I don’t really remember L’Escala that clearly. Mostly because of the huge amount of Estrella I drank, but also because I slept there most of the time. Hubby and I went to Spain during one of those years one sometimes has when is trying to make a living and comes back home at 10 o’clock at night, eats Heinz soup out of a can for dinner, and is so tired that falls asleep while standing. We just wanted to rest and be with each other (aawww – isn’t it romantic?), so we chose L’Escala.
It is a small town on the Costa Brava, in Spain. It is only 1.5 hours drive from Barcelona – although it took us a little more, because the company we rented our car from gave us a very ugly, brown Fiat Panda, which didn’t cope very well with even the smallest hills, and didn’t go faster than 30 miles per hour (even if it had, it would have probably fallen apart after an hour). It was also the only car on our car park, which was covered with birds poo (clearly Spanish seagulls know a thing or two about cars.) So, the 1.5 hours journey, which Google said it would take us to get there, turned into 3 hours.