Tossa de Mar to Peralada via Girona

Hmm, we’ve been in a few tight spots but this takes the biscuit. A plan of escape has been made and skilfully executed in front of our onlookers (2 German mohos and 2 Dutch caravans – all out having late breakfasts…). Yes, we reversed out and up the wrong way on to the road as quickly as we could, phew that’s a relief. It’s a short hop to Girona, but it did involve that horrid twisty road out of Tossa but we made it unscathed.

We pull up to the secure aire we planned to stay in only to find a French van’s bum hanging over the curb. OK, it’s because the aire is shut on a Sunday, how bonkers is that! Off we go to Plan B which happens to only be a couple of kilometres away. Sheesh it’s a large car park with evidence that many cars have been performing donut’s here, most likely in the wee small hours (according to ‘Park 4 Night’ this is what can happen – just didn’t expect to see such obvious evidence!). Kettle on and ‘Park 4 Night’ fired up we find a Plan C.

With pinkies crossed we speed along the main Spain to France route which is heaving with MoHo’s and caravans; thankfully they are on the opposite carriageway. Before you can say ‘where’s my glass of vinho’ we arrive in the small town of Peralada.

GerTee is parked up in the 6 bay aire (42°18’21.61″N 3°0’30.42″E) which happens to be smack bang in the Centro Historique and is a gem of a find.

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Lovely quiet cobbled streets run up to the Plaza Major with some of the oldest houses we’ve come across.

The town is deserted as it’s siesta and it’s chuffin’ scorchio, but large storks are flying above our heads, so it’s us and them! The storks are part of a large local colony and apparently this time of yesr is nesting season for them. They are part of a conservation project and so the young will be ringed before they migrate off to Africa in October.

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We also spotted grey parrots nesting in hive shaped abodes high up in the trees and are wondering if they also pop over to Africa with the storks… answers on a postcard if you will!!

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Where’s the parrot?

Still deep in Catalan country the support for their imprisoned leaders is reflected in the emblem of yellow ribbons which are found on doors, gates and anywhere else they can stick them.

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About 9pm we hear an orchestra tuning up and hoards of the well heeled variety arriving in spanky cars. Ooh, what’s occurring?, only bloomin’ opera which we are not big fans of and it doesn’t properly begin till 10pm. They should know I’m in me PJ’s by then, but to be fair it did sound like a quality gig, just a shame it finished at 1.30am… more bags under our eyes.

However we both agree that these little aires in out of the way places are akin to the jamboree bags we used to get as kids. Cos you just never know what you’re gonna pull out, some stuff you love and some you loathe.

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