BANYULS

MARKET AT ARGELES-SUR-MER

FRENCH ARMY HELICOPTER AT COLLIOURE

MUSEE MAILLOL

SOUR GRAPES

COASTAL VIEW ON WALK TO CERBERE

PORTBOU

HARD TIMES ON THE SPANISH SIDE

A thorough look around Banyuls convinced me that it was a reasonably pleasant place to stay. A quick look at my map convinced me that it was also a good base from which to explore some of the surrounding area.

Banyuls is a little bit like Dartmouth, but with a beach, plus lots of outdoor bars. It also has its fair share of art shops, but then it has very good pedigree in that respect as it was the birthplace and home of famous artist and sculptor Aristide Maillol (1861- 1944). Two of his original bronze sculptures grace the seafront. They are undoubtedly worth a fortune, but the heavy lifting gear that would be needed to steal them means that they are probably quite safe.

I decided to book 3 nights in the cheapest hotel in town. It's amazing how prices drop if you can live without an en-suite. Supper was in my room, courtesy of the local Carrefour, and all washed down with a rose wine from Elne at €3.80 a bottle.

Saturday morning I caught the bus to Argeles-sur-Mer, just a few miles to the north. Argeles is bigger than Banyuls and, like all these coastal towns, very touristy. However, Saturday was definitely the day to go because it had the biggest street market I have ever seen. I didn't buy anything, mind you, as how could I carry it? Nevertheless, I did enjoy a cool sangria in la Place de la Republique whilst watching the hustle-bustle.

Next on my list was Collioure, but to get there I had to go around Fort Miradoux, which is a French Army base. They were having an open day today, with lots of military vehicles on display and the French Commandos showing us how to helicopter a whole squad off the ground quickly by attaching them all to one big rope.

I ate my lunch watching the Puma helicopter doing its stuff, and then carried on down to Collioure harbour. Still touristy, but what a charming place. However, time was getting on so I carried on south along the coast to Port Vendres. This was definitely a working fishing town. All along the way I had been buying ice lollies just to keep myself cool. It was just so incredibly hot for someone used to a English climate.

By 5.00pm I decided that I had done enough walking for the day and caught the bus back to Banyuls. These local busses are amazing. One journey, anywhere along the route from Perpignan to Cerbere, is just €1...and the busses are frequent. Brilliant.

Back in Banyuls I bought myself another supermarket supper, and listened to the rock band playing Led Zeppelin stuff just up the street from my hotel.

I had expressed interest in visiting the Musee Maillol, and the charming girl in the Argeles tourist office had checked that it would be OK to go on Sunday. She seemed amazed that I would actually walk the 4km there from Banyuls. Kids today! I think that it might be better if they were born with wheels than legs. Hmm. I think that statement probably qualifies me as grumpy old man.

So, somewhere around 10.00am next morning, I set off up the road to see the Musee Maillol which, along with his tomb, are located at his former home in the hills. The fact that it exists is due to Dina Vierny, his muse and model for the last ten years of his life. I wasn't that impressed with his drawings and paintings, but I thought his sculptures were magnificent. Almost all were of nude women, so I guess that Dina modelled for some of the later ones.

I had considered continuing my walk to the Tour de la Madeloc, a hilltop tower that can be seen from just about anywhere around, but my maps made it unclear whether it would be possible to find a route there without going back to Banyuls. After a couple of attempts following paths that terminated in dead-ends, I gave up. It was 3.00pm by then and incredibly hot. It still took me 2 hours to get back to Banyuls, and the first thing I did was pop in to Carrefour and buy some ice lollies for immediate consumption.

I spent a significant part of the evening resting in my hotel room with a wet rag on my head.

On Monday I checked out of the hotel before the sun got too high and started walking south along the coast towards Cerbere. I needn't have worried. It was a cloudy day anyway, and with thunder in the distance and sporadic light drizzle, walking was actually quite comfortable.

The coast reminded me a little of the more rugged parts of Devon and Cornwall. Quite a large part of the coast is protected from fishing and other intrusions so that the sea fauna and flora can thrive undisturbed. I found myself walking through vineyards of Roman origin which go almost down to the sea. I spoke to a vineyard owner who told me that the grapes here have to be harvested manually because it was impossible to get machinery onto these steep slopes.

When I arrived at Cerbere I was quite disappointed. It was clean and tidy enough. It's just that there was nothing of interest. The reason for coming to Cerbere was because it was the most southerly French town on this coast. Thus, it would require only a short hop across the border into Spain in the morning to catch  a train from Portbou, the most northerly Spanish town, to Barcelona.

It was only 2.00pm, so I thought that I might as well carry on walking and make that short hop now. If fact, getting across the border involved a bit of a climb over the tail-end of the Pyrenean mountains where they come down to meet the sea. My crossing point at the 165m Col des Belistres turned out to have a lot of history associated with it. During the Spanish Civil War, large numbers of Spanish refugees came this way into France. Then, when the Germans invaded France, the migration flowed in the other direction.

Portbou and Cerbere have one thing in common. They both have large railway marshalling yards. However, things get a bit complicated from here on because the Spanish trains use a different gauge to the French trains. Hence, there are two tunnels between the towns, one for each gauge. The Iberian gauge track runs through to Cerbere and the standard gauge French track runs through to Portbou. Although Portbou does have an automatic gauge changing system for suitably equipped through trains, for local trains it is necessary to change trains at either Cerbere or Portbou.

Generally, if you are heading to Barcelona and want to avoid any kerfuffle, it is simplest just to depart from Portbou.

So, if you followed all that OK, I trust I have explained why I didn't I take a train directly from Banyuls to Barcelona. The other reason is that I simply liked the idea of walking there along the coast.

I found the cheapish Hostal Juventus in the middle of Portbou, and took a good look around the seaside town, even though the drizzle had now developed into full-blown rain. A lot of the buildings were in poor condition and there was evidence that business was having a difficult time. This was not the first time that I had seen evidence that the Spanish economy is still in trouble. On the other hand, I did see a couple of signs explaining that EU money was going to be pumped into Portbou to revitalise the area. In spite of it's tattiness, I still preferred it to Cerbere.

Tomorrow I catch the train to Barcelona.