Sitges, El Garroter (N41 14'1" E1 46'52").
When we arrive, it is sunny, but, it is obvious, there has been significant rainfall here, recently.
We are soon greeted by a pessimistic caravanner from Bournemouth. It has been raining for days he tells us, Cold as well, worst spring in Europe for ten years. It is going to be like that until at least Friday. Have we heard about all of the break-ins further south .... etc etc
Fortunately, I am rescued by a summons from Kathleen, lunch is ready, before I have finished fashioning the noose.
From the campsite, it is a short walk to the coast.
Wednesday, Kathleen is admonished by the Campsite "Guardian" for putting a washing line between two trees, (it was me who put the line up, obviously), and hanging her washing out.
Our pessimistic neighbour saves the day, by loaning her, his clothes dryer rack.
After lunch, we explore the full length of the beach area of Sitges, it is very smart, to the point of looking more like the South of France, than Spain.
It is one of the few (perhaps even the only) place in Spain, where we have been, where everything looks clean and finished off!
Needless to say, after such a long stroll, it is necessary to have a refreshing Gin and Tonic.
As we wander through the old town, (me looking for a cash machine), Kathleen is given the "soft sell" by the proprietor of a Beauty Salon.
He has a few good lines, starting with "what beautiful eyes you have, you shouldn't hide them behind sunglasses".
Good try, I would say, but, not enough to extract 50Euro from Kathleen for the "Dead Sea Salt Treatment". She beats him down to 15Euro, and then does not buy it anyway!
When we get back to the Campsite, a lone motorcyclist arrived. It turns out, he is 74 years old! His journey this year has taken him on a circular route, Calais to Biarritz, south to Spain to Gibraltar, now, heading back north again. He has ridden 500 miles today alone. Some people really are amazing!
Thursday, cycling along the coast, rounded off with lunch in Sitges, finishing with Brandy and Cointreau.
I know when it is time to call it a day, when Kathleen (telling me about her plans to visit a Bodega, we have been to before), gets the words mixed up, and says she wants to visit a Bordello, which is a very different kind of establishment.
Friday, and we head for St Pere d'Pescadore, but, when we arrive we find
This was a recommendation from a French lady, who Kathleen was chatting to in Valencia.