So there I was on the back of the bike wondering what to do with the rest of the weekend, and feeling a bit aggravated. We got to Figueres and I started looking out for signposts to the station. Then we went over a railway track and, turning my head to the left, I saw a train station. I said nothing.
We continued through Figueres and took the road that leads out of the town towards Olot. Right on the edge of Figueres we came to a sign to another station, what seemed to be the main line. I said nothing, we didn't stop.
Oh, I thought, maybe I am not being dropped off. I'm quick like that. It was only when we got to that dump Olot that I knew that either my DB had forgotten I was still there, or he had decided not to drop me off. When we arrived at a traffic light, I poked him and said "I'm still here you know" to which he said "Come on, I'd never drop you off and bugger off on my own". I thought this was a) sweet, b) foolhardy cos now I know..., c) a bit cheeky because I may have made other arrangements although of course I hadn't.
So we agreed that it was better to continue on good terms and off we went. Olot was too much of a dump to spend any more time than it took to pass through, and we eventually ended up in the delightful town of Camprodon not far from Mollo.
We found a very cheap hotel which was also perfectly reasonable and booked to have dinner there that evening which was at 9pm (!). After a snooze, we went out to explore the town.
|Camprodon's 12th century bridge. Love the violent orange-painted building next to it.|
|Me going across the bridge|
|Empty streets, tapas bar on right|
|Lovely Roman arch and fab door on 12th century church - Llanars|
|Very clean, smart and prosperous - Llanars|
I get the impression it's an area where you can eat well, because not only was there the El Forn restaurant, but there was another one too, the Can Jeroni. On our way back we passed yet another restaurant, Can Po, that had a row of Porsche cars parked outside and delicious smells emanating from the inside.
That night, we couldn't wait for the 9pm dinner, so we got take-away pizza and ate them in our room with some wine. I saw the next day a sign in the lift (that we hadn't previously taken) saying 'no eating in rooms'. Oh well.
It was not the most gourmet holiday I've ever had, but it was certainly a mostly lovely four days in Spain, and we'll forget the domestic as a now extinct blip on the radar.