Portbou, Spain has a beautiful cliff-bound, rocky beach.
I had never been on a rocky beach before, only sand, and at first it was a little difficult to get used to. But the rocks are all perfectly smooth and polished, so the beach is still “soft”. The rocks are also of many different colors and provide endless hours of “Oh look at this one!”, “That color is so bright!”.
It looks simple enough from here, but it’s actually pretty treacherous in parts. (By treacherous I mean slippery.) We took picture after picture, but how many times in your life are you going to be here?
In the spirit of once in a lifetime photo-ops, Vlad and I decided to climb out onto a rock in the middle of the sea for a picture.
We got our once in a lifetime picture.
Unfortunately, in the quest for the perfect picture, I cut my foot on a rock and was bleeding all over the place. My mom continued down the path while I nursed my wounds.
I did get to sit and admire the color of the water.
When we made it back to the beach, I didn’t want to walk through the stones, dirt and streets of the town with a bleeding cut, so I stopped and asked some old topless Spanish ladies on the beach if they had a napkin. “A napkin?” They were skeptical, probably assuming this little foreign girl doesn’t realize what she’s asking for. Then I explained that I cut my foot on a rock and was bleeding and they flew into action, admonishing me for being on the rocks, emptying purses and bags for tissues, and ordering me me to clean my foot well in the water, sit over there until my foot dried, “here take another tissue for good measure”, etc.
As we left I thanked them and they replied “De nada guapa”. (You’re welcome beautiful.)
As we made our way back to the town, we noticed the sun starting to set and the clouds rolling in, a hint that it was time to leave Portbou and return to France.