dishes, well presented and tastier than I would have expected.
After dinner, we enjoyed a stroll down Las Ramblas and along the canals to see the famous colored houses before heading back to Las Nenas. Back 'home', we ended our evening in the garden again, gazing up at the stars and enjoying a nightcap of the sangria as we nibbled at the leftover dessert from the previous evening. A sweet ending to another sweet and lovely day.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
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