Forays into Spain

When in Cerbère, it's only a brief nip over the border - about ten minutes by car, five by train and an interesting ramble of about half an hour up a hillside behind Cerbère - to cross into Spain.
Long gone are the days of border control although the vestiges are well apparent in the shape of the now-graffiti covered customs buildings. Here's an image of what it used to look like.

                          

We like Port-Bou. It's rather like a mirror of Cerbère with its huge railway sidings, although a little bigger in the way of shops and restaurants. On the port-side is a clutch of good and inexpensive eateries, our favourite being The Voramar - this for slightly more extravagant occasions as its a little more up-market than its neighbours - that said, it's still a lot cheaper than anything similar on the other side of the border. At time of writing, our beautifully prepared and rather Nouvelle Cuisine menu, including 'amuse bouche' and selection of olive oils to taste was still just under 20 euros a head.

                       
Port-Bou, for those who like, as we do, slightly 'Insolite' as the French say (a little odd, atypic, weird even) places, this is a must with its relaxed and slightly run-down air, sea views, and little interesting-to-explore back streets.

Port Bou Ramblas at night

                       
Moving along the coast a little, the towns become a little busier and more sought-after, the prices in the estate agents windows reflecting this.
Inland is well worth an exploration (in car, as I don't think buses are much of an option, or a good hike - excellent sign-posted footpaths everywhere.)
This time we did a tour around various villages and small towns, many of them featuring beautiful old stone buildings, little shady squares and . . . no humans, or virtually, although we were there on a Sunday afternoon so probably everyone was eating or sleeping off eating.
Peralada was particularly lovely and I think if it had been in France might have given a 'Plus beaux village de France' badge.

                                 

                     

I can't remember which village this was but I loved this communal hall and the strange but rather wonderful tea we were served

First swim of the year

This morning at 8.30 with a few bemused 'Cerberians' looking on . . . the water was about 18 degrees, I think, but certainly above the extremities-freeze point.
After breakfast, I walked up to the lighthouse point and looked across to, Port de La Selva and Le cap de Creus, the atmosphere bright and clear, and, NO wind - quite unusual for this particular point of land. The early spring brought much rain and the resulting wild flower carpet of pink, yellow, lilac and white was truly beautiful.
This afternoon I may take the one euro bus and visit Collioure - a good time to go before the crowds start appearing in May onwards. Or I might just sit, drink tea and read in the deckchair that has been languishing on our terrace through the winter . . .

Update: I did go to Collioure on the one euro bus - a vertiginous route of about 45 mins, and came back on the train: a straight, relaxing journey of 15 minutes, with equally lovely views - cost three euros 75. Personally, I'd not buy a beer/ice cream and go for the quick ride.
Collioure was, as ever, absurdly pretty, hence the buses of tourists already arriving - I'd thought it might still be out of season, but I enjoyed rambling around the old streets and this time went up to the old restored windmill which is well worth the small trek, for the mill itself and the wonderful views.
Back in the main town, I had a cup of tea, earwigged the various conversations around me, sketched the harbour and returned to Cerbère where there were about three people on the beach and no nicknacks or ice-cream.

View from the walk up to the Cerbère lighthouse

Looking towards Le Cap de Creus in Spain

View of Collioure from near the windmill

my favourite Collioure house

Ceramic lizard souvenirs 

May in Cerbère

Things are happening - like our building being re-painted after the town council had suggested many times that it could do with it . . . yes, it was looking a little 'tired' after the wind and sun have battered it for ninety odd years. So, coming soon, a ochre-coloured façade with the mouldings in off white, apparently . . .

                     

Nature is blooming everywhere including on the roof opposite where two baby herring gulls wander precariously on the tiles waiting for the next parental-food visit. Its wonderful to watch if not a little anxious-making as chicks have been known to fall to an early death. The woman upstairs told me that the same pair have returned to nest on the roof for thirty years. I scoffed (politely) but then went to check and, yes, they can live into their late forties!



                                             parent and ball of fluff chick behind her/him

Other nature blooming are the wild flowers. It's very hot for May this year but there's still a wonderful showing of yellow and white daisies, broom, mallow and herbs.
In the mid-afternoon I tested the water in the town bay and it was perfect for swimming (about 18 degrees?) - no one else in though . . .

                                              

After a good ramble over the cliffs, I went to see what Jean-Michel of 'La Coba' had on offer for supper and requested just a small portion - he always ignores this! But it was fabulous. Early night after more strolling and admiring the rather incredible sea and sky-colours that evening.

                         

                                                    small platter!





                        Following day looking back to Cerbère on the Banyuls road.

Early April in and around Cerbère

The Tramontana wind was whipping around the streets of the town when we arrived causing the singing railings to really do their full repertoire. Braving the elements after settling into the flat, we walked up into the pine forests at the back of Cerbère and observed the after-rain mass of wild flowers, some I've never seen on previous Spring visits.



The sea was a myriad of blues from deep aqua to violet, the waves topped with flecks of white, and the sky a mass of white clouds against vivid blue, moving swiftly from the direction of snow-covered Canigou mountain.



View from above Cerbère when the wind had dropped - a bit . . .



Platane trees near Cerbère church in the last light.

We returned to the town centre, bought supplies, cooked ratatouille back at the flat and settled down for an evening of reading which rapidly turned into sleeping after the drive, wind and sea air.

The following day was a time of discovery of 'what's over the border' a bit more. I'd been to Port de la Selva before but Mark hadn't so that was the objective, except we never got there, distracted by an extraordinary building on top of a hill. I turned left, followed a small road and ended up in a little village called La Vall de Creu.
Mark, seeing a challenge, donned his walking boots and set off to walk to the perched building (in fact the ancient Benedictine monastery of St Pere de Rodes). I followed for a while and then went back to explore the village which had a beautiful source dated 17 something (other carved numbers sadly part-covered by some bit of crap plumbing) and a lovely stone church - sadly, not open.
After walking and exploring, we returned to Cerbère via the Voramar restaurant in Port Bou. Mark had been there before and wanted me to experience the food and ambience. Fantastic! Anyone visiting this area should book a table: amazing: very reasonably-priced food, beautifully presented by welcoming, polite staff wearing black gloves . . .

                        

                              The tiny church at La Vall de Creu



                     Wild lupins

                            

                                                     Port Selva from the valley at Val de Creu



Mark's main course of Dorade fillet at the Voramar

Almost got in the sea

But not quite. It was tempting, and I did wade in with trousers rolled up but that was it. Actually the temperature was probably around 14 degrees - balmy for the some of the 'Cebèrians' who take a dip on New Year's day. I'll try again same time next month.



After sitting on the beach for a while I took a walk into the hills above the town. The Mimosa trees were in full flower and butterfly lavender scented the air.

                                     





Photograph taken on the way down to the bakery to buy a Baguette 'Payse', (particularly chewy and delicious bread of Cerbère)





 

A different route to the border

Within half an hour you can be up in the wild landscape behind Cerbère (depending on your walking speed). Today we decided to walk over the border into Spain and find the fresh water lake or barrage that supplies Portbou.
It was a beautiful walk, a little windy as the Tramontane was blowing, but not enough to be a danger, (and it kept us cool).
The Cerbère valley is quite different to that of Portbou, the former being wider and sunnier with vines, olive, wild lavender etc; the latter, more pine trees and less imprint of man.
Before we arrived at the top, I was musing on how people would have decided where the border between the two countries should be; when you look at the terrain on each side and the vegetation difference, it suddenly appears quite obvious how the decision was arrived at.
No animals noted apart from bees, but still a fair amount of wild flowers blooming despite the heat and dryness, and amazingly several blackberry bushes with ripe fruit - I assume their roots must be well down into some underground source.
I saw a weather warning on France Meteo before setting out on the risk of forest fires in the South of France. Standing amongst brittle, bone-dry vegetation I could imagine the speed at which a fire would take hold.
I walked back to Cerbère, and the more intrepid Mark, into PortBou. Next time I will walk to Banyuls along the crest of the hills - not on a windy day . . .

                                          

View back to Cerbère, about half way along to the border point




The barrage above Portbou at its low summer level.

First swims

Actually, the second - I was down a few weeks ago and did swim but it was a bit, arrrggg!

Now (late June) the sea is around 23 degrees in the shallows and perfect for swimming.



                       The town with its 'for the summer' installed floating boat pontoons


                         

                         Wonderfully clear water at the poetically named 'bay of no troubles'

                                       

                           Mark enjoying a very early morning swim in the town's bay

A walk over the 'hill' between Cerbère and Port-Bou

I have done this walk/minor climb once with my son, in the winter when we got stranded in Port-Bou (next town - in Spain). Some hardened hikers showed us the way, and magnificent it was, although somewhat cold.
Yesterday, Mark and I did the walk both ways, with a cake and tea stop in between.
To pick up the trail, you walk up the dry river bed/road at the back of Cerbère and follow it all the way, not taking the route through the big tunnel on the right. Keep walking and you pass through a small tunnel and into a curious area at the back of the railway sidings full of old chicken runs and debris . . . not the most picturesque spot but take the small path to your left, marked with a fellow line and walk/clamber up until you reach the white border-point (disused) building.
The route in spring is beautiful; full of wild flowers, gorse and lavender, and if, like me, you have to stop every few minutes due the gradient, the views of the sea, town and station are wonderful.
Cross over the main road (with care as some drivers take the bends a little recklessly) up onto the top of the hill (small mountain?) feel the wind thrashing you if it's a Tramontane day, and walk down across the border into Spain.
This hillside would have once been equally flower and cactus-filled but due to a severe forest fire a few years back most of the ground is just grass covered, although the trees and bushes are beginning to make a come-back, slowly.
If you have remembered a back pack, you can fill it with pots of local honey, olive oil, nougat, etc, enjoy some Tapas/cake/cervezas, have a wander about and either catch the train back across the border or walk.
If you have a bit more time, it is well worth visiting the Walter Benjamin memorial and grave situated in the cemetery above the town.
The walk, without counting the cake stop etc, is about an hour and a half - two hours, depending on your speed/leg length . . .



the Cerbère side



Cerbère station and sidings

                         

                                                                



         



                 Port-Bou side with the Cap de Creus land mass in the distance




        walk back with shopping bag as we forgot the rucksack

                                      

                                       Port-bou honey, olive oil and Turon (nougat)

Street art

There's lots of this in Cerbère. Over the years various contemporary art events have left traces all over the town: some defiantly visible like the oblong of violet paint with the word 'Miracle' written in gold paint that decorates the beach wall; or the huge gold letters saying 'You see what it is I want to say' (in French) also gracing that same wall.

A meander down the back streets reveals other works in unexpected places - a beautifully painted woman (picture of, not woman) holding giant antlers at the top of someones garden steps, or this fabulous orange fish near the entrance to one of the town's tunnels.

Dotted about are smaller paintings - a series of pigeons with moralistic phrases accompanying them, skulls, and all the real graffiti that graces walls, doors, steps and tunnels.

One of the passenger walkways tunnels has itself become a work of art by Jean Truel spanning many years.

I wonder if the likes of Picasso and other artists made it as far as Cerbère - they spent time in Collioure, a few kilometres up the coast. I can't imagine they wouldn't have stopped off, intrigued by the Belvedere Hotel perhaps (see last post). On their way to see Dali in Cadaqués perhaps? Someone in the town must know . . . another little project.

Landmark

We discovered Cerbère after failing to find a hotel in Cadaqués (mad season of August). A friend had suggested taking a look around Cerbère instead - 'I think you might like it . . .' she had said. And we did - very much.

Pictured - the Belvedere de Rayon Verte, a hotel built in the 1920s to serve the large numbers of fairly wealthy travellers voyaging from Frence to spain and vice versa (tennis courts on the roof, cinema on the first floor) when the train lines were installed, along with the extraordinary arched railway bankings that curve through the town - apparently designed and made by the 'Eiffel' company

We stayed here in a decrepit 'suite' with a view of the sea to one side of our balcony and the tracks to the other, and were serenaded by the 'singing railings' (four notes that strike up with certain wind directions) and the rumble and squeak of the trains. I believe the guest rooms have been done up in recent years, but luckily nothing done to alter the rather decaying but beautiful dining room, cinema etc.

Looking from high up on the Spanish-French border, the hotel is an extraordinary landmark; almost snaking itself along the train tracks in a long curve. If time travel were possible I would love to be transported back to the time when the building had just been opened in all its elaborate concrete-ness (one of the first concrete habitations in France).

Home to many art projects and other events, the Belvedere opens its doors to the public for the excellent annual film festival - 1st to the 3rd October. Link below.

http://www.rencontrescerbere.org