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The strategic retreat (with supplies)

The good news: today’s drive is only 240 km.
The bad news: it means we are getting dangerously close to the French border and therefore to reality.

We leave fairly early after the classic hotel breakfast of champions: a quick coffee and a croissant inhaled somewhere between the lobby door and the car. The sky cannot quite make up its mind—some clouds, some blue—but there is no real rain and the motorway is so empty it feels as if Spain has temporarily closed for maintenance. It is Sunday after all.

By early afternoon we arrive in L’Escala, our final Spanish outpost before re-entering the land of higher prices and administrative complexity.

But before any sightseeing, cultural enrichment or even checking into the hotel, we execute the most important operation of the day.

The Wine Palace.

This is not a shop.
This is an institution.
A temple.
A place where wallets open spontaneously and bottles leap enthusiastically into shopping baskets.

The selection is enormous: wine, spirits, and all the local delicacies that make doctors sigh heavily. And the prices! Roughly half what we pay in France. Economically speaking, it would actually be irresponsible not to buy anything.

So naturally we perform our civic duty.

Into the basket go the mandatory bottles of Gin, Whisky, Vodka and Casanis, accompanied by vacuum-packed Serrano ham, which is clearly an essential survival item for crossing the Pyrenees.

Another charming feature of northern Spain: almost everyone speaks excellent French. This is extremely convenient when explaining complex international purchasing strategies involving alcohol.

Mission accomplished, we drive a couple of kilometres into town, park the car and walk down to the seafront where several bars and restaurants are waiting patiently for us. After a careful and highly scientific evaluation process lasting about twelve seconds, we select El Canigó for aperitif and lunch.

We sit on the terrace facing the sea. A shy sun appears. It feels wonderful… although it is possible that the Caipirinha is contributing significantly to this sensation.

Check-in at our apart-hotel is officially at 3pm, but it is only 2pm when curiosity gets the better of us. We try the entry codes we received earlier.

Miracle: it works.

The building is an old house that has been completely renovated. Only six rooms spread over three floors, and ours is on the second floor. The result is superb: tasteful, spotless, modern but full of character. In short, an absolute bargain and a perfect place to spend our final Spanish night.

But rest must wait. We decide to take a long walk along the coastal path which leads to the Ruins of Empúries. The site is spectacular. We visited it years ago and will certainly do so again one day. Standing there, looking at Greek and Roman ruins beside the Mediterranean, one cannot help thinking that those ancient civilizations also probably stopped here for a drink at some point.

By the time we walk back, it is officially nap time. And like responsible adults, we take this duty very seriously.

Later in the evening we decide to explore the port on the other side of town, assuming there must be some nightlife there. After walking fifteen minutes we can still see the port… but it appears to remain stubbornly far away.

At this point we take the wise decision to turn around and return to the area we already know works: the one with bars.

Excellent strategy.

We end up at Bar 1869 where I order a couple of Piña Coladas and accompany them with what can only be described as a heroic attempt at healthy eating: a salad.

The walk back to the apartment takes two minutes, which is exactly the right distance after two Piña Coladas.

Soon we are tucked in bed, each watching completely different series on Netflix—me on my laptop, my wife on her tablet—modern marriage at its technological best.

The bed is perfect, the temperature ideal, and within minutes I am asleep.

I like L’Escala. It is not far from home, it has sun, sea, history, good bars and a Wine Palace strategically located near the entrance of town.

I will definitely return.

Possibly with a slightly larger car.

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