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Barcelona And Antoni Gaudi
“Who knows where the road may lead us, only a fool would say Who knows if we’ll meet along the way Follow the brightest star as far as the brave may dare What will we find when we get there” Lyrics from “La Sagrada Familia” by the Alan Parsons Project To visit Barcelona is to enter the world of Antoni Gaudi. What was he? Genius or nut job? Inspired or crazy? And what was his work? Flamboyantly brilliant or belligerently ostentatious? The bravest of designs or art for art’s sake? Inspired architecture or the world’s first Disneyland? Whatever your take on it, he still has everyone talking almost a century…
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Barcelona Revisited
Would it be appropriate to call it culture shock, leaving behind the vineyards, villages and mountains and being transported in a comparative instant to the international tourist maelstrom which is Barcelona’s La Rambla? Well it’s certainly a significant change of scene. The place is absolutely alive with people and activity in exactly the way we remember it, and Barcelona feels as joyous and energetic as ever. It’s a fairly long time now since either of us have been to Barcelona, and we haven’t previously been here together, so this is a reacquaintance with different memories for each of us. Some things have changed down La Rambla since our last visits:…
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Last Days In France: Down The Valley Of The Têt
Dark clouds sometimes gather over Le Canigou, the iconic mountain of the Eastern Pyrenees which looms over our village, and during one evening we catch the sound of distant thunder rolling around the towering giants, but Vernet-les-Bains stays dry. The last drop of rain we saw was when the heavens opened in Paris almost three weeks ago; the summer sun has been in charge since then. Our village of Vernet-les-Bains is so good, its beautiful mountain setting enhanced by the little square where Bar Chez Jean-Louis serves beer to weathered old guys endlessly puffing on cigarettes and the tapas bar next door gives us a little foretaste of the Catalan…
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Into The Pyrenees: Mountain Hikes And Marvellous Trains
After a run of apartments we’re now in a middle sized family run hotel in the beautiful Pyrenees mountains in Vernet-les-Bains, a quiet and ancient hot spring spa village nestled among the towering peaks. We arrive with the mountains basking in the glorious afternoon light of bright sunshine, then watch in delight as the evening casts the mountains as yet darker shadows against the darkening sky. Overnight, cool mountain air fills our room through the open door to the balcony – it feels so long since we felt cool air – and by morning the silent giants form a blurred jagged line in the misty light. Mountain views from a…
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Southbound Again: Wine Into Water
It’s getting pretty hot now. The dashboard temperature gauge blinks up to 37 on the drive back across country and we are hearing whispers of a Mediterranean heatwave which could at the very least break the 40 barrier in the coming week, so the vaulted ceilings and tall windows of our next apartment are a welcome sight. This place must have been a truly grand townhouse in its day. Built in 1735 and not converted to apartments until 1980, it’s our guess that the original owners, a family named Roques-Guilhem, had the 18th century equivalent of big bank accounts. The airy living room is a blessing: since leaving Paris two…
- Europe, France, History, Independent travel, Photography, Travel Blog, Walking, Wildlife, World food
Carcassonne And On: Wine, Music, Food, Wine…And More Wine
Walt Disney is said to have loved this place so much that he modelled the castle of Sleeping Beauty on it. Up there on on the hill it looks like everyone’s idea of a fairy tale setting, with its perfectly cylindrical turrets pointing upwards so precisely that it’s tempting to look out for Rapunzel letting down her hair or some other damsel in distress calling out for help in the hope that her knight in shining armour appears over the horizon. The damsels, though, are tourists, and so for that matter are those coming over the horizon. Carcassonne is a town of two halves however you look at it. The…
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Black Bulls, Roman Ruins And A Missing Ear: From Aix To Arles
It was a waiter in Aix who first gave us the idea. “If you love Aix”, he said as he put down our sparkling golden beers on the table, “then please go to my town, Arles. It is even more beautiful than Aix”. Well, it’s going to have to go some to achieve that, but maybe we should give it a go – why not? And so we hatch a new plan. Counter intuitively, all the websites tell us it’s quicker to make the journey between the two towns by taking one train down to Marseille and another back up country to Arles, which feels a bit like going from…
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Fountains & A Festival: Avignon & Aix
Aix-en-Provence is known to some as the “city of water” and to others as the “city of a thousand fountains”, both nicknames stemming from the numerous natural springs dotted around town. In fact, there were once more than a hundred fountains here, though probably not a thousand, and nowadays something like 30 remain. Losing ourselves in these quaint streets, emerging from beneath plane trees to bright sunlight and from narrow alleys to open squares is utterly delightful; Aix is so very attractive, a lovely, welcoming town. Each of the fountains in Aix tells a story, each has its own character, but perhaps the most quirky is Fontaine Moussue, the “mossy…
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Southwards To The Lavender Fields: From Paris To Provence
If one of our hopes for this adventure was to find quaint provincial towns with ancient and historic centres, then as we carry our backpacks from the bus station through the winding narrow streets to our apartment on the third floor of an ageing town house, we are overflowing with the feeling that we’ve hit the jackpot straight away. Welcome to Aix-en-Provence, where the squares are oozing splendour in the hot afternoon sun while the ancient plane trees which line its boulevards offer shade to anyone with a bit of time to spare. The bells from the clock tower resonate down the tight streets as we find our way to…
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A Brief Stay In Paris: The Journey Begins
If like me you’re a lover of train travel, a trip on Eurostar always feels special. Maybe it’s something to do with us Brits being islanders, but the very thought of boarding a train in one country and leaving it in another is one which is full of excitement and possibly even romance. However we’re just a little bit gutted to find we’ve been allocated the only seats in the carriage which aren’t next to a window – somewhat bizarrely, this is the THIRD successive Eurostar trip where this has happened. Given that there’s 90-odd seats in a carriage we are either seriously unlucky or we’re missing the clues when…
