We took a boat trip up the coast to Cadaques, a village where Salvador Dali spent some time. There is a statue of him in the town near a bar to encourage people to stop and take photos and have a beer, which we did.
The town is not at all like Roses in that it is a little more of a traditional fishing town without any, or much development. Still, the beach is made of rocks and not sand and there are hills behind the beach, so the hour or so we spent there was mostly in the lower parts, near the Dali statue.
The boat trip home from Cadaques was entertaining with a long chat to the boat hand who had received a clip on the ear by the flash on my camera when it popped up as he was passing by. I gave his ear and neck a friendly massage and he took my camera and took a photo of us before sitting down to chat for an hour. He was from Morocco and reminded us, Tom and Kay, of a grown up Ronaldo.
We cleaned out the car and found beers and wine we had bought on a whim over the last few weeks so thought we should at least make some effort to savour the local wares we had tasted then bought weeks back. So, needless to say, the last couple of days have been lazily spent with liquid lunches, afternoons and evenings trying to get rid of the four bottles of wine we found rolling around the car. By this evening we managed to get rid of two and a bit but had made no impression on the beers I bought weeks ago in Madrid. We decided before dinner to take them down to the restaurant and give them to the food and beverage manager to distribute to his workers.
He was a serious faced man with not a lot of hair, correctly dressed in shirt and tie and each night directed us formally, with not much of a smile, to our table.
“We’re going home to Australia in the next couple of days, so we’d be happy for you to give these to your kitchen staff for Christmas,” I said handing over a big shopping bag filled with a dozen cans of beer.
His serious face disappeared and he smiled for the first time in three days and took the beer to the kitchen.
“That was easy. Just a bottle and half of wine to finish and that’s it.” we said to each other and sat down for dinner pleased to see the manager was happy at last.
Before we had a chance to get up for the buffet, a bottle of red wine appeared at the table for us, compliments of the kitchen! We ate and left half the bottle for the kitchen and waved good-bye to our new found friend in the manager who beamed at us as we climbed the stairs to our room. Gee this is good fun!
We drive to Barcelona tomorrow and fly home on Sunday so once again, that’s about it, folks. See you all soon.