When I last wrote about RoadTrips, it was to get you in the mood for a singing, swinging meander out of the house, along some French country lanes, and into the groove of stopping and slowing down. While my most favorite RoadTrips are less than a morning’s drive (leave after breakfast, arrive before lunch), I do tend to stretch out the slow miles with a nod to the journey rather than the destination. Today, it’s all about the destination.
For over 30 years, I have been haunting the nooks and crannies of the Catalan Coast- south of Perpignan and along the French curve from Collioure, Banyuls, and Cerbere and around the nipple of land that is called Cap de Creus to the mythical Dalí-esques landscapes of Cadaqués and Portlligat. I am partial to small beach towns and a bedroom that looks onto the sea. I first discovered those winding roads on an old diesel-spewing bus looking for a rock steady port in a tramontana gale. I had jumped ship in Roses and was told to check our the little white port town of Cadaqués. But as the crazy white nights of Summer years with fishermen and artists, cava and chocolate faded away I began to look for a quieter spot, less of a social whirl. A place where I could touch the Mediterranean’s salty sea and sleep in peace. I found it here. L’Escala.