Another Side of the Costa Dourada by Maxine Jones
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Hotel Mas Passamaner
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Based in a hotel in the middle of Salou’s tourist zone, a short walk from Portaventura theme park, Maxine Jones went out of her way to find another side to the Costa Dourada
Tarragona
Tarraco, the old name for Tarragona, was the first Roman city in Europe outside Rome, said our guide, as he led us from a busy roundabout through an arch and into perfect peace. Neat lawns run alongside the towering walls, with cypress trees, fountains and statues – one of Emperor Augustus, a present from Mussolini in 1934. Tarraco was the capital of the Empire when Augustus lived here. A wolf was a more recent present from the city of Rome, the Romulus and Remus figures missing, stolen by vandals. Ancient Rome is alive and kicking in the centre of Tarragona. You stumble across it at every turn - remains of the forum among cafe tables, a coliseum complete with tunnels by the beach. The top of the Praetorium and the Mediterranean balcony are the best viewing points. Taragona’s cathedral is 100 metres long and a wonderful combination of Romanesque and Gothic. Built in 1184 it stands on the remains of a 10th century Arab mosque. A dip in the warm, deep blue sea and a choice of gastronomic restaurants, such as Palau del Baró in the old town, round off the day.
Cambrils
Cambrils lies to the west of Salou, almost touching it, but has a totally different atmosphere thanks to its working fishing boats. Blue and white, they bob in the harbour and the catch makes its way to the town’s 200 restaurants, two of which are Michelin starred. Graellada de marisc (seafood grill platter), suquet de peix (fish casserole) and arròs negre (rice with squid ink) are specialities. Most famous of all, is the award-winning olive oil, Do Siurana, used in all the dishes. There is even an olive oil festival in August. I hired a skippered yacht for an hour to enjoy the coastline around Cambrils. Cava and aperitifs were served on board. Sitting at the very tip of the prow, dangling my feet, I glided above the water. Back on dry ground, I sat down to a memorable fish platter and walked it off with a wander past the stalls on the promenade.
Rally round Priorat
North-west of Reus and a million miles from Salou, the Priorat region has barely changed since the Middle Ages, though recent investment in its wine-making has led to a surge in popularity of the Montsant and Priorat labels and an influx of young workers. In Torroja del Priorat, which has a population of 120 and was founded in 1200, we were greeted by Rik, the village dog. He was abandoned here and the whole village now looks after him. Rik led us to the bar-cafe where we met Enric. Enric moved back here from Barcelona three years ago, bought four buggies and, with the help of his brother at weekends, hires them out to tourists. We set off in convoy, the wind in our hair, through what must be the prettiest region in Catalunya. We covered part of the world rally championship route, on winding roads with vineyards all around and above us tiny villages perched on rocky outcrops. We stopped off to taste the famous wines.
Escaladei monastery
The Carthusian monks who settled here in 1194 wanted silence, solitude and natural beauty. They were of convinced God spoke to them through the cicadas and the flowers. Gifted cultivators, they replanted the vines that had been uprooted by the Moors and created a whole infrastructure - villages, roads, and a feudal system which lasted 800 years. Though villagers paid them tithes and taxes, the monks continued to live as hermits and nobody entered their domain. In 1835 when the monasteries were dissolved, the villagers pillaged and ransacked the monastery, using its stones for their own buildings. In 1989 the land was handed over to the state and parts were reconstructed to show the monks’ quarters. Excavators discovered Roman remains and there is still much to be unearthed. As well as producing the sweet grape for Priorat wine, the soil here nurtures delicious cherries, hazelnuts, almonds and olives. Lavender, thyme and rosemary grow wild. A bewitching place, literally meaning stairway to heaven.
Reus
Birthplace of the architect Gaudi, whose landmark architecture is forever linked with Barcleona, Reus has its fair share of memorable early 20th century buildings, even though none are designed by its famous son. On my way to the Gaudi museum in Placa Mercadel, I was delighted to be caught up in Reus’s annual festival for Saint Peter. Teetering carnival figures filled the square, as well as two demented horses with several pairs of feet in runners. Children surrounded the horses, guiding them out of the way of onlookers and preparing to take over when the heat got too much for their pals underneath. The brass band had the crowds clapping and cheering and the mannequins twirling. Everyone had a smile on their face. I stayed until the end when the whole troupe filed into the town hall, caricatures of the nobles of the Middle Ages. In the Gaudi museum I watched a newsreel from 1900 and saw the same figures performing the same dances in the same square, the footage shaky and in grainy black and white.
Aerobatics
From the same airport that hosts Ryanair, you can go up with a pilot in a two-seater plane for a different perspective on the Costa Dourada and Priorat. This is not for the fainthearted, especially if your pilot, like mine, decides to exercise his aerobatic skills. In the plane alongside me I saw the oldest, most corpulent member of our party be treated to a 360 degree turn. Mine didn’t go that far, but there was a lot of sweeping and diving. We zoomed over hilltop villages, flew low over yachts and followed the river Ebre to its delta, a national park.
Real Aeroclub de Reus, Aeropuerto de Reus,