We waited in line for about 30 minutes for passport control before they turned us loose to start our vacation. After spending quite a bit of time on RENFE’s website before we embarked on this adventure, I realized that the footloose days of just jumping on a train were in my golden-tinged youth. Sadly, to get the best price on train tickets, you have to book in advance. So, in an abundance of caution, I booked the first train at a time that would give us plenty of time to clear passport control, figure out how to catch the bus from T1 to T2 and take the train from the airport to Barcelona Sants. Looking back, I probably erred a bit too much on the side of caution but I would rather not be rushing like a lunatic either.
The inter-terminal bus between T1 and T2 takes far longer than you would think. It was close to 10 minutes in between and you get on the freeway and everything. We got to T2 and then walked for a good 10 minutes to get to the local RENFE station. There was a helpful employee (who spoke better English than some of the people I went to high school with) who made sure that we purchased the right ticket to get us to Barcelona Sants station. I’m going to say right now that journey is not exactly scenic unless you are a hardcore connoisseur of gangland graffiti. At Barcelona Sants, we had about 1.5 hours until our Avant train so we went to McDonald’s to get something to eat. I know, I know, McDonald’s, really? But after a long flight, that’s what the hubby wanted. I’m not going to turn down those fries.
Finally, it was time to go through the x-ray and ticket scanner to head to the platform for our Avant train to Girona. I taught my hubby how to figure out where to stand on the platform to be close to our coach when the train arrived (and was never able to do that again for the rest of the trip because none of the other train platforms utilized that handy feature). We boarded and he spent the first 10 minutes of our 40 minute train ride marveling over the expansive leg room on the train. (I’m detecting a theme here.) The train was on an AVE train so it was fast, comfortable, and quiet – except for the woman who kept calling someone a “beacon of shining light” over and over.
Pulling into Girona station, we disembarked and found our way to the street, where we promptly got slightly lost. I mean, we walked in the correct direction but the streets that I was looking for to get us to our first lodging never appeared. Finally, I made him stop purposefully walking randomly and let me try to get my bearings. I know it probably looks like black magic, but I needed to just close my eyes and pull up the mental map and try to orient. Finally, I opened my eyes and said, this way and then this way. Despite the grumbling next to me, I quickly found the small pedestrian street where our lodgings were located. And of course, there was no one there to let us in…
Regrouping around the corner at a local restaurant with wifi, I was able to contact the woman who I had been conversing with back before we left for Spain. Thank goodness she has an iPhone because she was able to send me texts to let me know someone would be “right there”. Sure enough, while the hubby was finishing up the rest of the Iberico ham at the restaurant, I was able to get someone to let me in and give me keys to our apartment.
I did a brief walk-through with the cleaning lady and was disappointed that it was in the back of the building and felt really dark. But once we lugged our suitcases up to our flat and opened the heavy wooden shutters, I realized that we actually had the only terrace in the whole building, which more than made up for the dark rooms. The AC worked like a champ and once we got squared away, I decided that the best option for us was… to take a quick nap. So we napped, and woke up a few hours refreshed and ready to really explore.
Girona is about 40 miles from the French border and has a fascinating history, starting way back in Roman times. Founded in 79 BC, Girona has reconstructed the old city walls called the Passeig de la Muralla. We spent the remaining hours of daylight prowling the walls, climbing up the towers, taking a bunch of photos, and checking out the nave of the cathedral – which is supposed to be the widest Gothic style nave (I might be wrong on that but too lazy to fact-check…someone tell me if I’m wrong). I guess Game of Thrones filmed some exteriors here because we heard all about how the tourists get ticked off looking for the sea and finding out that the editors do some shadiness to make it look like Girona is on the water. As evening fell, we ended up grabbing a table on a patio of a local restaurant to sample tapas and glasses of rosado (rose to you French wine people). Everything was magical and perfect.
The next day Monday, was a bit rainy, which was fine because we slept in until 1pm! We got out and walked all over the “newer” part of the city, grabbing lunch at a little place that was clearly “locals only” before wandering again. We ended up back at the flat to read, nap, and then get ready for dinner. We found ourselves wandering the twisty streets of the old quarter before I balked and made us go into an Italian restaurant to get out of the rain. It turned out to be one of the more popular places for dinner and it had the old Roman street stones visible in glass windows in the floor.
Tuesday, I made my hubby walk to the Girona station again so we could take an hour-long Teisa bus ride to the small mountain town of Besalu. The claim to fame for this tiny hamlet is the medieval 11th century bridge leading into the narrow cobblestone streets. I loved the photogenic village and was gratified to see that my hubby was just as enthralled exploring it as I was. After a few hours, we stopped at one of the unremarkable cafes near the church for lunch before wandering back to the bus stop to head back to Girona. (I was sorely disappointed to miss the Museum of Miniatures but there was no way to wrangle him into voluntarily going into a museum with me.)
Besalu, a beautiful village in Spain (Catalunya) only a short bus ride from Girona
Once we got back to Girona, we wandered through the shopping district to window shop. After stopping back at our lodgings to freshen up, we walked through the old quarter again, looking for dinner. We finally settled on a cafe along the main pedestrian thoroughfare.
So, every night we were in Girona we heard the sounds of banging against pots. Fortunately, I had done some research before we left for the region so I could explain to my bewildered husband what was going on. As alluded to in my previous post, there was a referendum (declared illegal by the Spanish government in Madrid) by the Calatan government to determine whether to declare independence from Spain. Girona is one of the most outspoken cities advocating for independence from Spain. With that backstory, it makes much more sense why we heard cacerolada or the banging on pots and pans every night beginning at 10pm. I have to say that it was really interesting to experience it in Girona (as well as Tarragona and Barcelona later in the trip); but there was a vividness to the cacophony that was unmatched in Girona. It will forever be sealed in my memory walking across a bridge listening to the sounds of the protest echoing off of the buildings. It’s a peaceful, yet very vocal way to protest.
Wednesday morning arrived and it was time to pack up and head towards the train station. We had a long day of riding the rails ahead of us. But Girona was the perfect way to start our adventure. Definitely sad to see it receding into the distance. I don’t know if I’ll ever be back, but I certainly wouldn’t be sad if I did revisit it someday.
Girona. Spain (Catalunya)