The one-hour bus ride from Olot to Girona was a tedious journey along dual-carriage motorways or straight-cut regional roads. As the bus plied east through the A26 to Besalu, the verdant mountainous landscape of the Garrotxa Natural Park soon gave way to gently sloping lowlands,…Read More

The one-hour bus ride from Olot to Girona was a tedious journey along dual-carriage motorways or straight-cut regional roads. As the bus plied east through the A26 to Besalu, the verdant mountainous landscape of the Garrotxa Natural Park soon gave way to gently sloping lowlands, lush with vegetation and crop fields at first but surprisingly barren as the road took a sharp turn south to Banyoles. From here to Girona, the motorway sloped down gently towards industrial areas and commercial suburbs before it linked to the city’s main thoroughfares.

Girona’s bus and train stations are near each other on Placa d’Espanya, southeast of the city centre. Riu Onyar, a trickling tributary of Riu Ter, divides the city roughly into two from north to south. The area between the train station and the river is almost devoid of attractions but it is nonetheless a pretty welcoming spot containing more than an adequate share of shops, restaurants and hotels. East of the Onyar and linked to the west side by a number of sketchy red-painted footbridges and several other wider road bridges, a warren of steep narrow atmospheric streets converge on the medieval Old Town centre, a veritable open-air museum of Romanesque constructions and antique furnishings.

I had been to Girona quite a few times before, mostly on a stopover for a Ryanair flight to another destination, Girona – Costa Brava airport being an excellent Ryanair base to reach a good number of cities in Europe. This time I intended to prolong my stay, wishing for more leisurely sightseeing, more hours of sidetracking and discovery. So, I walked north for a few minutes on Carrer de Barcelona, Girona’s main thoroughfare, a road infested with traffic day and night. The first side street west of the main road, Carrer de Sant Antoni is a direct shortcut to the river. Humming with activity, it is a place full to capacity with shops of all sorts. If La Rambla represents Barcelona’s most vibrant shopping and entertainment scene, then Carrer de Sant Antoni is Girona’s top arena for trade and business.

Between the extreme edge of Carrer de Sant Antoni and the west bank of the river, a vast stone-tiled piazza bordered by a leafy enclave becomes the venue of a daily colourful fruit-and-vegetable market, a good place to stock on a fresh supply every morning. Behind the open-air stalls, the Mercat del Lleo Aula Gastronomica is a closed market hall that provides the best assortment of fare in the city. Odourless fish displays and meat stalls rub shoulders with exquisite cheese counters and special-ingredients shops. Food is fresh and tempting, quality is first-class.

The section of the river in front of the market square becomes a deep concrete gutter in summer, completely dry, barren and inanimate. But further north than Pont de Pedra, the river widens, its concrete base disappears under a shallow quantity of water and its sloping side walls turn into a verdant lawn of grassy bushes. Further north as it becomes wider and deeper and as its flowing currents speed up, the river turns into a lively watercourse, an elongated pond where shoals of carp abound and river creatures thrive within its reedy bordering edges.

If one follows the river north on Passeig General Mendoza, one will soon reach Placa Catalunya, a modern square that sits right on a roofed section of the river and provides access from the west side to the east side of the city.

Any street you take from here leads to the Old Town quarter. Walking aimlessly at leisure along this section of the city is an encounter with shops of all sorts, most being small traditional establishments that deal in handicrafts, (see the maker of wood-and-wicker articles on Placa de l’Oli) religious artworks of high quality (see the angel’s shop on Carrer Ballesteries) or authentic antiques and fine arts (see the antiquarian on the edge of Carrer de Peixetories Velles). Thrown here and there between shops are restaurants and cafeterias, some dating back to time immemorial, others refurbished with style and panache.

Rambla de Llibertat, the street parallel to the river’s east bank and the city’s most tourist-frequented place is lined with first-class restaurants, ice-cream parlours and fast-food outlets. It has become one vast dining area, pleasant, delightful and entertaining. In winter, the arched passageway is filled in to capacity with scores of side-by-side tables; in summer, several additional tables are put on the street, making it impossible to find out to which restaurant a particular table belongs. Shouldn’t they use colour-coded tables or at least specific table covers as an indication?

After I chose my dinner out of the day menu that was conveniently posted on an easel-supported board on the street, I sat at an empty table and waited patiently for my turn. The menu handed down by the waiter in attendance was unlike the posted menu.
"Can I have a menu similar to the one on the board?" I enquired courteously, pointing towards the board on the street.
"Oh, sir, excuse me, but that’s not our menu. That belongs to the restaurant further down".
I had no other option but to stand up and walk away.

Rambla de Llibertat and its narrower continuation Carrer de Argenteria take a sharp turn east before they head to the oldest and most characterful section of the Old Town quarter. Fully pedestrianized and dominated by its principal ascending walkway Carrer de la Forca, it is known as El Call, a labyrinth of narrow cobbled streets, stepped winding alleyways and atmospheric lanes with ghostly features and an out-of-the-world appearance. Home to Catalonia’s medieval Jewish community, El Call is a well-preserved architectural heritage of centuries-old Jewish homes, shops and buildings where medieval Jews worked and lived as a semi-isolated society. To come face to face with the actual details of five centuries of Jewish history in the city, one has only to visit the Museu d’Historia dels Jueus, conveniently located half-way on Carrer de la Forca. The building where it is housed is itself an extreme example of a medieval Jewish home, probably owned in the past by a rich Jewish merchant.

Carrer de la Forca reaches its physical peak and its climax of attraction on Placa de la Catedral, a small graceful square that lacks a cathedral. Girona’s grand Cathedral deserves a more elevated position, a strategic standpoint from where its architectural eloquence could be enjoyed from all corners of the city. There it is however, rightfully above Placa de la Catedral! From the square, ninety imposing steps climb up to the Cathedral’s surging baroque façade. I counted the steps on my way up (yes, ninety) and after exploring its white hard-stone façade embellished as it is with larger-than-life statues and ornamental stonework, I made my way in to find a gargantuan interior, a huge single nave surrounded with twelve chapels, each being a small museum of art in its own right. I couldn’t inspect all the altarpieces and the artefacts within, since the Cathedral is somewhat gloomy and dark, the light penetrating through the windows not being enough to illuminate such a colossal space.

The adjoining Cathedral’s treasury is a veritable treasure-trove of rare sacred artworks, exhibiting more than a fair share of hand-sculpted wood statues, gold-plated ornamental work, hand-painted manuscripts, church vestments and artistic tapestries. Worthy of mention for its historical value and uniqueness is the Romanesque Tapestry of the Creation. The twelfth-century Romanesque cloister that adjoins the treasury is a masterpiece of medieval Catalan architecture, comprising rows of arches resting on double colonnaded supports, their capitals embellished with fine carvings.

On the north edge of Placa de la Catedral, a medieval covered gateway that splits the city’s former bastions to allow access to the centre runs downhill to two places of attraction. On the west side, one finds the Esglesia de Sant Feliu, Girona’s second church, architecturally rich containing a blend of thirteenth-century Romanesque and fifteenth-century Gothic features. Its bell tower with unique stone decorative projections is one of the city’s landmarks. On the east side, a short stroll along a winding passageway leads to Girona’s Romanesque Arab Bathhouse. Restored meticulously, it is a large stone structure complete with all the facilities formerly found in Muslim and Roman bathhouses.

In the neighbourhood of the Arab Baths, several gravelled passageways and stepped walkways climb uphill amidst a leafy area of landscaped woodland. If you keep on your tiresome ascent to the top, you will reach one of the towers of the Muralla, a look-out point formerly used to watch over the city. A narrow walkway over the old city walls allows for a half-hour outing along exceptionally good spots (more look-out towers on the way) from where the houses and streets of Girona turn into a veritable montage of colours and stunning picturesque beauty.

A stone’s throw from the Cathedral’s entrance, Girona’s Art Museum contains an outstanding exposition of marvellous church paintings and sculptures. Entrance is through the arched doorway on Pujada de la Catedral.



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The train from Latour de Carol to Barcelona tracks its way through verdant rugged landscape as it cuts diagonally across the Montgrony mountain range. I boarded the train at Puigcerda, the next station after Latour de Carol. Almost completely deserted with only a handful of…Read More

The train from Latour de Carol to Barcelona tracks its way through verdant rugged landscape as it cuts diagonally across the Montgrony mountain range. I boarded the train at Puigcerda, the next station after Latour de Carol. Almost completely deserted with only a handful of people on board, the train meandered along fertile valley corridors, stopping en route at quite a few minor stations, some consisting of nothing more than a small sheltered platform and a ticket booth. At one point along the route, the outstanding peaks of La Molina alpine ski resort, rising abruptly out of the valley floor, overshadowed the train tracks as the sheer majestic height of the mountains shuttered off the propagation of natural light.

Half-way along the route, the train stopped at Toses, a palpable rural village set at the foot of a one-thousand-metres high ‘collada’, a stunning mountain spot with shady footpaths ideal for amateur hiking and biking. At Toses station, the train suddenly and unexpectedly turned into a noisy school bus when a countless number of school children accompanied by their teachers invaded the carriages.

Two young girls sitting on the seat facing me were actively absorbed, sending messages on their mobile. I waited patiently until our eyes met and then I interrupted them inquisitively.
"Hola, por Barcelona?"
"No, Ripoll" one girl answered with the air of an expert.
"Yo no entiendo Catalan. Hablas ingles?"
"A little. We learn English at school" they answered back together, wishing to flash out their limited knowledge of English to any stranger who comes their way.
"Why are you going to Ripoll?" I enquired curiously.
"In Ripoll, we learn history. We come here often" the expert girl answered promptly.
"But why in Ripoll?" I asked again.
"Ripoll has a history museum, a big… esglesia and an old monestir" the expert girl answered with a giggle, unsure whether her English was comprehensible.
"And history exhibitions" the other girl added immediately.
I thanked them for the information and pledged that I would sightsee Ripoll today before proceeding on my trip to Girona.

The train soon reached the Ribes valley, an authentic cradle of virgin land, shimmering streams and gently undulating countryside. The sloping valley walls, erupt with profusions of blooming flowers that alternated with leafy patches of woodland or swathes of spiky tangled bushes, displayed a melange of natural hues, so enthralling that I wished the view could last for ever.

The train stopped for a few minutes at Ribes de Freser station from where I could see at a distance the remains of a ruined castle, its half-collapsed tower standing as evidence to the region’s past Iberian civilization. The Church of Santa Maria rising out of a typical central piazza in the village was partly hidden by thick overgrowth. A narrow-gauge train, a veritable remnant of a bygone age, was ready to start its northbound trip to the Nuria valley, offering on its way up impressive views of the mountains as these become higher and steeper on getting closer to the border with France.

The train took a sharp turn south before it proceeded through mountainous terrain, staggered here and there with patches of cultivated land, corn fields and fruit orchards. The main thoroughfare between Ribes de Freser and Ripoll runs close to the train tracks for most of the way, making it possible to view through the train’s window a number of little countryside hamlets comprising nothing more than a score of farmhouses where a farming community conveniently dwells. The Romanesque stone bridge, Pont d’en Cabreta, popular with scholars of history, was likewise within sight.

As the train reached Ripoll, the school children were the first to depart, stepping out so hastily that I had no time to bid them goodbye. Once out of the station, I found myself on the city’s main thoroughfare, Carrer del Progres. Heading northeast towards the medieval city centre, this busy road is a haven of activity, lined as it is with commercial and trading outlets of all sorts. Alongside the usual food stores, all kinds of traditional shops offer everything, from croissants and sweet confections to herbal concoctions made in convents, from nuts and nutted pastry to chocolate truffles filled in with a choice of flavoured liquorice.

I soon reached the graceful iron footbridge that stretches out over Riu Freser. A sharp turn left on Carrer Pont d’Olot placed me at once in the heart of the Old Town quarter. Wandering aimlessly without a city map, I wended my way through a number of quaint winding passageways, all filled in to capacity with centuries-old timber-framed shop entrances. At a glance, I observed the shop window displays: handmade embroidered bed linen and tablecloths, colourful ceramic vases and glazed pottery, silver-filigreed jewellery and eye-catching knickknacks and souvenirs made by local craftsmen.

Hidden somewhere in the midst of this old-world ambience, a small square was the venue of a popular fruit-and-vegetable market. A colourful banner tied across the square to a pair of electricity poles decoded the noisy activity: ‘Mercato de Santa Maria de Ripoll’. Wasn’t this manifestly obvious? Anyway, the market was nonetheless a grand open-air display of colours. Everything was fresh and tempting, so tempting it was impossible not to participate in the experience. So, I approached one of the market stalls and after being handed over a plastic bag, I picked my share of cherries from the display. In my country, fruit and greens are untouchables; in this part of Spain, you’ll never get your bag filled unless you use your hands to sort out your requirements.

Out of the market square, I nibbled cherries as I made my way along Carrer dels Hortolans, a long winding alleyway that opens onto Carrer dels Pirineus. A short stroll brought me right on Placa de Santa Maria, Ripoll’s largest and most popular square. Being the throbbing heart of Ripoll, it is the spot where all the historical attractions are located.

After asking for directions, I made my way straight to the tourist office, located on the ground floor of an old building on Placa del Abat Oliba and barely a stone’s throw from the basilica. The huge arched hallway where the friendly and kindly officers in attendance painstakingly exercise their multi-lingual skills with visitors is a meticulously restored place with lots of exposed stones and a cloister-like appearance.
"I am looking for a hotel where I can spend the night. Can you help me, please?"
An English-speaking lady who was absorbingly engaged with her computer stood up in a jiffy, gave me a warm welcome and handed over a dozen or so brochures of the region. On a street map of the city, she marked the location of three hotels, conveniently tracing out the shortest route to each.
"These are the three best hotels in the centre. There are cheaper ones outside the centre but they are not easy to reach unless you have your own wheels. ‘Ca La Paula’ is just a stone’s throw from here on the opposite edge of the square. It is a clean place with refurbished rooms and new furniture. Give it a try".

I thanked her for the assistance and walked across the square to the recommended hotel. It was a real gem, sparkingly clean and right in the centre of the city’s active scene. Having deposited my backpack, I hastened my way to the ticket office from where I bought a combined entry ticket for the basilica and the monastery.

Protected with black-tinted sheets of glass, an artistically-great stone portal allows entry to the Romanesque Basilica of Santa Maria. It is entirely invisible to outsiders and without an entry ticket you cannot get the least inkling of its refined artistic beauty. Dating back to the twelfth century, it is an extreme example of pure Romanesque art. Heavily sculpted with a combination of several Biblical and rural scenes, it is a great exposition of old Catalan art and craftsmanship. The details of what you see are conveniently displayed on a poster near the entrance, but… alas, no English translation.

On entering the basilica, I was shocked to find an austere gloomy place of huge proportions devoid of ornamentation. But on climbing down a few steps to the Benedictine cloister, the aspect of austerity changed to one of awe as I was faced with an extraordinary place lined with colonnaded stone arches, embellished with richly sculpted capitals. The pantheon beneath the cloister is a place of great historical importance, containing a fair share of tombs where nobles of the Catalan dynasty are interred.

A short stroll from the monastery, Ripoll’s Ethnography Museum has recently opened its doors after years of renovation. Presenting a wide range of items related to the customs and traditions of this mountainous region, it is a modern place having new exhibition spaces and an orderly labelled display of exhibits one can follow with ease.
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La Seu d’Urgell, the small valley town where I spent three days in utter poetic peacefulness, seemed to me so remote from the rest of Spain that I thought it would be appropriate to enquire about the best way to depart. Without any planned itinerary, I was ready to accept any suitable suggestion that would give me another opportunity to stay close to the mountains where I could enjoy in seclusion whatever nature offered.

So, I made my way to La Seu’s tourist office, located conveniently inside a recently refurbished ground floor building in the arcaded passageway a stone’s throw west of the Cathedral on Carrer Major. The warm welcome given by the officer in attendance was simply the best I’ve ever received in any tourist office anywhere around the globe.
"Do you speak English?" I enquired.
"A little, but I can communicate with ease if you dare speak slowly and clearly" he responded in a manner so polite that he seemed to be versed extremely well in the skill of social interaction.
"You speak perfect English" I said without hesitation, "Have you ever lived in an English-speaking country?"
"Never, but…"
"Then you studied at Oxford or London, perhaps" I interrupted with sarcasm.
But Oxford and London were beyond his comprehension, not knowing that Oxford and London are two universities of prestige and stature. So, while I explained the significance of my statement, I stood admiring with attention his unfailing effort to use grammatically correct English, a rare occurrence in Spain.

This short introductory conversation was enough to establish a friendship that has already lasted two months. Ramon Gasch by name, he was surprisingly helpful and knowledgeable, particularly with regards to information about transport in the Cerdanya region.
"Take one of the three daily buses to Puigcerda. The earliest bus leaves at 9:00am from the bus station on Carrer del Bisbe Benlloch and reaches Puigcerda one hour later".

After he handed down a large-scale detailed map of Cerdanya and traced on it the route the bus was intended to follow, he went on to elaborate on the natural beauty of the mountain landscape that enwraps Puigcerda.
"A couple of days in Puigcerda may or may not be enough. It all depends on how many hours of countryside walking you intend to spend. But make sure to explore the hillside groves that surround the city, make sure to trek along the marked pathways that lead into winding valleys and half-drowned reedy marshlands, fertile with vegetation. Cross over to nearby mountain hamlets where city life has been kept away and time has stood still."

"What’s next after Puigcerda?" I asked.
Ramon took all the time in the world to explain that frequent trains from Puigcerda run to Ripoll, another small valley town wrapped in mountain landscape and surrounded by a handful of picturesque mountain hamlets that deserve more than a brief visit. A daily bus departs from Ripoll to Girona at 2:00pm, passing en route through Olot, a small town folded in volcanic mountain landscape that is almost within touch of the city centre.

The following morning, after bidding Ramon goodbye, I took the bus to Puigcerda. The route was a one-hour trip along verdant country roads that snaked through tight bends and passed through a handful of quaint traditional villages, each consisting of nothing more than a few minor built-up streets radiating out of a prominent church square. The bus terminated its trip on a spread of ground in front of Puigcerda train station. One side of this huge empty space is dominated by three adjacent budget hotels and quite a few bars, ideal for a quick bite or a light snack.

On the extreme edge of this park-like zone, a broad passageway leads to the lower station of a free public funicular (opening times: 6:00 to 24:00) that whisks passengers to a mid-level station from where a semi-circular glass elevator continues its vertical ascent to the uppermost terminal platform.

Once the climax of elevation was reached, I stood still like a flagpole on the observation terrace looking with awe at what stood in front of me. The view of the mountains, their peaks still capped in snow, their lower levels dressed in dappled coats of green, was a portrait-pretty panorama I didn’t want to leave behind. The lower town section cut across by the train tracks and the symmetrical brickwork of the station appeared finer and brighter from this excellent overhang.

A few steps brought me right on the Town Hall square, a graceful area where local people meet, exchange views and spend time in each other’s company. From here, I walked along Carrer Alfons I, a narrow atmospheric walkway lined on both sides with side-by-side specialized shops. Half-way on Carrer Alfons I, a byway gives access to a massive piazza, a green central square sidelined with avenues on each side. On one edge stands the thirteenth-century Church of St Dominic, a place of worship that was almost entirely rebuilt from scratch two centuries later. The façade that looks over the piazza retains some original features that are worthy of inspection. Also noteworthy are the interior Gothic murals that date back to the fourteenth century and the row of stained-glass windows that adorn the transept.

I resumed my walk aimlessly along the warren of uphill streets within the Old Town quarter, stopping here and there to peep inside a local delicatessen (try Puigcerda’s torrone – a nougat concoction of pistachio nuts, sesame seeds and ultra-sweet confections) or a buy-and-sell antiques galleria (look at the admirable collections of bronze statues and ornamental ceramic vases). I finally reached an uncluttered space that seemed to be the most popular spot in town. Consisting of two adjoining irregular squares sitting on the topmost spot in the city, it is a place busy with activity, sidelined as it is with restaurants, bars and food stores. With several wooden seats scattered around, it is entirely pedestrianized and allows for an easy hour’s rest in an ambience of fresh air and lingering passers-by.

On one edge of Placa de Santa Maria, the remaining bell tower of the former Church of Santa Maria is a predominant attraction. Well-preserved, its four-faced clock still striking the hour, it stands as a symbol of the majestic opulence of the former church that was the pride of the inhabitants of Puigcerda. Devastated during the Spanish civil war, it was considered as a Gothic masterpiece, an extreme example of Gothic architecture in the region.

Any northbound street leads to Puigcerda’s park-like grassland, a sanctuary of thick foliage, clear water and wildlife. The medium-sized artificial lake, known as the ‘estany’, created in the fourteenth century for irrigation purposes seems as natural as the old weeping willows that encircle its border. Several young residents were casting out for trout, going into ecstasy whenever a big one was hooked in. Along the park’s pathways, billboards with information and pictures of the creatures that hang out amidst the greenery were set up in convenient locations to guide visitors in their attempt to spot on the booty. On one edge of the park, a sheltered look-out point allows for great views of the mountain landscape, the spectacular views stretching out further away than the Spanish-French border.

Near the park’s enclosing hedgerows, a number of mansion-like villas were constructed in the twentieth century by wealthy Catalans in a bid to stay away from urban life. Their landscaped gardens and Art Nouveau architecture are still spectacular today, although the three most fashionable chalets are now converted into luxury five-star hotels.

My last day in Puigcerda took me on a peripheral trip around the city’s hillside groves. With a detailed map of the area in hand, I made my way northwest along Rondo del Torreo, a leafy boulevard on the edge of Placa de l’Estacio. A ten-minute walk brought me near a side track that delved deep down into a lush valley, a fiord-like abyss cut through steep mountain edges. Following the marked trails, I walked amidst fertile terrain, skipping here and there streams of water splashing out of the mountain walls. For one hour or so, I walked along sloping winding pathways that ran around reedy wetlands, forested patches or rugged rock surfaces. A high-gradient uphill track, hard to climb up and definitely not for the inexperienced, gave access to a country road from where I reached Latour de Carol train station in a few minutes.

A trip on the ‘train jaune’ from Latour de Carol to Bourg-Madame is a short excursion along a high-gradient mountain slope. The views from the train window are great; the experience although short-lasting is unforgettable. The walk from Bourg-Madame station back to Puigcerda is a one-mile feat of utter exertion since the road climbs uphill and downhill several times before one crosses the border back into Spain and reaches Baixada de Bourg-Madame. Carrer des Escoles Pies climbs up from here to the city centre.


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Hourly buses depart from Andorra La Vella for Spain from the bus stop on Placa de Guillemo. Not the easiest spot to find unless you ask for directions, it is located a stone’s throw east of Hotel Pyrenees. The bus plies southwest through Andorra La…Read More

Hourly buses depart from Andorra La Vella for Spain from the bus stop on Placa de Guillemo. Not the easiest spot to find unless you ask for directions, it is located a stone’s throw east of Hotel Pyrenees. The bus plies southwest through Andorra La Vella’s main thoroughfare before it reaches the suburb of Santa Coloma. From here, it continues through mountainous terrain to Santa Julia de Loria, a small hamlet on the banks of Riu Gran Valira. Following the downstream course of the river, the bus penetrates a succession of underpass tunnels before it reaches the border and makes its way out of Andorra into Spain.

The remaining 8 miles of the trip is a veritable portrait of exceptional scenery. Dramatic peaks, rugged rock promontories and streams half-drowned in running water alternate with shimmering lakes, cultivated land and fruit orchards. The bus ran through a handful of quiet picturesque hamlets tucked away in a rural setting within remote deep valleys before it reached its final destination and the first town of any significance after leaving Andorra La Vella.

This pleasant place, small with regards to geographical size and population but great on location is none other than La Seu d’Urgell, a valley town wrapped in hillside groves and obscured from sight by surrounding foothills. With a small bus station but an excellent bus service, it is Spain’s sole gateway to Andorra and provides the shortest road access from anywhere to Andorra La Vella.

La Seu d’Urgell is a two-level city. The upper level sitting on the edge of a sloping hillside grove is a combination of residential and historic quarters where 12 thousand inhabitants live in a quasi-rural setting, almost cut off from the rest of the world. Bisected from north to south by Avinguda de Pau Claris and its continuation Carrer de Sant Ot, it is an area characterized by commercial activity and business outlets. It must be said that three of the best hotels in the city exercise their activity along Avinguda de Pau Claris or Carrer de Sant Ot where they have extended their restaurants and cafeterias with additional elbow-room on the sidewalks, setting up huge parasols and spreading out extra dining tables.

West of Avinguda de Pau Claris, nothing is of interest to visitors, the area being a hotchpotch of three or four-storey apartment blocks. But walk east towards the Old Town quarter and you will come across a labyrinth of narrow medieval streets, a jumble of arched passageways and atmospheric alleyways, all filled in to capacity with small specialized shops and quaint attractions that are a delight to explore.

I happened to reach the city on a Saturday when the Old Town streets, squares and corners become the venue of a huge open-air colourful market. The side-by-side market stalls occupied all imaginable places, filling in most of the medieval quarter, spreading out as far as Placa dels Oms. With such a small local population, how can a voluminous market flourish and thrive so well, particularly when one knows that it is held twice a week with the same passion and eagerness?

I asked this question to quite a few shoppers who seemed to be keener to strike a bargain or to choose good-quality products than to give me the information I requested. But at last, I met two English-speaking ladies who were packing heaps of fruit they bought from one particular street vendor.
"Market days in La Seu are social events more than anything else. Local people meet here, buy their vital requirements, exchange views about the political situation and spend a couple of hours in each other’s company".
"But…what happens to the crops that remain unsold?" I interrupted.
"Nothing remains. Prices of greens and fruit are discounted as time goes on. The quality may come down as well but you’ll take home more, much more for less".
"Considering the hordes that swarm the market streets in thousands, it seems that all residents of La Seu are here" I predicted.
"Not all but almost. You have to keep in mind that La Seu is set amidst the mountains and several people from nearby remote hamlets and mountain villages pour in on market days. Unless they grow their own produce, they have nowhere else to buy. In addition, a good number of French tourists who use La Seu as a stepping-stone to the mountains join the locals in this shopping spree".

The outside market held every Wednesday and Saturday in La Seu is not restricted solely to fruit and vegetables. Most side streets in the neighbourhood of the Cathedral are sidelined with more stalls that deal in poor-quality shoes, made-in-china clothes and gaudy plastic trinkets of questionable quality but all at knockdown prices.

When the market closes down and the leftovers are removed, the Old Town becomes an enchanting and mysterious place, a maze of dream-like sleepy narrow walkways perfect for exploration. Without a city map, I made my way from one alleyway to another, not knowing what to find behind the corner, not aware of what the next step uncovers. The bare debased architecture of the buildings, some deserted for lack of amenities, others still lived in but likewise in a state of neglect, reveals a century of downright poverty, years of meagre habitation.

Standing with pride, as if to challenge the austere architectural style of the residential Old Town houses, the mighty Cathedral of Santa Maria on the southern edge of Placa dels Oms is a huge impressive edifice that incorporates a variety of architectural remodellings. The original Romanesque style dominates the exterior structure with small windows and deep recessed openings resting on double colonnaded supports. The architectural beauty of the arcaded upper level turns the Cathedral into a monumental stone heritage of uniqueness and stature.

The gargantuan interior is sparsely decorated, dark and gloomy, the small windows being simply not enough to illuminate this colossal and lofty space. The redeeming factor is the adjoining church museum that houses within its cloistered walls exclusive hand-painted murals, a number of gilded wooden statues, ornately carved altarpieces and a great deal of ecclesiastical ornamental work in gold and silver. The focus of attraction is the Chapel of Sant Miguel, one of the longest-standing buildings in La Seu.

A secluded look-out point near the Cathedral looks out over the mountains but the view is mostly obscured by huge trees that encircle the protective fence.

At least once, possibly more than once, most residents of La Seu have probably tucked into traditional local fare at Cal Pacho, an old hole-in-the-wall with a wonderful location on the extreme edge of the Old Town. The superb view from the front parapet over the city’s lower-level parkland is the restaurant’s additional asset. Ask for directions if you can’t locate the spot; everybody in La Seu knows.

Within earshot of Cal Pacho, a free public elevator (opening hours: 7:00 to 23:00) whisks you down to the city’s most popular chill-out zone. Known as the Parc del Segre, it is an extensive forested area that drains its surplus catchment water into a rock-faced valley. The running water drops through a series of floor levels, making the valley ideal for white-water rafting. A long Versailles-style canal guttered out along one side of the park allows for rowing, canoeing and kayaking.

If you are not in the mood for water sports, you can walk along the canal’s marvellous borderline, a broad gravelled passageway that allows for stunning views of the surrounding mountains. From here, the panoramic view of the Old Town buildings enhanced by the impressive architecture of the Cathedral hanging over the park is definitely worthy of mention.

The colourful semi-open-air restaurant right in front of the water canal is the place to come to quench your thirst or to rent any type of watercraft. Those who want to enjoy perfect peacefulness and full tranquillity in an atmosphere of seclusion should head for one of the canvas-draped tent-like gazebos that sideline the watercourse. Ideal for a picnic, each sheltering spot is equipped with a wooden table and seating for four.
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In 2009 we spent a few days in Barcelona, flying to Girona Costa Brava Airport; this airport is often billed as Girona-Barcelona even though it’s about 100 kilometres north of Barcelona. Landing at Girona, half the passengers head for the bus to Barcelona, the others…Read More

In 2009 we spent a few days in Barcelona, flying to Girona Costa Brava Airport; this airport is often billed as Girona-Barcelona even though it’s about 100 kilometres north of Barcelona. Landing at Girona, half the passengers head for the bus to Barcelona, the others pick up hire cars and head for the coast. In 2010 we decided to use the airport again but to see what Girona itself had to offer. It would be a short trip – arriving late afternoon Wednesday and flying home mid-afternoon on Friday.

The airport is situated ten kilometres from the city centre and a bus service connects the two. It terminates at the main bus and train station in the centre of the new town. The centre is quite compact and the main hotels are within a ten minute walk of the stations.

The history of Girona is a colourful one and it is reflected in the architecture of the stunning old town. In the twelfth century Girona had a particularly important Jewish community and the "call", or Jewish ghetto, is at the heart of the Old Town. The old city walls have been partially reconstructed and make an excellent walking tour. The attractive ramblas are a less hectic but no less appealing version of the one in Barcelona and the city has a miniature boqueria in the form of the Mercado Municipale. Throw in some elegant art nouveau buildings and you should be getting a picture of a micro-Barcelona; indeed, Girona is very like Barcelona but it’s not on the coast and it is a much more relaxing place to visit. In Barcelona I always feel I don’t have enough time to see what I want; Girona doesn’t come with that kind of pressure.

Our hotel's location and it’s proximity to the Old Town was particularly pleasing when it came to our first view of the colourful houses that overlook the Onyar River. It was a little cloudy when we came around the corner and took in this unexpected sight but the next day when the sun shone this colourful row of higgledy-piggledy teetering houses looked magnificent. Himself thought it looked like an Iberian version of the Byker Wall - a housing project in Newcastle-upon-Tyne; I thought it looked quite Venetian. Behind the houses, the Church of Saint Feliu and the stunning cathedral tempt you to cross one of the many footbridges (there are also a couple of road bridges) and enter the Old Town. One of the footbridges was built by the Eiffel Company (of Parisian tower fame).

We enjoyed a short stroll that evening but first we headed to the ramblas where the nightly passeggiata (Is there a Spanish word for this?) was in full swing. We took a seat at a pavement cafe, ordered a couple of beers and watched the world go by. This is the most expensive place to drink in Girona centre, however, and we soon moved on to back street places in the Old Town.

We didn’t have firm plans about what we wanted to see in Girona and decided just to wander and stop whenever something appealed enough. We started by heading for the beginning of the city walls walk but got distracted by the signs of the central market and made a detour. This mainly indoor market is very similar to Barcelona’s Boqueria in that it offers the very best fresh, local produce and is as much a tourist attraction as a shopping place.

At the start of the city walls walk stands the entrance to an underground shelter which was used during the Spanish Civil War. The walls, of course are much older. Some date from the time of Charlemagne in the ninth century while other parts are from the fifteenth century. Throughout history Girona has been under siege something like twenty-five times and during those many assaults on the city the walls took quite a battering. What you see now has been reconstructed from the small sections that escaped but you get an excellent idea of how the city would have been defended. One of the best things about the wall walk is that there are a series of view points at which you can get some terrific views of the city skyline and, as you move round, individual buildings. At the far end of the walk you can drop down into a shady park and from there down further to explore some of Girona’s most splendid buildings.

Our first stop was the cathedral. It was originally a Romanesque building dating from the eleventh century, but heavily altered and added to over the centuries. The Gothic nave was added in the fifteenth century and in the seventeenth century some Baroque additions were made including the imposing set of seventy-six steps on the approach to the entrance.

Instead we descended the steps and went to explore the Arab Baths which are nearby. Arab baths is something of a misnomer as these remains are actually a Romanesque building from the twelfth century and the moors were long gone by this time.

Not far away is the church of Sant Feliu (Saint Felix) which is notable for its abbreviated gothic spire (the upper part collapsed in the seventeenth century and was never restored). The church was built on the city of a former burial ground where the remains of Saint Felix are said to have been found.

I’m not much of a shopper unless it’s to do with speciality items that I’m really interested in so I was delighted to find an old fashioned grocery and wine store just behind the ramblas. This museum like establishment had two sections each selling similar items but seemingly separate enterprises. The tills were magnificent Victorian monsters and the wooden shelves that ran wall to wall, floor to ceiling groaned under the weight of speciality products from all over the world. In a dark corner on the bottom shelf we found a wonderful array of beer from all over the world and Himself pounced for a Namibian beer he’d never seen before. I asked whether I might take a photograph (this is one of my stock phrases in Spanish) but the assistant silently pointed to a sign on the door which indicated that this was prohibited.

Lunch was taken in bar that claimed to offer tapas, which it did – but with a difference. All the dishes that we ordered from the menu were prepared with a strongly Chinese/Thai flavour that, while unexpected, proved to be a successful novelty.

There are plenty of bars and some of them serve pinxtos, the Catalan version of tapas. Pinxtos are pieces of bread topped with different savoury toppings, a bit like a bruschetta but more exciting. The pinxtos is the name for the little stick that spears the topping to the bread. To reckon the bill, the barman tots up the number of sticks on your plate.

Round the corner we stopped for a drink at a wine shop that stays open in the evening serving local beer and good cheap wine to locals who stand outside in the street. There’s a party atmosphere and the place is buzzing; somehow I don’t think Brits could be trusted to drink like this.

There’s no shortage of places to dine in Girona and most places offer good value set meals. While this may sound restricting, the choices are extensive. In the evening you can expect to pay around €10 to €13 per head for starter, main and dessert in an averagely priced establishment.

Although our visit was short we were able to get quite a good feeling for Girona. It’s a friendly and attractive city which is often overlooked by Brits who pass through on their way to somewhere they consider more exciting. We packed quite a bit into our short stay and had we stayed longer we might have visited some of the city’s museums: art, culture and the history of the Jews in Girona are all covered (among other subjects). Lots of visitors come for the day from Barcelona or from the coast but I would suggest that you need to to stay at least one night to get a flavour of the eating and drinking scene which is important to the city.

That said, Girona is the sort of place that encourages unhurried wandering. There are lots of squares and shady porticos to sit and have a coffee or a beer, or hidden gardens that are cool and quiet where only the sound of a modest fountain breaks the silence. When the sun shines on Girona it looks quite stunning and the narrow lanes and crooked alleys make you want to explore more of this picturesque place.

I thoroughly recommend that if your local airport flies to Girona, you come here instead of Barcelona. It’s more than Barcelona in miniature but if you like Barcelona but find it too busy, Girona is a great alternative.
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Location: GirónA medium-sized almost suburb of Bucaramanga, Girón exemplifies colonial Colombia mixed in with more modern housing and commercial arrangements outside the colonial center. During weekends it is usually full of folks from larger Bucaramanga, and this is the typical town where your grandma lives…Legend…Read More

Location: Girón

A medium-sized almost suburb of Bucaramanga, Girón exemplifies colonial Colombia mixed in with more modern housing and commercial arrangements outside the colonial center. During weekends it is usually full of folks from larger Bucaramanga, and this is the typical town where your grandma lives…

Legend has it that Girón is a hot spot for those dearly departed that have stayed behind instead of reaching Heaven’s pearly gates. Its town square has a Minor Basilica where you can buy charms for praying and wishing as you put them in front of a symbol of the Church’s patron saint. So putting two and two together, you can surmise that the town has quite a little bit of history regarding that-which-is-supernatural. I didn’t see anything strange, but I am tight lipped about what I wished for in the Basilica. It might just be real and there’s no need spoil that! This is also where I had my first taste of chocolate from Girón in milk with cheese (Chocolate Santafereano, as those from Bogotá call it), my first Colombian tamal, and other yummy treats.

One side note: Weddings… caught two of them on the same day at La Iglesia de las Nieves (the Church of the Snows…), and I have no idea why they’d call it as such since at an altitude of less than 2000m, this part of Santander only gets rain on the coldest day. But anyway, the church was old, pretty, and in front of a dimly-lit plaza that reminded me of an old romantic movie (the ones guys never admit to watching). And apparently it’s a good place to get hitched.

After not catching any major ghost sightings, it was time to head out of Girón. The spookiest thing here wasn’t anything supernatural but the few streetlights that light up the mainly white walls in the old section of town.
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Spanish town Girona, located 100 km north of Barcelona and 70 kilometers from the border with France. Today, we delve deeper into the history, myths and legends of one of the most beautiful cities in Catalonia.There are several versions of the name of Girona. The…Read More

Spanish town Girona, located 100 km north of Barcelona and 70 kilometers from the border with France. Today, we delve deeper into the history, myths and legends of one of the most beautiful cities in Catalonia.

There are several versions of the name of Girona. The first - on behalf of the Gerund fortress built by Roman legionnaires to place the Iberian settlement. Location it was really very tasty - an elevated river Ter and Onyar, that the Romans and were not kept, building fortifications, protects the fundamental way to the Iberian Peninsula - Via Augusta.

The second version is more interesting and dramatic. Legend has it, though in these parts appeared a Giant Heron, which has three heads, the same amount of trunk and manners, far from gentlemanly. And, as so often happens, he decided to get the attention of the local beauty pyrenes. No flowers and candy, of course, but brute force. Pyrene decided that a giant can still nothing, but in triple the amount - it is already too, and being sensible girl, ran away from the hapless boyfriend. According to one version of it devoured beasts, and on the other Heron, furious, set fire to the forest, and the girl fell into a fiery trap. In general, the outcome of sad. But the well-known Hercules, combining business with pleasure, killed Girona and took all of his cows. And the place of death pyrenes sketched the mountain of huge stones, which subsequently became the Pyrenees. In honor of Girona, his sons later built a fortress and named in honor of his father, which subsequently gave the name of the city.

Since Girona is an important strategic point on the biggest shopping road, it is hundreds of times attacked and occupation by foreign invaders. As we already explained, first put his hand to the city the Romans built a fortress Gerunds. Then, with the fall of the Roman Empire in the III century Girona goes to the Visigoths, to capture the Arabs in the VIII century. Later created county of Girona, which is a graph Gifre first combines with the county of Barcelona. During the XV century, Girona is one of the major cities in Catalonia. Having survived until 1814 Napoleon's occupation, the city begins its demographic recovery, becoming in 1833 the capital of the province.

An interesting fact is that despite the numerous conquests of the Romans, Arabs, the Visigoths, the present glory and prosperity of Girona received by the Jews. First appeared in the Israeli town in the period of early Christianity. Their existence was quiet and peaceful until the appearance of the Visigoths. Yes, and their presence does not strongly disturb already established Jewish families, as long as the VI century to replace the pagan Roman Catholicism did not come. Then began the mass persecutions, from the removal of Jews from leading positions, ending the forced baptism and the prohibition to carry out any Jewish rites. Torment lasted a long time and eventually led only to ruin and decay.

However, in 890, in Girona attracts about 20 Jewish families. They were located in the safest place - around the Christian church. Among them were merchants, craftsmen, doctors, and very soon Girona has become a flourishing and economically developed a place. Jewish Quarter of the El Calderon is still one of the most interesting, mysterious and beautiful places of Girona.

But not only material wealth provided the Jews of the city. In 1194, was born Moses ben Nachman - a doctor and rabbi of Girona, who later became chief Rabbe throughout Catalonia. In addition to numerous scientific interests, Ramban fond of the teachings of Kabbalah. But it was not idle curiosity - he became the founder of Kabbalah School in Girona, wrote a commentary on the Torah, which are recognized by scientists the oldest Kabbalistic work of the Iberian Peninsula. In the XIII century Gerona becomes a European Centre for the Study of Talmud.
However, the good times coming to an end: the Jews began again persecuted, and they can put before a choice - baptism or death. Apogee occurred during the reign of Isabella of Castile, who was ardent Christian, and does not avoid the inquisition methods. August 2, 1492 Jews were required to leave the country, and in an interesting coincidence, the next day - August 3, Christopher Columbus went to his legendary expedition to find an alternative route to India. Jewish merchants from Girona were the direct sponsor of the trip. You probably should not say that the profits from their investments, they have not received ...

There is a legend that in Girona lived well, very nasty old woman. Walked around the cathedral, threw stones at him, spitting at passers-by, swearing in every way, singing obscene songs. Maybe a witch was, and maybe just have fun, but once the bell rang, and petrified granny. Joyous townspeople decided that it's better benefit the city brings in, and hung a stone statue in the manner of a gargoyle. And now, instead of blasphemy and curses of his mouth it follows rainwater. By the way, stands near a fountain dedicated to the story: he used to gleefully spitting water in the photo, symbolizing the old women nasty temper, but a few shattered pieces of photographic equipment forced the authorities to abandon the idea.

One of the most famous and unusual characters of Girona is kokolona - a hybrid of a crocodile, lizard and, for some reason, butterflies, some compare it with the hydra. It is said that on a moonlit night you can see the shadow kokoyony, sailing under the bridges of the river Onyar. Legend has it that sometime in the river was a convent dweller who, were by no means an unjust way of life. Only a young novice, strictly follow the monastic charter, so tired of his reproaches others, that those without thinking twice, put her in the basement, where she lived for many years. From moisture and heavy life, the girl turned into a water lizard, but her soul remained clean, so she had grown wings of a butterfly. Lizard Butterfly dug a tunnel and escaped into the river, and now very romantic city residents and tourists trying to see his shadow moving along the river on a summer night. Close