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Wednesday, May 22, 2019

April 19th: Llanca to Cadaques to Girona

When I originally planned this trip, everyone told me that I should visit Salvador Dali's house in Cadaques, and that it was a great ride from Figueres. That plan got completely derailed by the holidays, because the house visits were completely booked up over the internet for the entire week and beyond!

In any case, I wouldn't have made it to the house anyway, because my plan was to get on the early train so I could make it to Figueres by 8:30 and ride to Cadaques. For whatever reason, the early train was cancelled, as were several other scheduled trains, and we only made it onto the train at 9:30. We knew this wasn't us being idiot tourists, because local Spaniards were also nonplussed when the scheduled train didn't show up!

Well, the time spent waiting wasn't a total loss. I looked at the forecast for wind coming from the North-East, and stared at the map of the train layout, and realized that the train went all the ay to Llanca, further up the coast. Not only would this shorten the ride, it would grant us a tailwind all day! Since we'd only paid for train tickets to Figueres, I walked up to the counter and asked if I could change the ticket to Llanca and pay the difference. The counter agent nonchalantly said: "Just stay on the train. If the conductor asks you can just pay the difference."

The train showed up, and it was only a 20 minute ride to Llanca, whereupon we got off and rode towards Cadaques. The views along the coast were glorious, even though we were further from the Mediterranean side. What I would realize later was that the train went all the way to Cerbere (or Portbou on alternate cars) which was where my 1998 Tour ended, at the Spanish border. If I had known that, I probably would have gone for a more ambitious ride, though Mike probably would have demurred.

At Port de la Selva, the road turned inland and we started climbing towards Cadaques. The ride was pretty and the traffic light, though I was dismayed that at the turn off to Cadaques, most cars were headed for Cadaques, and the road didn't grant us many places to stop for the glorious views of Cadaques.
Cadaques reminded me of Santorini, except that none of the roofs were blue. We rolled into town and saw that most cars were directed to park into the parking lots, so we explored the town by bike, getting pictures and seeking vantage points afforded by the extra mobility that gave us over the pedestrians.

We ate a sandwich breakfast/lunch (because even the roadside shacks weren't serving lunch yet at 12:00pm!) and then paid a visit to the Dali house before leaving Cadaques to confirm that indeed, as the internet had said, the place was fully booked with no exceptions allowed, unlike Neuschwanstein, where some tickets were held in reserve for people who showed up early. (Not that we were very early!)

By the time we left Cadaques, the incoming traffic had turned the highway into town into a parking lot. The climb up was fairly easy, but the traffic meant that there was usually a car behind you. In California this would lead to a lot of stress, maybe some road rage, and some idiot trying to squeeze past you. In Spain, drivers would wait patiently until you found a place to pull over or it was safe.

We descended into Rose, and then rode through Castello d'Empuries, which featured river crossings and houses that, according to Mike, looked amazingly like some parts of Florida. The ride back to Girona was powered by a strong tailwind, as expected, though of course, I couldn't resist routing in some hills on the final approach into Girona to avoid the high traffic roads. This time, we realized something we didn't earlier, which was that when you get into town, all you had to do to get to the hotel was to follow the railroad tracks to the hotel. The bridge under the railroad also served as a bike path, conveniently enough!
We finished too early to consider dinner anywhere else but L'Aglica, and were once again treated to an amazing meal by the restaurant owner. Visiting the local bike shop, Mike had obviously gotten his groove back, and when they suggested the Olot route, he enthusiastically paid the 2.50 Euro price so we could have a long ride the next day. The forecast started to look grim for the days after tomorrow, so that might have factor'd into his decision.

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