Mustachioed madness and snake

When I admitted I wasn't that keen on Surrealism, Kevin did question why we'd driven 434 miles to visit the Teatro-Museo Dali. Especially with Jemima - trying to stop her touching things/ breaking barriers/ lying on the floor does prevent effective pontification on Meaning. But I'm still pleased we came - the classic dripping clocks and stilt-legged elephants are in galleries around the world rather than here, but actually I enjoyed the setting for the art more than the art itself. 

Dali designed the building and you can tell: the first glimpse at the bottom of the hill showed giant eggs on the roof line; as you got closer, a beautiful glass sphere and slender golden Oscar-like statues joined them. And the entrance courtyard actually made me gasp: a giant sculpture of an upside down boat under the glass sphere, on a woman-shaped tower, with the famous Cadillac that rains inside at its foot, framed by a three story high painting that you can see through a same-height glass wall. I'm not sure I like any of the individual components, but together they make quite an impression. And it was a bit like that throughout: the scale and diversity of his imagination was impressive, even when I wasn't moved by the individual bits. I think Kevin's experience was a bit too compromised by Jemima-shepherding to enjoy it - and Jemima's highlight was definitely the accordion player entertaining the ticket queue, whom she honoured with her special bum wiggle dance, rather than anything in the museum. But we got Jemima in and out without destroying anything, so that was a definite win.

We are now in a town with a name as lovely as its practically circular bay: Roses (which I have no idea how to pronounce properly). We crossed some beautiful mountains to get here, with a forest sea spreading out beyond the rather miraculous road winding through and over the crevasses and peaks. But we have finally reached the Med, and our first long-termers campsite, packed full of motorhomes from all corners of Europe, having fled to the sun. It's not sunny and it's very windy, but it's the Med nonetheless. 

And this evening, we have all enjoyed our first proper dinner out, well-chosen by Kevin: nearly Spanish time (we arrived at 8pm); tasty pimientos de padron, with one in ten being a fireball; and delicious steak, or snake as Jemima calls it. (We tried putting her in the buggy to sleep part way through dinner, but when the snake arrived she sat bolt upright and demanded her share.) We agree this auspicious start to our coastal hop south is worth Kevin's 434 miles.

Teatro-Museo Dali:

Kevin, Jemima, and Roses by night:

Narvarcles to Figueres (Dali):

Figueres to Roses: