Day 3 was the hardest so far, and the longest of the trip. I was driven to Roses, on the northern edge of the Bay of Roses, then walked the coastal track, up and over headlands, and down through little bays, all the way to Cadaques.
The first section was very scenic: like walking the eastern edge of the Prom, with fabulous views into blue water coves, tracks hugging the cliffs then meandering through little groves.
At the beginning of the second section there was a map showing a couple of other paths to some Castellos. I could already see one on top of a nearby hill so I decided to detour to check the other one out. Several kilometres later there was still no sign of a Castello - ruined or standing. There were lots of piles of slate which could have been parts of walls but I'm not convinced. I did enjoy the very sweet scent as I walked along though, it was like honey. I couldn't work out which plant was the source. Eventually I turned around and went back to the road where I had turned off. The map had shown a track from here that would meet the one I should have originally taken. There was a track but it petered out on the edge of a cliff. I could see the path I needed to be on below, but wasn't going to bash my way down to it. So again I backtracked until I came back to the original sign. Somewhere along there I think my lovely little bull, Zeus, came loose from his harness, but I was down in the next bay before I realised and I wasn't going to spend another 2 hours trying to find him. I hope someone finds him and gives him a home, otherwise he'll have to cavort with the coastal nymphs.
The second section was more of a slog, up gravel and rocky paths and roads, following along some headlands then down into the final bay where Cadaques nestles. My feet were aching and if someone had offered me a lift I would have gladly accepted. I was regretting my detour for both the time and distance I had added to an already long trip.
The only distraction was a persistent sound of many birds. I thought they must have been nesting on the cliffs, like the mutton birds do at Philip Island, but suddenly a huge flock leapt into the sky from the abandoned olive groves. They sounded similar to the flying foxes at the Yarra and there were hundreds, but it was too far to see what they actually were. They spent a couple of minutes swirling around, then flew off.
The views of the white buildings of Cadaques gleaming in the afternoon sun were certainly spectacular. Fortunately for my feet the hotel was at the edge of the town and I limped in to rest and recover. Distance about 20+ kms. Time 6.5 hours.
The first section was very scenic: like walking the eastern edge of the Prom, with fabulous views into blue water coves, tracks hugging the cliffs then meandering through little groves.
At the beginning of the second section there was a map showing a couple of other paths to some Castellos. I could already see one on top of a nearby hill so I decided to detour to check the other one out. Several kilometres later there was still no sign of a Castello - ruined or standing. There were lots of piles of slate which could have been parts of walls but I'm not convinced. I did enjoy the very sweet scent as I walked along though, it was like honey. I couldn't work out which plant was the source. Eventually I turned around and went back to the road where I had turned off. The map had shown a track from here that would meet the one I should have originally taken. There was a track but it petered out on the edge of a cliff. I could see the path I needed to be on below, but wasn't going to bash my way down to it. So again I backtracked until I came back to the original sign. Somewhere along there I think my lovely little bull, Zeus, came loose from his harness, but I was down in the next bay before I realised and I wasn't going to spend another 2 hours trying to find him. I hope someone finds him and gives him a home, otherwise he'll have to cavort with the coastal nymphs.
The second section was more of a slog, up gravel and rocky paths and roads, following along some headlands then down into the final bay where Cadaques nestles. My feet were aching and if someone had offered me a lift I would have gladly accepted. I was regretting my detour for both the time and distance I had added to an already long trip.
The only distraction was a persistent sound of many birds. I thought they must have been nesting on the cliffs, like the mutton birds do at Philip Island, but suddenly a huge flock leapt into the sky from the abandoned olive groves. They sounded similar to the flying foxes at the Yarra and there were hundreds, but it was too far to see what they actually were. They spent a couple of minutes swirling around, then flew off.
The views of the white buildings of Cadaques gleaming in the afternoon sun were certainly spectacular. Fortunately for my feet the hotel was at the edge of the town and I limped in to rest and recover. Distance about 20+ kms. Time 6.5 hours.
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