Well we’ve been home for a week already. Why is it that when you have a holiday there’s so much to do afterwards, you need another to recover. There’s been visits to the vet for more worming tablets (can’t wait for those!), a spa trip to the dog groomer, pay the water bill after a half hour drive to their office, cleaning and of course shopping. So today is the first day I’ve had to write anything!
Our last week in Peniscola, that seems so long ago now, was a nice quiet one. Most of the tourists had left and many of the shops, cafés and restaurants had closed for a break before the Christmas rush. It was nice yet a bit sad at the same time. Pretty much the place was deserted everywhere we went but it did give me lots of space to run around.
Is anybody there?
The area around Peniscola, especially in the hills, is a famous olive oil producing area. Some of the olive trees are over a thousand years old (like the ones we visited we earlier in our trip) and people even say that some of them were planted by the Romans! And they still produce olives!
About a 20 minute drive from our apartment is a little town called Triaguera. It’s been here since Roman times and many of the buildings are also mediaeval. It’s perched up on the side of the hill and the old, narrow streets are ideal for me to explore. There is a Roman festival here in the summer when everyone dresses up in Roman clothes. However the main claim to fame is the olives, that stretch away for miles below the village.
Is this a Roman olive tree?
The main street stretches between two churches and on the way we pass small shops that sell delicious olive oil direct from pressing between ancient stones. Of course we have to stop to buy some. There is a telephone number on the door that you have to call then someone from the factory comes to open the shop. How antiquated, I think, but this is a town where time has stood still. We have coffee and cake while we wait. Well you have to!
Triaguera’s mediaeval church Just passing time before the shop opens
At one o’clock the church clock starts to chime – not with a bell but a recording of the local choir singing. The tune is “Valencia”, just to remind us where we are! I think it’s lovely but Dad said that he thinks after a couple of hours of repeats, he might start to go mad!
Time for a tune!
After we collect our oil from the shop – four bottles – one with oregano, one with basil, one with mushroom and one just freshly pressed, we start our journey back to Peniscola. I’m pleased we visited Triaguera. I like olive oil and one or two teaspoons in my dinner gives me a lovely shiny coat.
Yummy olive oil!
On the way back I notice that the sky is getting darker. Dad says he thinks there might be a storm. Oh no! I think, I hate those and I fall asleep on the back seat of the car until we get home. Dad was right. Just a couple of hours after we got back the storm arrived. It’s the biggest, brightest, loudest and most scary storm I have ever seen! And it lasts for hours. From our balcony the lightening surrounds us closely followed by explosive thunder. I hide in the bedroom but I can still hear the rain beating down, even through the closed blinds. The next day, thankfully, the Storm had gone but it was certainly a grand finale to our trip and we definitely went out with a bang!
Storm of my nightmares!
So after six weeks and just over 3,700km driving we’re finally home all safe and sound. It’s been a great trip. I’ve seen and experienced so many different things and enjoyed spending quality time with my Dads. My favourite places were the big beach at the Ebro river delta and our visit to Morella. Windmill tails for those. My least favourite place was the dog beach at Vinaros. No wag at all there. And would I recommend Peniscola for a holiday? One big definite bark there! With only a very few exceptions, totally dog friendly and a great place for a holiday. My top tip would be to go out of season – May or October because I think it will be very crowded in the summer and I don’t like so many people. Goodbye Peniscola – I’m going to miss you!
Now it’s time for a well earned rest. I’ve walked my little legs off and I think it’s time for another snooze. I wonder where our next adventure will be? Buenas noches amigos.
I can’t believe it’s nearly the end of our holiday already. Five weeks already gone and only a few more days left. We want to make the most of the final week so Dad said we could have one final big adventure. After lots of ideas – beach, countryside, town, castle – we decided on the nearest big city – Tarragona!
The city is about an hour and a half from Peniscola and has been standing in the same place for nearly 5000 years. Now that’s old! It’s been known by various names over the years but the Romans called it Tarraco. The modern city is full of Roman sites mixed in with more up to date buildings and is so big you can’t see everything in one day. As my legs are short and still aching from all the walking I’ve done, we decided to visit one area where we could see a bit of everything – Rambla Nova.
Rambla Nova
Rambla Nova is the main street in Tarragona and the place to see and be seen. It runs in a straight line from the Francolí river and Plaça Imperial at one end down to the sea at the other. At over a kilometre long it seems to me that it goes on forever! It didn’t exist until the middle of the 1800s because it was the site of the San Juan city walls.
The Rambla is a dual carriageway of sorts with lots of traffic passing on both sides of the central promenade that is full of fountains, statues and monuments. There are also restaurants and cafes so plenty of places to rest my aching legs!
Time for coffee!
We park the car near Plaça Imperial which is now the main transport hub in the city and start our long walk towards the sea. After crossing the first road I can see a huge statue reaching up to the sky in front of me. It is the Castells monument that celebrates the human towers that are famous in Catalonia especially during the Santa Tecla festival in September. The statue reaches up 11 metres in the sky and had 222 individually cast bronze people who make up the tower. It all looks too dangerous to me and I’m glad it’s November!
Castellers statue Music to climb by!
As we carry on walking I spot tall buildings on either side of the street. They don’t look Roman, I think to myself and Dad explains they are in the Catalan modernisme style again, the same we saw in Reus. I like the look of these. I always think I’m in a Poirot film set waiting for the murderer to be revealed. Some of the buildings look a bit tired (like me!) now but I can imagine how stylish they probably once were.
Modernisme on the Rambla Do the Munsters live here?Anyone seen Poirot?
Half way down Rambla Nova is the 1811 monument. It was built to commemorate the centenary of the siege of Tarragona after it was attacked by Napoleon. When it was made back in 1911 it caused a bit of a stir because it contains naked figures – not appropriate for the time. Dad said I wasn’t allowed to look because I’m only 6 but I got a sneak peek anyway!
1811 memorial
Finally we reach the end of the Rambla. It has a great viewpoint over the sea, port and to the old town. This is called the balcony of the Mediterranean and at 22 metres above the sea I can understand why. The view is great but it makes me feel dizzy looking over the edge of the cliff. I’m sure I could fall through those little railings!
Balcón del Mediterráneo Feeling a bit queasy
Back to the car now for a well earned rest I think to myself but no, Dad says there’s one more thing to see. Mene ad amphitheatrum? or should I say which way to the amphitheatre?
Luckily it’s just a short trot across the balcon and we can see the amphitheatre nestling between the cliffs and the sea below us. It’s a massive building and looks impressive even today. Tarragona (or Tarraco as it was known then) was on the main route along the coast of Iberia and it was the biggest and richest city on the peninsula. There was a forum, circus, walls, villas, aquaducts and of course the amphitheatre. It really was the place to be! The amphitheatre originally held 15000 people and as we look at the remaining building today, I wonder how many dogs sneaked in to watch the brave gladiators battle it out in the arena.
The amphitheatre
Can we go home now Dad? It’s been great seeing so many exciting places but I’m all holiday-ed out and I need a rest!
A few days ago I was just sniffing around, like I usually do, and I found an old leaflet hidden under a cupboard. With a lot of licking and pawing I managed to get it out. Now I admit I’m not that good at reading but I could see the letters “T O R T …”. Great I thought – a recipe. It starts with TORT so maybe it’s a tortilla! I love those eggy omelettes! Or maybe some type of torta! Who doesn’t like cake! So I took the recipe to Dad and to my disappointment it was a leaflet for the local city – Tortosa and not food at all! Dad suggested we go to explore and the next day we were all in the car on the way to the city.
A recipe or a place?
The journey was about 40 minutes and we were soon turning off the motorway towards the city centre. The road twists and turns past a canal but I can’t see any boats and in fact the bridges passing over the water only just skim the top. I ask why they built it here like that. Dad points to the fields that stretch out on either side of the canal but are lower than the banks. What’s that growing I wonder as I spot small green grassy looking plants sticking out of flooded fields. It’s rice! Did we take a wrong turn somewhere? I thought rice only grew in China but no this is Spanish rice!
Finally we reach the city centre. We park near the river. It’s very busy and traffic whizzes past. I’m not so keen but Dad says it’s going to be quieter soon. Tortosa is an ancient place and walking through the streets soon turns into something from Harry Potter!
We start at the river that has been at the heart of the town from its beginnings back in prehistoric times. I can just see it over the wall, stretching into the distance. It’s wide and on both sides I can see the lush green trees, something that’s rare here as the only rivers we have seen have been dried up and dusty. Tortosa is just 12 metres above sea level and I wonder if the town has ever been flooded. I’d prefer to be a bit higher, just in case!
River Ebro
We soon turn away from the river into a maze of little streets and then just as quickly we arrive in the huge square in front of the ancient cathedral. It is enormous and I can hardly see the top. The massive metal looking doors standing firm under the finely decorated arches. Dad says it’s been here since the 14th century and that makes it older than him! The carved water spouts high up on the roof – I think they’re called gargoyles – scare me a bit and they remind me of a picture I once saw of Notre Dame in Paris that had something similar.
Cathedral Square Scary gargoyles
High up on the hill above us I can just see the castle that has been protecting the locals since the Moorish invasions back 1500 years ago. The thick walls make me feel a bit safer as we pass under the archway and into the old medieval part of town.
The castle on the hillStill protecting the city
The streets are really narrow and the buildings reach up to the sky. Narrow fronted with a small doorway and usually only one window, most tower above us to three or four floors. People still live here in these streets that are hardly wide enough for a donkey and cart to pass through. I can see washing drying from the little balconies and I’m sure that everyone knows their neighbours as you can almost hold hands across the street. Harry Potter and his friends from Diagon Alley would surely be at home here!
Is this Diagon Alley?
As we turn another corner, squeezed into the medieval maze, we come across a big surprise. It’s a beautiful art deco (modernisme style in Catalan) house, right in the middle of an ancient street. It’s Casa Grego and was built as a fancy family house back in 1910. I love it! It’s my favourite type of architecture and something surprising in this old city. As we walk on we find another, and then another. This is a city of contrasts!
Casa GregoMore modernisme
Finally we turn the corner of the street again and we are back at the river. In front of us is a huge monument made from rusting metal. Dad says it’s the memorial for the people that died during the Spanish civil war in the 1930s. He explains that Spain was divided into supporters of the facists lead by General Franco and the nationalists. People who lived in the countryside didn’t get the option of who to support and they had to follow the local government supporters. In the cities there was a lot of fighting and Tortosa was the site of one of the bloodiest battles in the war. Even though underground shelters were built, which you can still visit today, thousands of people died. Franco eventually “won” and he controlled the country until he died in the 1970s. Apparently no one knows exactly how many people died in the civil war but it is estimated to be around a million.
Civil War Memorial
The memorial in the river was put up by Franco in 1960 and is made from the metal of the bombed bridges. After his death the Catalan people repurposed the monument to commemorate everyone that died in the war, not just those fighting for the facists.
This scares me and now I understand why we had to leave Hungary and my brothers and sisters. It’s scary how one man can breed such hatred and have so much control and I feel sad that my birth country is moving towards a horrible dictatorship where anyone who doesn’t agree with the government or is “different” can be eradicated.
It’s been an interesting adventure. My little legs ache and I need a snooze. Learning about the past was good but hearing about the war is scary. Now I wish the leaflet I found was for a tortilla recipe. I’m hungry now!
So I’ve not written much for the last week because I’ve been resting my paws from all the walking around. I’m sure all this exercise isn’t good for you, especially when you’ve only got little legs. When we get home I’m definitely going to have a rest! If Dad says it’s time for a walk in the olives, I’m going to pretend to be asleep!
The other day we all decided that we would havae a nice, quiet relaxing day. A little trip to the dog beach and then a snooze. Vinaros is another town about 20 minutes from here and it has two dog beaches to explore. Yay! Off we set in the car and we were soon at the first beach.
Vinaros Dog Beach – Mark I
Hmm disappointment! There are miles of lovely sandy spots along this coast and the local council decided that us doggy visitors only deserve a really rocky beach. Dad said it was worse than Brighton beach and he should know as he comes from there! The pebbles were large and, well, pebbly and it was difficult to walk on. The sea got deep really quickly as well. As it’s October there were only a few other doggy friends there but noone was impressed. Not even a rubbish bin to put used poop bags! Yuk!
Not much fun on the pebbles!
There was a little viewpoint just a few minutes walk away and that was nice. It’s called a Bufador in spanish and it means a blowhole in the rock where the water splashes up when it’s rough. We spotted the hole but luckily it was a calm day so no buff-ing today!
View from the Bufador
Back in the carand off to find the second beach. The SatNav said it was just along the coast and after following a narrow road right next to the sea, we found it. Much nicer than the last place. The Platja de Aguiadolivas was another pebbly beach but much easier to walk on with lovely crystal clear water and much shallower. I liked it! It was quiet and apart from one other German family with their pooch it was only us.
A nice spot to relax
The Sat Nav said we needed to drive across the beach to reach the road back home. It looked a bit stony for our little car but we could see tyre tracks passing in front of us and, apart from a very small sign saying soft road surface, everything seemed fine. We stopped and looked at the way ahead for a while deciding if we should go or not. Finally we chose yes and off we went. Wow what an adventure driving on a beach, the sea on one side and a pond on the other! This is fun I thought as we trundled across the pebbles. Oh! Why are we stopping Dad? Is it because we are stuck? Oops! We all get out and look around the car and yes the front wheel has sunk in the sand we are are, well, stuck!
Well and truly stuck!
After a lot of big words that I don’t understand (luckily), we all start to try and dig the stuck wheel out! We use our old Hungarian number plate which is still in the boot after we changed the car to Spanish, Dad goes off to look for old palm branches to put under the wheel and I did with my paws!
After about half and hour we are still stuck so Dad decides to ring the rescue service. They understood the problem and found where we were and said the rescue van would be about 20 minutes. Great I think, time for a bit more exploring on the beach and even a snooze when we get back.
More exploring!
The breakdown truck arrives. It’s big! No problem the driver says as he backs down onto the beach and unhooks the tow wire. Dad fixes it to the towing ring on the car and we’re ready to go. The truck driver pulls the wire tight. Soon be on the move again I think and ….. the wire breaks as the rescue truck sinks into the sand too! Duh! More time to explore I think. What an exciting day!
Rescue at last!
After another hour a second tow truck arrives who now needs to rescue the first truck and us! He seems to know that it’s not a good idea to drive onto the beach so he stops on the road. Out comes another tow cable and eventually the first truck is free. The two drivers stand looking at our car, trying to decide what to do. By this time there is quite an audience watching the excitement. I suggest we sell tickets!
The truck drivers decide to connect two long wires together and then drag us off the beach. After lots of complaining and huffing the wires are connected. Ooops! Guess what! They aren’t long enough! Are we ever going to get home I ask myself!
Will we ever get home?
Luckily the nice German man is still on the beach and he offers an extra towing strap to connect eveything together. Dad hooks the wire onto the towing ring and the wire goes tight. Finally we are moving! Slowly but surely we slide along the beach until we reach the car park. Rescue time 5 minutes – total time on the beach 3 hours!
Moral of the story and our little trip to the dog beach – don’t believe the SatNav and if it looks too stony, then it probably is! Let’s go home now Dad – but the long way back please!
We’ve decided to go exploring today and of course it involves my favourite transport – the car or as we call it here in Spain coche. But today I’m confused because Dad says it’s called cotxe! Only for today though because we’re going to Catalonia and apparently they don’t speak Spanish there – it’s Catalan! Just when I thought I’d got the hang of things.
So we are soon whizzing up the motorway and in just over an hour we arrive in a place called Reus. This old town is between the mountains and the sea and is famous for wine making and liquors. Sounds yummy to me but Dad says I’m too young for tasting so I have to make do with a bowl of water while they have coffee in Prim Square.
Coffee for them – water for me!
Most people only know the town because of the airport that has low cost flights to the UK. However people have lived here since Roman times and the name actually means Roman Prison! I’m glad I wasn’t around then as it doesn’t sound like much fun. The town was small until the 18th century when the liquor production really took off and the town expanded. At that time it was the biggest liquor producer in the world, even bigger than Paris and London.
The other thing that Reus is famous for is it is the birthplace of modernisme art. At the start of the 1900s Art nouveau was the big fashion and Spain was also part of the craze. Each country had it’s own take on the style but Spain was a bit different. I’ve always thought of Spain as one country but in fact it is a complex mix of 15 seperate regions, each with it’s own style, culture and, in many cases dialect or even language. Catalonia is no exception and the modernisme style brought it’s own uniqueness.
Plaça del Mercadal
One of the greatest artists of the time was Antonio Gaudi and he was born in Reus in 1852. As we walk through the narrow streets of the old town, we find the little house where he was born into a family of coppersmiths. Although there are none of his designs in the town – he worked mainly in Barcelona – the modernisme style can be seen everywhere. It contains the symbols of the region, culture and language which were all banned at the time and are displayed in the designs of the unique buildings.
Gaudi’s birthplace
The streets in the old part of the town are narrow and cobbled but nearly every house has been designed by a famous architect of the era. Plaques in the floor in front of the buildings state the architects name and the dates of the buildings. I wonder how many dogs have sniffed around these streets!
Who designed this one?
We reach the church that has been standing since the 13th century. It’s one of the few buildings that don’t have the modernisme influence. However the sign outside says that Gaudi used the spiral staircases in the tower as inspiration for his most famous work in La Sagrada Familia church in Barcelona.
Inspirations
As we stroll back into the Plaça del Mercadal, we stop to admire the beautiful Casa Navás. It’s so grand I think it must be a government building but I am wrong. It was built in 1901 as a private house. Wow! Too grand for me!
Casa Navás
I spot a little stone marker in the floor of the square that says tronada. I ask Dad what it means and he says it’s a Catalan word for storm but in fact it marks the spot where the famous Saint Pere celebration takes place and where a huge display of fireworks takes place. I hate fireworks so I start to make a run back to the car – I’m not taking any chances!
Tronada! Not for me!
I love Reus. Not only because it’s the birthplace of my favourite designer – I might ask for a Gaud designed dog bowl for Christmas! – but the people here are proud of their heritage which has been repressed and even banned for so many years. Catalan is a beautiful and unique language and I’m an honoured dog being able to experience something so unique, even if it was only a day.
After a few days of R and R, Dad said we could go and find El Cid’s castle today. That sounds exciting especially since it involves a trip in the car! Dad said the castle is in a town called Morella, about an hour from here,up in the mountains. Castles I like but who is this El Cid guy? Must be a big cheese to have a castle!
el Cid
So it turns out that El Cid is actually a guy called Diego Rodriguez and is a pretty bug deal here in Spain. He was a famous medieval knight back in around 1050. Apparently he fought for both the Christians and the Moors and was known as El Cid – meaning the Lord in Spanish – because he was so fierce. He was born in Burgos which is a town in the North of Spain and Morella is on the ancient road linking it with the coast at Vinaros. The road was twisty and dangerous and would have taken weeks to travel. Luckily we are soon whizzing up the new expressway over the mountain passes and then down into the valleys. Soon the town comes into view!
My First View of Morella
Dad says there has been people living here since prehistoric times and there was a castle high up on the hill from the 8th century. El Cid rebuilt it and you can still see it standing grandly towering over the town below. From the main road I can see the old medieval houses hiding behind the huge fortifications with the castle above. Soon we pull into the car park – no donkeys for us unlike El Cid and we walk towards the gatehouse that protects the old town. It has two huge stone towers that housed the gate and as I look up they seem to go up forever!
The Gatehouse made my neck hurt!
We pass through and come into a pretty little square. Hooray! The first thing I see is a shop selling my favourite food – cheese! All traditionally made and my nose goes into overdrive with the yummy smell. Dad says I can’t go in! Morella is famous for it’s traditional cheese industry as well as handmade blankets and honey. The old streets are lined with shops selling all of them.
Cheese!! Cheese! Cheese!
We walk down the main street which is now car free – luckily for me! It’s cobbled and the stones hurt my feet. We are looking for cafe for some lunch. I’m not that impressed. I want to have a rest but most of the places are full! We find one that has tables but doesn’t want me to sit there so we go elsewhere – the cheek of it! Another waitress is more interested in her phone but we do finally find a place for a yummy waffle and a coffee. Dad shares a bit of his waffle with me. How lucky am I!
After lunch, we follow the winding streets. No need for a map and no worries if we get lost. The road passes up into the old square in front of the church. I can see the castle hiding behind. The church has been here since the 13th century and I can see the statues have been worn away with the bad weather over the years. In summer it can be up to 40C here but in the winter the hilltop setting goes as low as -10C! I sit with Dad and wonder how many dogs have also sat in that square over the years.
Getting lost in the back streetsHow many dogs have been here?
The sun is starting to disappear now – well it is the middle of October, so we start our walk back to the car. There are hundreds of steps – going up and down – and the road seems to go on forever! I’ve only got little legs so I have to walk double the distance. I wonder how El Cid would have managed getting up and down to his castle in all that armour.
I like steps but not that much!
As we set off back down the road towards the coast, the car rocks me to sleep. I start to dream about all the battles El Cid had. Good knight!
The last few days have been a bit of a mixed bag, but then it is the middle of October so what do you expect? Hot and sunny with lots of people still on the beach but then thunder and rain. Lots of rain! So we’ve been having a bit of a lazy time of things.
Saturday started well enough with lots of sun again but soon the storm clouds were gathering. Instead of the beach we decided to have a look in the countryside (or campo as us multilingual canines like to call it). The journey took us up towards the mountains and we found a big group of old olive trees. Old really isn’t the right word to describe them – ancient, antique, vintage – might be better as they are supposed to be over 1000 years old and are planted right next to a Roman road. Dad said they were out of bounds for a pee so I was a bit disappointed! How many dogs have peed up them over the years? That’s something to think about!
Dad says no to a toilet break!
On Monday we decided to visit the old town again. Nothing special planned just a little walk and a coffee. Although it’s cobbly and a bit tough on my paws I like watching the fish jumping in the pools below the castle and seeing the tourists struggling up the hill from my viewpoint under a nice cafe table. What we didn’t know was it was market day and with the weather cooler than before the whole world decided to see what was on offer. The result was nowhere, and I do mean nowhere to park! Maybe next week will be quieter and we’ll get a chance to see what tat is on offer.
So instead of a relaxing morning, we decided to take a drive along the old coast road. The trip into the Sierra de la Irta was more than a bit bumpy and although I say drive it was more like a rollercoaster over the dirt tracks and rocks. We finally reached the car park overlooking the old town in the distance with rocks going down to the sea. It was a great chance to explore some of the rock pools that the storms had left and, even though my stomach wasn’t so keen, I really enjoyed poking around to see what I could find.
Fun on the rocks!
Today is hot and sunny again and is a national holiday here in Spain. It is the National Day of Spain and celebrates the history of the Kingdom of Spain and the colonies, especially in Latin America. It’s also one of the last national holidays of the year and we have already noticed lots of people closing up their holiday apartments for the winter. The seafront is very busy today and so many people scare me. It doesn’t help that Dad found a huge dragon next to the sea! I’m not that keen. Maybe next week will be quieter.
With Spain being a peninsula, most of it is surrounded by the sea. Now I’m not a water dog – I’ve only got short legs so even a little wave scares me and I’m not to keen on the salt because it gets in my fur and is really sticky – but I do like the beach. It’s full of interesting smells and things to snuffle around in so when Dad says beachtime, I’m happy.
Beach time
Like I said there are miles of coast to explore and in fact the Mediterranean side has 1670km on it’s own – so I’m more than happy! It runs all the way from the French boarder in the north to Portugal in the south so hundreds of beaches to explore! Right? No wrong!
The problem with Spanish beaches is that me and my furry friends are not allowed on many of them. Some allow us in the winter but who wants to go swimming then? All summer when it’s hot and sunny, we are not allowed anywhere near.
The problem is that beaches are considered a bit of a cash cow by local towns. If you have a nice sandy beach then tourists will come. If you let dogs visit too, who wants to sit in a pile of do do? Now I can undertand that but it’s not our fault if a lazy human can’t clean up what we all do naturally and that’s given us a bad name. Let me says there are lots of humans who do the right thing and it’s the few that give everyone a bad name – ain’t that always the case!
However it’s not all bad news because finally local towns are realising that we have poochie pounds to spend too and if we are happy, then so are our humans and that means more money! Some places are more dog friendly than others and that just depends on the district. Luckily, here near Peniscola, there are lots of beaches especially for us where we can spend a fun day with our humans and meet other doggy friends. We have already discovered a great beach in the next town, Benicarlo, just a few minutes away. It has a lovely sandy beach and water to drink and showers to get rid of that nasty salt. I loved it there and even though it is October, there are still lots of people sunbathing with their furry friends.
Lots of fun places so closeby!
The next town, a bit further away, Vinaros has three dog beaches! How lucky are they!
However, watch out for Alcanar! What a disappointment that was! A lovely promenade with big sandy beaches but doggy friends are not allowed! Anywhere! Too fancy for their own good if you ask me! And they had better watch out because dog friendly tourism is the next big thing. Why should we be left at home when everyone else is having fun!
It’s been a busy few days and I’ve been walking my paws off! I’m only short so I’ve needed a rest before writing something new for my doggie followers. Today it’s raining – and I do mean RAINING so we’ve decided to spend the day relaxing in the flat with just a little doggie excursion for – let’s just say the necessities of life!
So today I thought I’d tell you a bit about where we are staying. We have a lovely holiday apartment overlooking the sea where we will be for the next six weeks. There’s plenty to do and I love going for walks along the long promenade. There are plenty of dog friendly parks and beaches to visit too but more of that later.
Relaxing before the rain
Peniscola has been a holiday destination for a long time and unlike where we live back in Sevilla province, there are mainly French and German visitors because it is much closer to the French boarder. In the Costa del Sol, back home, it’s mainly British.
Visitors have been a big part of this area way back to the Arabs in the 12th century. Peniscola was originally a little village on a rocky outcrop protecting this part of Spain from invaders. The first castle was built by the knights templar around 1300 and you can still visit it today.
Peniscola Old Town
The whole of the old town is surrounded by thick fortified walls and you go into the maze of little white-washed streets through the main gate, down by the port. It’s very narrow and full of cobbles. I don’t like the streets much because the stones hurt my feet but I do like exploring!
Plenty of cobbles for my poor feet!
We walk up the steep hill towards the castle at the top and pass so many gift shops, cafes and restaurants that it makes me dizzy! We reach the town museum and the cannon which stands guard over the battlements scares me. It’s freaking me out and I’m pleased we don’t stop long to look at the view.
Not so happy with the cannon!
Onwards and upwards until we finally reach the old town square with its gardens and the entrance to the castle. This was the home to Papa Luna in 1411. Yes it was the home to the real Pope – better known as Pope Benedict XIII. Dad says there was a lot of religious trouble back then (ain’t there always!) and Pope Benedict was poisoned twice while he was in Rome. That’s why he move back to Peniscola and manage to lead a quiet(er) life until he died here in 1423. You can still see various relics and other religious stuff in the castle but I’m not that bothered so we go and find a nice cafe for a drink and a cake!
Coffee and cake anyone?
The other thing that Peniscola is famous for is it’s starring role in the 1961 film, El Cid. In the big battle scene you can see the castle in the background. Just think I take my daily walk on the very beach that Charlton Heston also stood on! How good is that! No photos please! Signed autographs by arrangement!
A Dog's Travel Adventures in Spain (and other places too!) 