BUT I would be a fool to complain about having the chance to relax in a beach town for two nights, cold shower or not.
Our drive through the Pyrenees was gorgeous. I didn’t manage to snap a lot of pictures, because I was completely preoccupied with Sydney Carton the backseat (that’s what I get for inviting Charles Dickens on my summer vacation) and afterward nursing carsickness apparently due to two hours focusing on the tiny font. Here’s what I did catch on the way:
Tossa’s a bit of a blur for me, particularly almost a week after the fact. I was admittedly a little moody at first, for reasons beyond explanation. This manifested itself in a staunch refusal to provide the city much photographic reverence.
For all I’ve complained about the plumbing, our hotel was right on the beach
Especially when the clouds went away!
We had some good time in the sun, and for the first time I actually enjoyed tanning on the beach more than being in the water. Dad disapproved of this immensely. He’d return from every mission into the deep with encouragement to take his goggles and check out the fish and coves. The first time I went in the water I reached hip-level and flatly refused to go any further. Mom finally taunted me into it by reminding me how much 10-year-old me would've been disappointed in Party Pooper current-me.
The next day brought a splendid surprise...
On our final morning we explored the castle further, and wound up wishing we’d done so earlier. There was this awesome outdoor theatre where I would just drool to perform anything Shakespeare...
|"Parting is such sweet sorrow..."|
And next time, I’m staying at this person’s house: