Nice places

Els Ports de Beseit

~ Kate Wilson ~ 3 Comments

We drove first to Falset to see the Auntie and not wanting to disturb her by expecting a bed to sleep in, we decided to sleep overnight in the van

Camping wild!  It’s always a bit of a risk as even when you think you are in the middle of nowhere, there are eyes all around you. And true enough – we were deep in peaceful sleep when the police arrived. I woke up hearing voices, feeling the throb of a running engine and seeing a strong light outside our curtained windows. In the end they did nothing and after presumably taking a note of the UK number plate they drove off down the narrow country lane and left us to try and relax again.

The next day our journey took us further west, to the edge of Catalunya and nearly into Aragon.
The Ports of Beseit, or simply The Ports, are a limestone mountain range which have narrow deep gullies with crystal green water running through and filling large natural pools

 We stayed in a campsite this time – nothing special but a good base for exploring the area.

What I really want to show you are the images of the rocks and the river

 It was how I imagine it could be walking through the Garden of Eden

So clean, pure, natural, beautiful and somehow virgin

Day 1 was incredible with long stretches of water carved pools

Wild rosemary growing all along the paths

I thought it couldn’t get better but Day 2 was amazing

There were more people around but still it felt totally unspoilt

A stone staircase is washed and polished by running water

This stone completely took me by surprise

If you put your head inside the hole and hum or sing, it hums and sings back

 The whole journey was worth it just for this experience alone – doesn’t it make you want to go there?











a change of scene

~ Kate Wilson ~ 1 Comment

We set off in the van heading south. now we are exploring the Ports de Beseit.
Walking along the rivers is like being in a fresh unsullied world. We have seen some magical places.
for now…this is just a taster


Water Does Not Resist

~ Kate Wilson ~ 6 Comments

Saturday was a beautiful sunny day. We left Granollers and the industrial zone of Valles Oriental behind us and headed north to Sant Hilary Sacalm

Sant Hilary Sacalm is known as the town with a hundred fountains. Two generations ago it was visited annually by hundreds of Catalans who came to taste the natural spring waters. There were hotels and restaurants and a busy Casino in the town centre. People came for two or three months in the summer with their whole families. Every year they would stay in the same hotel, walk the familiar pathes which lead to the different fountains, drink the various waters which were known to heal different parts of the body. They would meet the same friends every year and the annual ritual seemed as if it would never change

But now the town is quiet. Many of the hotels have closed down – one has even been knocked down to create a new plaça with a covered market. The Casino and the cinema have disappeared. Habits change and people stopped making this regular pilgrimage to drink the waters

But the fountains are still there

We visited the Font Ferro which heals the eyes

And the Font de Cirers which has the sweetest waters

And the Font del Pic which was not so popular

Font Vella is now the centre of a vast bottled water industry – presently owned by Danone!

That one was surrounded by signs saying ‘No Dogs’. Funny how big businesses go daft!

A lovely town with fresh clear air. I slept all the way home – drugged by cleanliness


“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.” 

Margaret Atwood, The Penelopiad

January Walk at Sant Nicolau

~ Kate Wilson ~ 1 Comment

It is no secret that I love the Alt Empordà

My spirits rise when I see the mountains in the distance and the green fields spreading out on both sides on the road. This time I asked myself, at what point do I start to feel that shift in energy which tells me I am arriving?   I was travelling in the van with Bonnie up the AP7 and I think the change happened when I crossed the River Ter which flows from the mountains to the Aiguamolls.
Seeing the snow-peaked Pyranees gives me a similar shiver to the one I always get on seeing St Michaels Mount in Penzance.
Home again!

In the distance the Canigó is covered in snow

The almond blossom is out

There is flowering rosemary on the country lanes

and here are my favourite letters carved in stone on the lane to Sant Nicolau
 
One day I hope to live here – it’s a place that inspires you
Cap a la part del Pirineu,
vora els serrats i arran del mar
s’obre una plana riallera,
n’és l’Empordà !
Joan Maragall

La Molina

~ Kate Wilson ~ 1 Comment

We took the train from Canovelles Granollers Nord on Saturday, risking snow and freezing temperatures to go to the mountains to look for mushrooms.
Ah the mushroom hunt!  It always takes place in wooded areas and you can’t walk along the main pathes but must bend and twist under branches and through thickets.
All very slowly!
For me it is an act of love to go along as I want to walk fast and forward, especially when it is so cold.  I don’t think I am a natural mushroom hunter and I am not crazy about eating them either.
But the colours were lovely

 The area around La Molina where we got off the train was almost deserted

 Except for fierce looking cows with large horns which would appear as if from nowhere to scare us

 The town itself is hardly a village and almost all the houses were shuttered up as it’s not skiiing season yet. I suppose this is what a resort looks like in the low/dead season

 There were three lonely cafes open and when we went into the one by the station we were the only customers.  When we came back to catch the train home the temperature had dropped radically and the station was as totally empty as the town. For about 20 minutes I considered the prospect of being marooned there – freezing to death without even a hotel or a taxi to save us.  But the train arrived and we were warm at last and Bonnie slept all the way back.
Bonnie had a lovely day and we found many mushrooms, some of which we ate on getting back home…..and survived.

And there was a Dolmen -always a nice reminder of Cornwall.   Next post will be more on the mushroom theme but here are some crocus I found on the way – such a surprise!