Ooh the things we do to avoid potting on the dahlias and clearing the potager, and working through the list of things to do.
We have snuck south (yet) again to get our winter week’s worship of stone and cypress, seafood and city walks.
I usually wake early at the farm as there is always a ton of things to do. But on holidays? I really ought to be languid and slow.
It’s only 2 degrees Celsius here in the morning at 730am, but the sun blazes and it’s gloriously warm by lunchtime.
But it does mean I can power along parts of the city which have nary a tourist nor even a local. It’s not an early rising town.
And after three visits I can’t believe I have found yet another secret garden. I thought I had hunted out and gloried in all these blissful spots.
Jardins de l’Angel. Orange trees.
Sigh. I have serious citrus envy.
And my new favourite square Placa de Saint Pere. It’s the one I’m looking down on as I drink coffee and plot a walk to the covered market to buy my fruit and veg.
It’s not a show stopper in normal Girona terms (do look at that gorgeous curved building up the hill). But it’s sunny and bright and quiet and almost…. normal. I suspect you wouldn’t wake up here and find sixty tourists crowding your pavement and photographing your front door. Bless ’em. It makes for a happy ambience, if a noisy one.