Summer Road Trip to Rustic French Occitanie, Colourful Barcelona and Much-Loved Mallorca
Until now, I've avoided Spain on summer road trips because of mass tourism along the coast. It's not my cup of tea, yet I know not to write off a whole place just because it's popular, and the beaches of Mallorca had caught my beady eye. So this year we headed in new directions.
Our journey took us to some rural parts of France, satisfying my need to 'discover' something. En route we enjoyed distinctive and vibrant Barcelona and a heatwave, before setting off to Mallorca on the overnight ferry.
At the volcanic park 'Parc Naturel Regionale des Volcans d'Auvergne' we quickly found a gentle hilly trail, thanks to the helpful visitor centre lady's instructions, saving us wasting time (and data squabbling with Google maps).
With our 3-year-old in tow, and 35 degree heat, we missed the most dramatic views, but our trail offered wonderful panoramas. The whole place was remote, clean, and very green. The little one coped well, even on loose lava rocks on the steepest parts, yet fell over three times on the flat path to the car? Behold, the power of tiredness.
We popped into town for dinner, with no expectations, and were greeted with a sweeping square, abundant restaurants, water fountains, and a great atmosphere.
The following day we wandered the narrow streets looking for nothing in particular. We enjoyed a stroll in the colourful, well-kept gardens in the square - a great place to sit with a book and a croissant (or for a little girl to splash around in, during a heatwave now soaring to 40 degrees).
Into Occitanie and Languedoc-Roussillon, the landscape turned Mediterranean. Hillsides became scrubby, tall cypress trees popped up around chateaus, and rows and rows of green vines glowed in the golden sunlight. It really is special.
I'd booked a 'homestay' on Booking.com (a chambre d'hotes) in tiny village Adissan, run by the village Mayor. We sat in the colourful courtyard of the old building with our lovely host and enjoyed a nice cold lemonade, some Barcelona tips, and great practice with French (the Southern accent keeping us on our toes).
We were recommended a medieval town called Pezenace, for dinner. We savoured our glasses of rosé and sizzling gratins of parmesan and seafood, in that crumbly, atmospheric little town. The best bit might even have been Richard finally enjoying seafood, but I'm not smug or anything.
After a great breakfast of homemade yogurt, breads and jams, we said goodbye, headed to the park nearby for five minutes to bake to a crisp (we'd promised the little monster), and journeyed South into Spain.
Tummies rumbling, we stopped in an unassuming town before the border. Locals lazed on plastic chairs in front of shuttered cafes, and the deserted streets sizzled quietly. We stumbled across a cafe with a large noisy table being served tapas. The little one was hungry enough to try something new, so she tucked happily into my big prawns, unfazed by their necessary deconstruction.
Back on the motorway, planning a detour, I reached for my phone... Oh God, my bag. Don't forget that, I'd said to myself, purposefully hooking it on my seat in the restaurant. Now, 40 minutes over the Spanish border, our car was thundering South, further from all manner of important things. Sorry! I'm an idiot! What a tool... You must be so fed up with me! On and on I went, beating myself up in place of Richard saying what I assumed he must be feeling. That man is so patient with me. We turned around.
I clattered up the street. The restaurant's tables and chairs were stacked, and doors shut. Damn siesta! I knew it! Richard's turn was more yielding however, and I looked up from the car to see my bag being waved about in the distance. Merci beaucouuuup I called to the restaurant owner, and were back on our way. Phew!
Our stop at 'Calella de Palafrugell' allowed a pleasant little walk for coastline views, a walk through the white-washed village, an ice-cream, and a dip in the sea.
We arrived in Barcelona ready to check-in to a good old Ibis and head out to dinner. I was pleased to find a restaurant so good that we ate there twice; Can Nico, a street away from the Sagrada Familia and our hotel. What's better than affordable authentic tapas and paella, at least some local diners, and welcoming staff?
We were on our feet for two days in Barcelona, punctuated by air-conditioned shops, tapas, and the beach. A certain sticky little girl coped well in the heat, happily chattering about what she could see around the colourful city.
Barcelona means Gaudi-related sights and I had my heart set on colourful Park Guell and spectacular Sagrada Familia cathedral. Particularly as Klowski asked if we could go up the moment she clapped eyes on it. However, thanks to internet-only pre-bookings and a big problem with cruiseship overcrowding, we weren't able to do either. Also, the evening water-fountain light show 'Font Magica' was only running following our departure.
Despite these hiccups, we enjoyed views of the impressive Sagrada Familia from the play park opposite (most pleasing to Klowski), and took in views from the rooftops of Gaudi's Casa Battlo, and Casa Guell (one of Gaudi's earliest works). There's some funky decor in there too.
The Barcelona aquarium kept a little person entertained, and the Gothic quarter kept a bigger person entertained. The amount of shoe shops I came across was unreal, and the mini Camden in the old town's narrow streets, not far from Plaça Vila de Madrid, was a home from home!
I loved the Boqueria food market. Although packed with tourists, that seems to have become part of the fun. People from all over the world bustled around trying exotic tastes and local specialties; my tiny accomplice and I included.
The overnight ferry was comfortable and a real novelty for Klowski.
I'd stumbled across an all inclusive deal on booking.com at 'Club Hotel Tropicana' - Cala Domingo. I succumbed, hoping to periodically escape to reality. However, the whole area was purpose-built. We were hemmed into a tourist farm for a couple of days so just enjoyed the indulgence. To be fair, the food was great, the beach was amazing (and right there), and the building was not a high rise (I do get quite animated about that).
I wanted to find some remote beaches I'd spotted on Google maps, and we'd brought our blow-up kayak with us. But it was far too choppy to get around the coast so we stuck to the coves nearby which was still fun.
Back at the beach, Klowski enjoyed the sea after some fussiness about the waves. Internally I just don't have time for this, but I patiently distracted her with humour (who knew seaweed is such a funny concept?) and she was golden. The water was so warm, we didn't get cold at all, even after getting out.
We were glad to see some of the island after some beach lounging. We took a long (hot) walk to a remote beach with some stunning rugged coast, and drove to Alcudia, a popular but interesting medieval town. The walk along the walls offered great views of the town and surrounding mountains.
Mallorca generally felt more like the beaten island than the beaten track, but it is well-trodden for a good reason. I was looking forward to driving back to to discover more of Occitanie, and was sad to leave such an easy place to relax.
Back over the French border, we stopped at another chambre d'hotes 'Domaine de St Jean' on a vineyard in the middle of nowhere, near tiny town Bizanet. I'd seen it recommended on a travel article online. The owner was a another friendly local lady with lots of warmth towards the little one.
We sat around and played in the idyllic garden area, then decided to find something to do once the day was drawing to a close (typical us). Following a quick wine tasting at nearby Abbey Fontfroide, we set off to find some civilisation and hunt for dinner.
I've never struggled for food in France (within the confines of mealtimes) but here we struggled, and we needed to find somewhere quickly as we'd booked a music and light show at Abbey Fontfroide. It was a good job we had the car.
We passed through villages we couldn't even describe as 'sleepy' and eventually fairy lights and music appeared around a dusty corner in an otherwise deserted town. We were excited and hopeful, but seconds later, turned away - restaurant full. A few miles later, we came to a tiny family-run cafe and received a warm welcome. The family dog sniffed around our plastic table as we enjoyed our delicious French omelettes and burgers, and had to pay almost nothing for them.
The light show was an interesting way to see the Abbey. Little Klowski was very taken with the precision projection and music, and the general atmosphere was exciting and mysterious. It was also mysterious how we ended up taking half an hour to get back even though it was 5 minutes away. I'll blame Google maps, and the lateness of the hour.
Before moving on, we stopped at an unusual rocks and minerals shop and zen gardens near Bizanet that I'd seen from the car, 'Domaine de la Source'. It was the biggest place I'd ever seen devoted to rocks and minerals - the choice was overwhelming! Klowski enjoyed the swans on the little lake and I bought some coloured rocks for the garden, then we got out of there before more money fell out of my purse.
We moved up the coastline towards Montpellier, stopping at working port town Sete with its unique canal system and salty lagoon known for seafood. It is a pretty place in a 'real' kind of way.
First things first - lunch. I had a locally renowned delicious seafood and tomato tart/pie 'tielle'. Richard did his customary 'taste' of it before declaring his mild dislike of all seafood.
A boat trip on the canals taught us about the town and its history. It also allowed a little girl some excitement when we all had to duck down for the low bridges. We had a wander around the bustling town, poked in some lovely shops, then had a delicious dinner with a sleepy little girl. We set off, speeding reluctantly away from the Med.
We have always bypassed Lyon en route to the Alps, but this time, based on our French friends' advice, we stopped and it was entirely worth it. Lyon has a seriously confident identity and cuisine. I've never seen so many restaurants in one place! We crossed the river to the old town capped with the Notre Dame on the hill. The city can be seen from many angles from the various bridges and river banks, and history leaks readily out of the streets, churches and squares. Unfortunately some of the most well known fountains and squares were being dug-up, but we got the idea.
Usually by the time we're back in North-East France, I assume I won't see much that surprises me (it's lovely, but familiar). However, lovely little Langres gave us some new views to take in. It is a small town perched on a hill overlooking the surrounding fields and forests, wrapped tightly by high fortifying walls - which make a good little walk. We descended back down to the car park and I got the feeling the funicular lift was the highlight for little Klowski and her daddy, perhaps because it was the main topic of conversation for most of the journey to Reims.
Last year we'd seen a fantastic music and light projection show at the cathedral and I was pleased to see it was on again. It was at 10pm so we had time for the minor delay in eating due to the rudest waiter I've ever come across in France:
We can't leave, it's rude! They're just busy, I pleaded with Richard whilst we waited patiently. The waiter finally arrived, in such a flap he couldn't stand still. I awkwardly stuttured my order, lest I inconvenience him further... Du saumon??? He barked, gesticulating at the menu as if I'd asked simply for 'food'. My English tolerance dissolved rapidly. I took one look at Richard and we stood up, said we were leaving, and marched away in disbelief. We happily found ourselves a lovely welcoming restaurant with great food.
The Reims cathedral light show is completely free, so the fact it was so different this year, and just as good if not better, was unexpected. The music and lights were incredible and dramatic, the perfect end to our trip. (Not really the end though - I squeezed in some shopping the next day of course, before we headed for the ferry home).
Our journey took us to some rural parts of France, satisfying my need to 'discover' something. En route we enjoyed distinctive and vibrant Barcelona and a heatwave, before setting off to Mallorca on the overnight ferry.
Clermont Ferrand
At the volcanic park 'Parc Naturel Regionale des Volcans d'Auvergne' we quickly found a gentle hilly trail, thanks to the helpful visitor centre lady's instructions, saving us wasting time (and data squabbling with Google maps).
With our 3-year-old in tow, and 35 degree heat, we missed the most dramatic views, but our trail offered wonderful panoramas. The whole place was remote, clean, and very green. The little one coped well, even on loose lava rocks on the steepest parts, yet fell over three times on the flat path to the car? Behold, the power of tiredness.
We popped into town for dinner, with no expectations, and were greeted with a sweeping square, abundant restaurants, water fountains, and a great atmosphere.
The following day we wandered the narrow streets looking for nothing in particular. We enjoyed a stroll in the colourful, well-kept gardens in the square - a great place to sit with a book and a croissant (or for a little girl to splash around in, during a heatwave now soaring to 40 degrees).
Adissan & Pezenace
Into Occitanie and Languedoc-Roussillon, the landscape turned Mediterranean. Hillsides became scrubby, tall cypress trees popped up around chateaus, and rows and rows of green vines glowed in the golden sunlight. It really is special.
I'd booked a 'homestay' on Booking.com (a chambre d'hotes) in tiny village Adissan, run by the village Mayor. We sat in the colourful courtyard of the old building with our lovely host and enjoyed a nice cold lemonade, some Barcelona tips, and great practice with French (the Southern accent keeping us on our toes).
We were recommended a medieval town called Pezenace, for dinner. We savoured our glasses of rosé and sizzling gratins of parmesan and seafood, in that crumbly, atmospheric little town. The best bit might even have been Richard finally enjoying seafood, but I'm not smug or anything.
After a great breakfast of homemade yogurt, breads and jams, we said goodbye, headed to the park nearby for five minutes to bake to a crisp (we'd promised the little monster), and journeyed South into Spain.
Over the Spanish Border
Tummies rumbling, we stopped in an unassuming town before the border. Locals lazed on plastic chairs in front of shuttered cafes, and the deserted streets sizzled quietly. We stumbled across a cafe with a large noisy table being served tapas. The little one was hungry enough to try something new, so she tucked happily into my big prawns, unfazed by their necessary deconstruction.
Back on the motorway, planning a detour, I reached for my phone... Oh God, my bag. Don't forget that, I'd said to myself, purposefully hooking it on my seat in the restaurant. Now, 40 minutes over the Spanish border, our car was thundering South, further from all manner of important things. Sorry! I'm an idiot! What a tool... You must be so fed up with me! On and on I went, beating myself up in place of Richard saying what I assumed he must be feeling. That man is so patient with me. We turned around.
I clattered up the street. The restaurant's tables and chairs were stacked, and doors shut. Damn siesta! I knew it! Richard's turn was more yielding however, and I looked up from the car to see my bag being waved about in the distance. Merci beaucouuuup I called to the restaurant owner, and were back on our way. Phew!
Barcelona
Our stop at 'Calella de Palafrugell' allowed a pleasant little walk for coastline views, a walk through the white-washed village, an ice-cream, and a dip in the sea.
We arrived in Barcelona ready to check-in to a good old Ibis and head out to dinner. I was pleased to find a restaurant so good that we ate there twice; Can Nico, a street away from the Sagrada Familia and our hotel. What's better than affordable authentic tapas and paella, at least some local diners, and welcoming staff?
We were on our feet for two days in Barcelona, punctuated by air-conditioned shops, tapas, and the beach. A certain sticky little girl coped well in the heat, happily chattering about what she could see around the colourful city.
Barcelona means Gaudi-related sights and I had my heart set on colourful Park Guell and spectacular Sagrada Familia cathedral. Particularly as Klowski asked if we could go up the moment she clapped eyes on it. However, thanks to internet-only pre-bookings and a big problem with cruiseship overcrowding, we weren't able to do either. Also, the evening water-fountain light show 'Font Magica' was only running following our departure.
Despite these hiccups, we enjoyed views of the impressive Sagrada Familia from the play park opposite (most pleasing to Klowski), and took in views from the rooftops of Gaudi's Casa Battlo, and Casa Guell (one of Gaudi's earliest works). There's some funky decor in there too.
The Barcelona aquarium kept a little person entertained, and the Gothic quarter kept a bigger person entertained. The amount of shoe shops I came across was unreal, and the mini Camden in the old town's narrow streets, not far from Plaça Vila de Madrid, was a home from home!
I loved the Boqueria food market. Although packed with tourists, that seems to have become part of the fun. People from all over the world bustled around trying exotic tastes and local specialties; my tiny accomplice and I included.
Mallorca
The overnight ferry was comfortable and a real novelty for Klowski.
I'd stumbled across an all inclusive deal on booking.com at 'Club Hotel Tropicana' - Cala Domingo. I succumbed, hoping to periodically escape to reality. However, the whole area was purpose-built. We were hemmed into a tourist farm for a couple of days so just enjoyed the indulgence. To be fair, the food was great, the beach was amazing (and right there), and the building was not a high rise (I do get quite animated about that).
I wanted to find some remote beaches I'd spotted on Google maps, and we'd brought our blow-up kayak with us. But it was far too choppy to get around the coast so we stuck to the coves nearby which was still fun.
Back at the beach, Klowski enjoyed the sea after some fussiness about the waves. Internally I just don't have time for this, but I patiently distracted her with humour (who knew seaweed is such a funny concept?) and she was golden. The water was so warm, we didn't get cold at all, even after getting out.
We were glad to see some of the island after some beach lounging. We took a long (hot) walk to a remote beach with some stunning rugged coast, and drove to Alcudia, a popular but interesting medieval town. The walk along the walls offered great views of the town and surrounding mountains.
Mallorca generally felt more like the beaten island than the beaten track, but it is well-trodden for a good reason. I was looking forward to driving back to to discover more of Occitanie, and was sad to leave such an easy place to relax.
Corbières
Back over the French border, we stopped at another chambre d'hotes 'Domaine de St Jean' on a vineyard in the middle of nowhere, near tiny town Bizanet. I'd seen it recommended on a travel article online. The owner was a another friendly local lady with lots of warmth towards the little one.
We sat around and played in the idyllic garden area, then decided to find something to do once the day was drawing to a close (typical us). Following a quick wine tasting at nearby Abbey Fontfroide, we set off to find some civilisation and hunt for dinner.
I've never struggled for food in France (within the confines of mealtimes) but here we struggled, and we needed to find somewhere quickly as we'd booked a music and light show at Abbey Fontfroide. It was a good job we had the car.
We passed through villages we couldn't even describe as 'sleepy' and eventually fairy lights and music appeared around a dusty corner in an otherwise deserted town. We were excited and hopeful, but seconds later, turned away - restaurant full. A few miles later, we came to a tiny family-run cafe and received a warm welcome. The family dog sniffed around our plastic table as we enjoyed our delicious French omelettes and burgers, and had to pay almost nothing for them.
The light show was an interesting way to see the Abbey. Little Klowski was very taken with the precision projection and music, and the general atmosphere was exciting and mysterious. It was also mysterious how we ended up taking half an hour to get back even though it was 5 minutes away. I'll blame Google maps, and the lateness of the hour.
Sete
Before moving on, we stopped at an unusual rocks and minerals shop and zen gardens near Bizanet that I'd seen from the car, 'Domaine de la Source'. It was the biggest place I'd ever seen devoted to rocks and minerals - the choice was overwhelming! Klowski enjoyed the swans on the little lake and I bought some coloured rocks for the garden, then we got out of there before more money fell out of my purse.
We moved up the coastline towards Montpellier, stopping at working port town Sete with its unique canal system and salty lagoon known for seafood. It is a pretty place in a 'real' kind of way.
First things first - lunch. I had a locally renowned delicious seafood and tomato tart/pie 'tielle'. Richard did his customary 'taste' of it before declaring his mild dislike of all seafood.
A boat trip on the canals taught us about the town and its history. It also allowed a little girl some excitement when we all had to duck down for the low bridges. We had a wander around the bustling town, poked in some lovely shops, then had a delicious dinner with a sleepy little girl. We set off, speeding reluctantly away from the Med.
Lyon
We have always bypassed Lyon en route to the Alps, but this time, based on our French friends' advice, we stopped and it was entirely worth it. Lyon has a seriously confident identity and cuisine. I've never seen so many restaurants in one place! We crossed the river to the old town capped with the Notre Dame on the hill. The city can be seen from many angles from the various bridges and river banks, and history leaks readily out of the streets, churches and squares. Unfortunately some of the most well known fountains and squares were being dug-up, but we got the idea.
Langres & Reims
Usually by the time we're back in North-East France, I assume I won't see much that surprises me (it's lovely, but familiar). However, lovely little Langres gave us some new views to take in. It is a small town perched on a hill overlooking the surrounding fields and forests, wrapped tightly by high fortifying walls - which make a good little walk. We descended back down to the car park and I got the feeling the funicular lift was the highlight for little Klowski and her daddy, perhaps because it was the main topic of conversation for most of the journey to Reims.
Last year we'd seen a fantastic music and light projection show at the cathedral and I was pleased to see it was on again. It was at 10pm so we had time for the minor delay in eating due to the rudest waiter I've ever come across in France:
We can't leave, it's rude! They're just busy, I pleaded with Richard whilst we waited patiently. The waiter finally arrived, in such a flap he couldn't stand still. I awkwardly stuttured my order, lest I inconvenience him further... Du saumon??? He barked, gesticulating at the menu as if I'd asked simply for 'food'. My English tolerance dissolved rapidly. I took one look at Richard and we stood up, said we were leaving, and marched away in disbelief. We happily found ourselves a lovely welcoming restaurant with great food.
The Reims cathedral light show is completely free, so the fact it was so different this year, and just as good if not better, was unexpected. The music and lights were incredible and dramatic, the perfect end to our trip. (Not really the end though - I squeezed in some shopping the next day of course, before we headed for the ferry home).
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