Cadaques

Nuzzled in the far North East corner of Spain along the Mediterranean coast resides the little port town of Cadaques. Don’t be fooled by this town’s completely off the radar status; it’s everything you could ever ask of a beach bound holiday; If snoozing on the white sandy beaches in between dips in the calm, crystal sea is your thing. The entire town is stretched along the coast allowing for its town center to sit comfortably along the harbour. Once I stepped off the bus and looked out across the town’s white washed buildings, I knew I was in heaven.

But all was not well in the Land of Oz. I had arrived quite late in the day to Cadaques and as it was the weekend, all reasonably priced hostels were booked. So Mark and I trudged along the town’s coastal walk, hoping we might find a quite beach to set up at tent. Easier said than done. Not only Cadaques but most of Spain’s coast line is occupied by either farmland or local properties. In a country so beautiful these people weren’t leaving any free roaming grounds. Just then the sun began to set and our worries intensified. Camping on a government owned beach was a federal offense and could be punishable by law. If we set up the tent along the water we risked a hefty fine and eviction. What else do you think keeps the hobos out of Spain? So we continued to walk until we found ourselves slowly drifting out of town.

By this point I was all too willing to curl up in a tree if that meant I could go to sleep. I let these thoughts run through my head as Mark crept around some of the local’s land until I saw a blonde head bobbing towards me. The first thing that came to mind was, and pardon my language, Shit, she called the cops. We were done for. Next time I talked to my mom would be from a prison cell in the heart of Spain while I swatted away an eavesdropping inmate named Leslie. But the woman approached us with a smile and looked at us through her huge heart and asked us if we wanted to stay at her place. We followed her through the iron gates that led to her property and found that Jesse owned a villa rental and had recently housed god knows how many models for a Spanish photo shoot. She then led us to what would be our lodgings; a miniature house. We were delighted to have been granted this kindness and after watching Jesse walk back up to the main house, we both made a mad dash, like a couple of 4 year olds, to the giant king size bed where we bounced on the mattress, over come with giggles while revelling in our good luck.