Private bathing

Our last day, and we explored the town’s backstreets, picking up a couple of souvenirs en route, getting lost and then finding ourselves near Port Lligat.

After an all too short and ill prepared dip in a secluded bay, we sought to find another place to enjoy the sea and sunbathe in private. Our first discovery, over some towering rocks and down to a concealed spot, had jagged stone, crashing waves and one too many sea anemones. We upped and headed north, back towards Dali’s house. Quite by accident, we stumbled on a perfect sandy beach, small rippling waves and no one in sight, views of Dali’s house in the distance.

We swam out to sea, or in my case, walked as far as I could, swam a little bit, then turned back, struggling to cope with my red flip flops which sank into the sand beneath. Sam made her way out to the boats, and a small jetty. We enjoyed another infamous cheese and sausage picnic, using a perfectly placed rock as a table, sarong acting as tablecloth. All very civilised. I skimmed stones, Sam took pictures and we avoided a throbbing purple jellyfish.

Can Tito (again)

For our last night in Cadaqués, we returned to our favourite eatery, Can Tito. On our way, we stopped for pictures together at all the scenic points.

The town was busy tonight, with a triathlon taking place and all the weekend visitors arriving, the restaurant was busy too, though we’d already planned what we were ordering:

Sat in the same seats as before, we again enjoyed wonderful food. The squid croquettes were a perfect bite-sized sample of the Arroz Negro flavour and the paella balanced sea food and rice excellently. Sam thanked the chef personally, and we rounded off our evening with another heavenly cheesecake.

For the last time, slightly drunk again, we walked back along the coast, past the tall pink house, past the kids up late having parties and the romantically entwined couples, the bayside cafes, the jetties and rocking boats with weird statue on the corner (not a Dali), through the unlit roads using my iPhone as a torch, under the milky way, bats looping around street lights, to the hotel. Up the stairs, along the echoing tiled hallway, to our room.