Judith's blog

We were hopeful that we would be able to fly Puig d’Afrou today, despite the forecast NW wind. The copious cava of the night before came to bite me and I was really hung over. Because I felt so ill I offered to drive for the lads and we set off to La Cellera. We could see wave bars in the Pyrenees from the outset and this didn’t bode well. On the drive up the hill we met Xevi who confirmed it was W at the top with only the odd waft up the south face. The wave bars were coming closer, so we canned the day and went to the beach. A good decision in retrospect, as it was W at Santa Brigida too.

We drove to St. Feliu de Guixols and we had a swim in the sea and a walk. Roger kindly offered us beers and snacks at his place before we all went to the fiesta in Girona. At the fiesta there were castlers, the human tower builders, of which there are associations all over Catalunya. There were two teams competing for who could build the highest and most elaborate towers. They each reached six levels high, with the big strong guys at the bottom and the last child up the tower being about 4 years old. The blue team built a six level tower and then built a five level single line in the middle, which they kept standing while the rest was dismantled. The guy at the bottom who was supporting the four people above him was sweating like mad!

When it was finished we went to the correfoc. My favourite! It involves fire – lots of it. You dance with (or in the case of Geoff and Wayne run away from) devils wielding fireworks at head height. You and thousands of others follow a procession of drummers around the narrow streets of Girona whilst devils chase you with fireworks at your feet, next to you, above you, etc. Hats or hoodies are essential if you want to keep your hair. With the music, fire and smoke it’s completely crazy.

At the cathedral they did a big drumming display and then set fireworks off on the steps before spooking the crowd by letting off huge fireworks in the midst of everybody. Then the chasing began again. In another square they had placed containers of fire on the ground which you had to negotiate (bearing in mind there were hundreds of us in the square) while they thew bangers at us. They had hung Molotov cocktail bottles in the trees and there were buckets of fire on the steps out of the square and more being chased with fire. Brilliant!

By the time we left we were too exhausted to think about going on any rides at the fair.

See photos of today.

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We finally made it to the beach today. Hurray!

We would have liked to go to Berga, but had a meeting at 11am, so would not have made it in time, so instead we went for a leisurely anniversary lunch in Roses and then slept off the wine with a snooze on the beach. I was determined to go for a swim, but the wind was picking up and it got a bit chilly so I procrastinated for a while, but then stuck my feet in for a paddle and it was fine. It was so nice I stayed in the water for ages, drawing amazed looks from the Spaniards who were wrapped up is shawls and/or jackets.

Nils is coming round tonight on his way home from a festival in Zaragoza where he was performing, so it will be lovely to see him. And even more of an excuse to drink Cava!

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This looks like the best day of the week, so we decided to go to the beach. There was a risk of showers, but when we got to Barmouth, it was warm and sunny. We found a little nook out of the wind and were soon snoozing in the sunshine. We had all sorts of ambitions to go hiking, but they all fell by the wayside after we got out our books and then succumbed to the sun again.

On the way home we stopped at the pass near Y Gribbin (a flying site we last flew in the British Hang Gliding Open in 2002) and went for a walk. Stunning scenery and we must go flying round there again some time.

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We stayed overnight, to see if it was possible to get another flight in France, but it was not to be. Targasonne is impassable and the wind was forecast to pick up in Cerdanya, and on arrival at Ceret it was clear it was already blown out. We didn’t want to sit around waiting, so we headed to the beach.

We’ve never been to the coast immediately north of the Spanish border, but had heard nice things about the villages, so we headed to Collioure. It’s stunning. An old port with beautiful old buildings and a nice relaxed atmosphere. Everyone seems to either run a restaurant or an art gallery and the houses are painted nice colours and have lots of arty touches. We sat around in the sun, making the most of our last day before the packing and cleaning frenzy starts tomorrow.

Next stop was Banyuls, which isn’t as nice. Lots of modern buildings and more of a resort feel. We had our lunch there, but it was so windy that we jumped back into the car to continue our tour.

We didn’t bother stopping at Port Bou, just across the border in Spain. It is completely dominated by the railway and its buildings. Franco decided to make the gauge for Spanish trains different to French ones so that it would be impossible to invade by rail. This means having to change trains at the border, and Port Bou is the last stop in Spain. I have bad memories of having to change trains in Irun at 2am when I went inter-railing as a teenager, so we skipped the trainspotting opportunity.

The next village is Colera, and although I’ve always wanted to go there, its name does it justice. Another place to drive past with a clear conscience…

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Big discussion on what to do this morning… lots of options. People were going to El Mont and we talked to Nicky about going back to Berga, but couldn’t face the drive two days in a row (so we are going tomorrow instead). In the end we went for the lazy option and went to the beach and then flying.

When we got to Roses, there was a cold on-shore breeze, and being east, there is no shelter. Reading in the sun wasn’t much fun, so we went for an amble to the end of the bay to look at the fish. When we got to the marina, the place was full of army vehicles and people getting into wet suits. They were the least likely looking army blokes, most of them looked as if they spent more time in the mess hall than on the training ground. Some where also a little old and one was bearded! There was a lot of groaning and stretching going on as they squeezed bits of themselves into neoprene. Then came the helmets (amazingly, since the words ‘health’ and ‘safety’ are never used in the same sentence here), so by this time we had forgotten about the fish and were intrigued to see what they might be up to. They lined up in pairs and then staggered (they seemed to think it was jogging, but you could have fooled me) about 30m to the edge of the marina. I expected a manly jump into the water, but they sat down and carefully lowered themselves into the water! After 1 minute the instructor got out of the water and then helped the rest out by pulling people back up whilst two or three others would push the more portly ones up.

Throughout this spectacle, Geoff and I were discussing if they could really be in the army and what the UME logo on their wet suits could possibly stand for. Turns out they were the Military Emergency Unit. But trust me, you’d only call them if the emergency involved running out of sticky tape or you needed a light bulb changing.

We headed up to Sant Pere de Rodes at 3pm to see if I could get a fly. Although it was east at the coast, and the forecast was south for the day, it was actually north when we got to the launch. It promptly dropped to nothing as I was getting ready and then started switching from one side of the hill to the other. The wind then played musical take off with me while I carried my gear from one take off to the other in the heat. At 5pm a dust devil came through and Geoff jumped on the glider while I tried to pull the lines in quick. In the end I had enough and decided pack up and carry down.

The day ended with us having a beer watching the sunset over the bay at Port de la Selva. I’ll miss that view when we leave in 10 days.

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The weather was hot and sunny and lots of people arranged to go flying, some at Puig d’Afrou, some at El Mont and some at Ceret in France. We toyed with the idea of going too, but by 11am there was no cumulus, and it looked stable so we decided to have a day off and headed to the beach at Roses.

When we got there there was a cool northerly wind, so we found a nice sheltered bit and had a sandwich and a beer. I got really hot lying in the sunshine and the sea looked so tempting that I decided to go for the first swim of the year. It was cold, but once you were in it was fine.

We spent the day as beach bums and then went to see Rolf and Dolores. We got a demonstration of Rolf’s new Wingo model aircraft design. 170kmph when you point it at the ground, and it has some pretty cool acro moves too.

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Geoff writes: As a change from flying and skiing, we decided to have a lazy day, and went to the beach, at Calella de Parafrugell. A beautiful, and very warm, day, where we just read, had lunch, drank beer, coffee, and paddled. In the sun, it was probably in the mid 20s, so it felt very nice! The weather has certainly improved in the last few weeks, after the indifferent winter.

It was probably flyable, and people did go to Santa Brigida, but driving back we did see some spectacular wave clouds.

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