Day 93. Sunday 8 June.

Pre-flight preparation. A walk along the seafront to the marina and then along one of the breakwaters. Information board gave us the story of the town: feudal settlement, then 16th century(?) breakaway, town growth and growth…around fishing and then much later, manufacturing. Today, it’s fishing, manufacturing/ textiles and tourism. And a strong immigrant presence. A cooler day, so fewer folk on the beach (on the other side of the harbour) but there was the hint of a wave.

Looked for a suitable spot for coffee and ended up at Cafe L’Arenal, on our own back door. The waitress couldn’t really tell us what last night was about, but came back with a booklet that described the 2025 Festival de Sant Pere, which actually starts next weekend. We aren’t really much clearer what it was all about.

Wandered back onto the Rambla de la Plau, and sat listening to a pianist and singer entertaining diners at a small restaurant. We could be the audience without dining. Highlight for us was our special song, Moon River. We thought it would be the perfect spot to return for a dinner. Observing the African hawker working her patch was a reminder of the quiet dignity of others.

The afternoon was spent in quiet pursuits. D did mind games and T had needle and thread. We had decided to finish our Spanish adventure with an early dinner, focusing on the little restaurant that had featured the live music earlier. Closed. Proceeded up the Rambla – options were pizza, tapas, bocadillo or some sort of a combination of all or some of them. Up near the church a 100th birthday was being celebrated: we spoke to the family members surrounding the special lady lady and offered congratulations. The family members explained their status but we didn’t understand. No problem, smiles all round. Ventured back down to the seafront: same story. All of the main restaurants were closed. A Cran signature plan was unfolding: failure to achieve objective. Lunch is the main meal, and no restaurant wants to deal with customers on a Sunday evening! Fortunately, on La Rambla there was one offering a dinner (rather than tapas menu) and we eventually settled on that.

Deciding our menu choices was the next hurdle: we had lost the ability to choose from a wide selection, and we’re picky, wanting something different from T’s ‘one-pot’ offerings. T ended up with chargrilled octopus (on a potato mash…D has finally corrupted her) followed by beef carpaccio. D chose steamed mussels and slow cooked lamb – with rosemary potatoes. All with a nice Rose. The choices were fabulous.

T’s choices:

And D’s:

An early night, early start tomorrow and Uber to the airport. We’ve checked in – just need to drop bags and go through the hoops. 15 hours to Hong Kong, two hours on the ground, seven hours to Sydney. Easy!