Category: Beaches

The song title from the 90’s UK group The Style Council seemed apt for this blog article as I had spent six weeks away at the height of summer. Initially I was glad to escape the heat and the crowds, decamping to the UK and Ireland.

If you reside here in Catalonia or on the Costa Brava then you will feel accustomed to summers arriving early, meaning earlier than usual and the double whammy being higher than average temperatures. It’s been like that in recent years.

There’s little doubt that climate change is impacting most of us worldwide and Spain has not escaped its share. It’s been experiencing prolonged drought conditions that are no joke. In recent times we’ve had highs of 40 degrees in early June, that’d be considered unbearable even during August.

We now spend much of our free time in L´Escala, just 45 kms from Girona, a popular Costa Brava resort for many nationalities, not just Catalans. The French are here big time as second home owners and tourists, and by my reckoning are followed by the Belgians, Dutch and Germans in equal measure. I still see a few English number plates but I reckon Brexit put paid to a lot of what are referred to as ´swallows´.

For anyone unfamiliar with the term it was applied to those Brits who migrated to sit out the winter months in sunny Spain. No harm in that but Brexit changes mean that if you’re British you can only stay within any EU country a maximum of 90 days before having to return home. Luckily for us we have resident status so different rules apply.

So, for the first time in ages I was absent during the peak times on the coast. Glad of the lower temperatures in London, I forgot how quick the weather can and does change. Showery days can quickly change your mood and limit what you can do. Shopping trips to the preponderance of high street charity shops and nipping into the local ´spoons´ (an abbreviation of the pub chain Wetherspoons) became the norm.

I still feel a bit nostalgic about UK pubs, but not about the prices of alcohol.

One uneventful month later it was time to move on to the Emerald Isle. Our brief trip was part holiday, part tracing family history. The inclement weather seemed to be following us but it’s no surprise, Ireland is green for a reason.

I tried not to feel too homesick for a clear blue sky, the warming glow of the sun on your face- and not having to pay five times more for a bottle of wine than in Spain.

It might be the last hot gasps of summer but no need to put away your flip flops just yet, there’s still plenty to celebrate during the first weekend of September. 

Like the proverbial London red bus, when it deems to arrive there are three of them all at once. So it is with three festive morsels on offer, all on the same weekend, the hard part is choosing.

The first is L´Escala´s own three day town wide party or´festa´and seems the obvious choice as we are holidaying here anyway. Then there’s the Fira d´Indians in the quaint hilltop village of Begur, a 3 day celebration with a Cuban theme that’s hugely popular. 

Lastly there’s a medieval weekend in the pretty village of Besalu, near Banyoles. We went there once many moons ago. The one common theme amongst them all is the dreaded problem of finding a parking space.

The clincher for us was the promise of an overnight stay from a friend in Begur, which meant we could stay much longer, enjoy the festival and not have to worry about driving home. We’d been to the Fira d´Indians back in 2019, and then Covid put a stop to future years until it restarted last year.

I’m sure I’ve written about it in a past blog post somewhere within the archives. It’s been going for about 20-odd years and has its origins in some past citizens of Begur who emigrated during the last century. They made their fortunes from such things as sugar plantations in Cuba. Many subsequently returned and built large colonial style houses. which are dotted around town.

That could be a touchy subject nowadays, amongst those who take a dim view on such colonial activity and exploitation.

I’m not sure if the organisers have a view on all that and it doesn’t seem like it detracts from visitors looking at just dancing the night away. Who even knows what the average visitor thinks, and I don’t want to go down some cultural cul de sac.

Getting back to having fun, the balmy Saturday night we were there was rammed full of people, the majority dressed in white, the de rigueur attire. As always with such summer events things don’t kick off until late. Feeling hungry then forget about getting a table as the wait would melt your mojito. There were numerous street food stalls and pop up bars dotted around its buzzing centre. 

Although salsa beats were permeating the myriad of narrow streets, the big draw seemed to be the local park. A large sound stage with an open area for gyrating couples, surrounded by food / drink stalls. Don’t expect a peaceful night’s sleep as a succession of bands and DJs pump out Latin sounds into the early hours. It’s easy to get caught up in the energy and vibe in this Cuban enclave. 

https://visitbegur.cat/en/fira-dindians-fair/

(part 3) We’re fast approaching the xmas festive season (late in publishing) and I’m trying not to resort to those expressions we use when places are so quiet, like ‘would the last person turn off the lights’.

Solitude sucks for some, others lap it up, I may be somewhere in the middle for now. At least there’s us two and the two dogs, a reason to go out. Sure, the long morning beach walks are uplifting, especially when the sun’s out. 

The sea view here in L’Estartit is dominated by the Isles Medes, a series of rocky outcrops a mere few hundred meters out. Now a nature reserve and popular diving spot. To my left the coastline disappears, slithering its way to the next resort, L’Escala. To the right there are distant views of inland Pals, the jutting headland of Begur and those upmarket beach resorts like Sa Riera .   

Much longer beach walks are possible in a southerly direction, about 45 mins will take you to the mouth of the river Ter (la gola de ter). That’s about as far can go, as there’s no bridge across here, as the soft sandy banks shift too much.  During the summer you’d just wade across or for fun walk up river a bit, jump in and drift slowly down with the current.

However, this is winter and there’s no ferryman.

Life in L’Estartit slowly develops at its own pace, our daily beach walk encounters may include other dog walkers and even the odd metal detectorist. I’ve heard they’re illegal to use on a beach here but then this is Spain. People’s attitude to rules are different-seen more as guidelines and not to be strictly adhered to.

On windy days when the sea is rough you see small groups of surfers, but this isn’t exactly dramatic ‘wipeout’ territory. Even when wearing wetsuits it looks too cold. As I traverse the vast expanse of sand I still continue with my ‘good dead for the day’ by picking up rubbish whenever I see some.

On days when the wind really whips up the sand to sandpaper proportions you appreciate the might of nature. I’m starting to realize what it feels like inside a wind tunnel.

As our adventure in L’Estartit enters into early November the recent winter time change has meant it’s dark by about 6pm. As long term residents we know the score, begrudgingly accepting this annual change. 

It always feel like a major step change, a cut down version from balmy long summer days. There’s the reassuring compensation that sunny days can still hit 20C by about lunchtime, enabling outdoor pastimes. 

In our Girona apartment it was always a running joke that we didn’t turn on the central heating until November. A red line not to be crossed. 

Cooler days and nights have meant digging out warmer clothing, a gentle but firm reminder of seasonal change. Jumpers, scarves and hats that haven’t seen the light of day for several months are resurrected.

We’ve replaced urban living for big skies and XXL wind, boy does it blow up here. Not all the time mind you, and if I’m honest friends had mentioned it before in passing. Night time requires lowering the persianes as howling gusts of wind rattle them, reminding me of the film ‘The Shining’. I’ve heard Catalans mention that the Tramuntana winds here do affect some people’s psyche. 

We’re surrounded by a sea of boarded up holiday apartment blocks. A few show signs of year-long residency, as window and balcony shutters stay up. Visually there are a few parked cars, and a passing car is evidence that we’re not completely alone.

At long last we get to try the heating options here. Remember these places are mainly summer residences and heat insulation is largely an afterthought. Bedrooms have an electric wall-mounted radiator, and the living room’s AC unit pumps out toasty levels of hot air.

The missing link is the bathroom with its stone floor tiles and large window. We’ll just have to wait and see what can be done. The other bugbear is the limited amount of kitchen worktop space, and dim lighting. We’re reaching the minimum requirements for the formation of a to-do-list.

The daily morning walk to the beach with our two dogs continues regardless of the weather. One visibly loves it, tumbling in the sand, while the other gives the impression of do I really need to be here. Occasionally we stumble across a dead fish or seagull, why do they always want to rub their faces in such dead detritus.

As I walk along the windswept pristine shoreline I can’t help picking up rubbish, mostly the odd tin can and bits of plastic. On one outing some kids saw what I was doing and added to my bounty, well done to them. 

Thursday is Estartit’s market day which stretches out along a handful of streets a few blocks back from its seafront. I’ve been twice and there’s little to get excited about, a lot of clothes, bric-a-brac and bags, with a sprinkling of fruit and vegetable stalls opposite the church. I spot red chillies so grab a few, plus some red peppers and a dozen figs, all for less than 2€.

I keep hearing a lot of French spoken so it’s no surprise that I come across a French bakery in town. El Pa de l’Anna is small with an adjoining workspace where two bakers were hard at work. I managed to buy two small tarts, one chocolate, one lemon, two croissants and two small filled baguettes, one with chorizo, one with blue cheese and walnuts.

I walked out a mere 10€ lighter but was pleased with my choices, let’s hope they don’t close for winter.

I have to remind myself that this is a small town with equally small expectations given the time of year. Its ‘life and soul’ has retrenched until at least the spring, or a little later.

My next foolish quest is to find somewhere that offers an all day English breakfast.

A lot of people from Girona ship out to the coast at the height of summer. This familiar annual migration creates sparsely populated neighbourhoods that are eerily quiet.

Some of the lucky few are fortunate to be able to make use of a property bought by their parents, or shared between the families.

Prices were so much cheaper and affordable back when the Peseta ruled. The unlucky ones make do with renting for a week or two. Holiday rentals generate a substantial income for owners, albeit for a short period, chiefly July and August.

Canny regulars are known to book the same place year after year to ensure they get their slice of the sun. Those of us looking for something last minute are often disappointed with what’s left.

We’ve done it in the past, and you can expect to pay 700 to 800€ for a 2-bed flat for 1 week. That’s not even on the seafront, those frontline properties are naturally the first to go.

The other great bugbear is car parking, which can be extra or as happened to us one year, meant parking a 5-10 minute walk away. If you’ve got pets like us then that narrows the field even more.

The vacation agony is also compounded by long traffic queues waiting to get into resorts too. The summer of 2021 may have seen less Brits but a large influx of Northern Europeans made the season a much better turnout than the year before.

Kids decamp to the coast when the summer term ends in late June, with mum and dad commuting into Girona daily. Places like St Antoni de Calonge are like Giron-by-the-sea as we always bump into someone we know 90% of the time when we just go there for a day.

A good many 2nd residence owners are stuck in their ways, and tend not to visit their places out of season, even when it’s fine weather. In the thick of winter, coastal towns are so quiet you begin to feel like the last person on Earth.

So, being British and used to cold, windswept, barren, grey-skied seaside places we decided on a bit of reverse psychology. Let’s rent a seaside flat or apartment for the winter period and see if we like it. 

The good wife was also keen on living a more relaxed lifestyle, and as long as the internet connection was good enough, she could still work remotely. Oh, and we also needed a place which accepted dogs, as we have two.

Recovering economies seem to focus people’s minds on ways to earn extra money, especially after the Covid experiences of early 2020. Trawling the popular Spanish property websites like Idealista, or checking local Facebook groups yielded a few results. Our net was cast wide and we didn’t have a firm favourite location.

Anywhere like St Feliu de Guixols, L’Escala or Platja d’Aro would be okay. We also started asking people and friends we already knew, and we were offered a flat in L’Estartit. 

I’d always admired the wide expanse of beach here and the ease of free parking just next to the beach itself. True, it doesn’t feel as posh as somewhere such as S’Agaró or Calella de Palafrugell, more like a poor relation.

L’Estartit is a little grittier, with few hairs and graces, happy to have sand kicked into its face.

So what did we get? 

A cosy sunny 2nd floor flat with 2 bedrooms, 2 balconies, a 10 minute walk to the beach. The front balcony looks out onto a large campsite, closed for the season. It catches the sun for most of the day, has ample seating, a top spot for a morning coffee.

Being late October the walk into town is a largely lonely outing. We’re near a motorhome site so bump into the occasional winter tourist. I see a few French cars in town and hear a lot of French spoken. Hardly surprising as we’re so near the border, even restaurant menus have French translations-at the expense of English ones. 

Walking haphazardly around it’s no surprise seeing so many shops and restaurants closed for the winter. But, a good few are still hawking their menu del dia which I’ll be reporting upon more. The town even has two Indian restaurants open all year-if you’re not from the UK this fact is a reassuring slice of home.

This solitude thing may take a while getting used to after having lived in a bustling, noisy Girona ‘barri’ (neighbourhood). 

On the other hand the fun part of any new location is checking it out. Not just where to eat or shop, but good places for a coffee, or a sunset drink. 

We’re here until June 2022 so I’ll be adding to the winter rental story periodically.