High-Fiving Palm Trees

Well if you’ve stuck with this so far, you may as well see if through to the end.

I’m really sorry it’s taken so long for me to write this last part of the story.

Busy busy busy

On the third day of our journey we headed South for our final night’s stay in France before doing the last day’s drive down through Spain.

There aren’t many places that we like to stay near the Spanish/French border, and so I’d tried to book a hotel that we’ve used several times, but I have a horrible feeling that they might have closed down as although their website is running I couldn’t make a reservation or phone them. If anyone knows what’s happened at La Terrasse au Soleil in Ceret I’d love to know.

So unable to use that one, I booked somewhere that we have not stayed before. Namely, the Chateau de Riell, in Molitg-les-Bains, near Perpignan.

The main part of our drive was great, no traffic, blue skies, the warm weather was getting nearer, then we left the motorway to go to the hotel.

I was driving.

We seemed to be running parallel with, and very close to the Pyrenees, but we were going up a mountain as well. The road became smaller and twistier, then smaller and twistier still. Our car is big and the drop off the side of the mountain was a long way down.

Although there wasn’t much other traffic, what there was was clearly being driven by raving lunatics with wings who had parachutes attached to their cars because they had no fear of going over the edge and wedged themselves up the exhaust of our car until they had a whisker of a chance to overtake which they did practically with 2 wheels in thin air then disappeared round the next bend in a cloud of dust with no thought about what traffic might be oncoming.

Each bend we turned we expected to see a scene of mutilation and horror, tiny cars embedded into the front of big lorries, body parts everywhere, but not one accident did we encounter.

All of a sudden, we rounded a bend, and were confronted by this astonishing sight.

The Grand Hotel – Moltig les Bains

A beautiful, traditional hotel, with a swimming pool, set in a bustling little village. How did it all get here?? Up that twisty road? It just didn’t seem possible.

This wasn’t our hotel though, we still had a couple of miles to go, and at this point we turned off the small twisty road onto a tiny twisty lane, round and round, and up and up we went through a forest, then we saw the hotel sign at last!

Driving into the car park I was a bit disappointed with the sight, the hotel seemed drab and functional and not really worth that torturous drive. As I got out, another car pulled in driven by an wizened old man with his wife as passenger. Mike waited with the car while I nipped in to check that we’d parked in the right place.

Thank Goodness! We hadn’t!!

It was an old people’s home. In the name of sanity who put that there?  Very old people have to drive their cars up and down that ghastly road to get to it. There’s probably a vacancy every week when one of them just goes over the cliff.

Our place was just “next door”  ie a few more twists and turns, but it was beautiful.

 

 

It’s a baroque folly-style castle. Very ancient, and surrounded by a forest. Truly enchanting.

The lady who owns it has transformed it into something totally mad.

We had a garden cottage which had a little garden that went out to the swimming pool area. The interior of the room itself looked like a cross between somewhere a Hobbit might live and an iced cake.

This isn’t our actual room but it gives you an idea of the plastering

 

 

The plasterer who had been given the job of doing the room, and as we later discovered the rest of the castle as well, must have used all the plaster in France and Spain combined, whilst demented on drugs.

I loved it, it was full of quirky objets the hotel’s logo was an owl and so there were owls everywhere, paintings, ceramics, stuffed, embroidered, and metal. Also lots of other items of bric a brac that in most places would have looked really tacky, but in this fairytale setting just looked perfect.

We were greeted by Michel, who was “The Man”. Traditionally dressed in hotel striped trousers, white shirt and a brocade waistcoat with matching bow tie, he unloaded our car and took the bags to the room, he was the bar man and he made a mean Gin & Tonic, he served breakfasts, he appeared everywhere he was needed like a magic pixie. He loved the dogs and insisted on taking photos of us in the bar with them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After we’d had his excellent G&Ts we put the dogs back in the room, gave them their dinner and and went for our own dinner in their beautiful restaurant.

Something we’ve often said in places we’ve stayed in France is that if their restaurant was in the middle of London it’d be a sensation with Michelin stars galore and celebrities booking 6 months in advance, and this place is one of those. The food was absolutely fabulous. Presented beautifully, cooked au point, and mouth-wateringly tasty.

While we were eating the owner of the hotel, Biche Barthélémy came round the tables to chat to everyone.

 

Back to the room, quick wee walk for dogs then a good night’s sleep.

In the morning we had breakfast in The Russian Datcha! Yes really. Which is built out over the ramparts and hangs over the forest. Looking out you truly expect to see a princess with long blonde hair pining for her handsome prince, with trolls on guard below.

 

 

We took the dogs for a walk, on leads because they also have a multitude of cats around the place and if our lot went chasing into the woods after the cats…..well 150 hectares of forest is a lot to search!

Before we left there was one thing I was determined to see, and that was the second swimming pool….. on the castle roof!

Mike was too keen on getting the car packed up and dogs in, so once we’d brought it round to the front he got on with that and I went exploring. Up in the tiny one person lift to the top of the tower then outside to the breathtaking roof terrace with yes indeed, a swimming pool.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The views were impressive, dominated by Mount Canigou which has snow on it all year round and contrasted beautifully with the blue sky and swimming pool.

It was at this point that I realised that I had the car keys in my hand. Oooh, I bet Mike was swearing. I leaned over the edge of the ramparts, and far far below I could see the little matchstick figure of my husband, with blue steam coming out of his ears. “Coooooeeeeeeeeee!” I yelled, He looked all around him, “Hellllooooooo” I warbled. Eventually he looked up. A reedy little voice reached my ears that seemed to be saying something like “Get down here – NOW – Jump!” Surely not??

I decided not to wait for the lift, but to go down the stairs. Even the staircase was spectacular. Carpeted in bonkers Zebra print carpet with a Brass handrail going round and round all the way down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Forgetting the hurry I was supposed to be in, I stopped off on one of the darkened landings for a nose, then wished I hadn’t as I was greeted by this picture of a creepy little girl on a swing.

 

Spooked I ran at top speed down the rest of the staircase, then became distracted again by the lounges full of bric a brac, but everso tastefully done and so pretty.

I was jolted out of my musings by the appearance of my – now much larger than life – husband who was a little bit furious about the car keys.

Saying profuse goodbyes to Michel I was bundled into the car and we set off on the twisty turny road back down the mountain.

Because I was forced to leave in a hurry I did not find their Thermal Spa which is somewhere about the place.  Moltig les Bains is apparently famous for its hot springs, hence the Grand Hotel which is a Spa Centre as well.

Thankfully the rest of the journey was uneventful, apart from each rest stop we took for the dogs where everyone stared at them and talked about them or to them (we were invisible).  At one place we were sitting with a coffee, the dogs had plenty of water to drink in the car, and a coach driver kindly came over with a bowl of water for them, which they proceeded to ignore, Embarassing!

We arrived at home in Spain at about 7.00 p.m. Opened the car door for the dogs to get out which they did, and then, having been in the car for more or less 9 hours with short walk breaks, they looked all round…… and got back into the car where they sat looking expectantly at us as if to ask, “Well we’d better be off again hadn’t we?”

Leaving them to figure things out, we unloaded the roof box and put things away. Mike got the cushions out for the patio chairs, I fed the dogs and we finally relaxed with our G&Ts in the lovely warm Spanish night air.

After a good night’s sleep we discovered that it is never a good idea to leave a house to it’s own devices for 6 months because it bites you.

Although the lovely Sharon had been in to flush loos and water plants, the house had clearly felt rejected and gone into sulk mode.

List of things that had gone wrong.

1)    Waste disposal had seized up and needed replacing.

2)    Dishwasher had developed a leak and needed replacing

3)    My Spanish car was dead, and the battery would not hold a charge even after being jump-started , new battery required.

4)    Automatic watering system in the garden had died, yes, it needed replacing.

5)    Most of plastic garden furniture had degraded in the sun and …………..

In a way this was all good because Mike hates being idle, so it gave him lots of things to do, and he got the whole lot sorted in a week.   We’ve also got in a load more plants and pots and extended the watering system to cover them, so it all looks very pretty here at Villa Marfil.