Narbonne

I spent the whole day getting to Narbonne.

First four hours on a surprisingly uncomfortable Spanish train. The locals had warned me the trains on the line to Barcelona were bad, but I’d poohooed them on the basis that you don’t know bad until you’ve caught a train in Australia. It certainly wasn’t up to the normal Spanish standards; but the views were fabulous.

Then I had enough time in Barcelona to get lunch in my favourite place near the train station, before braving the awful mosh-pit that is Barcelona Sants to get my train to France.

The last part of the trip to Narbonne is along the coast and past  tidal flats full of flamingos. So cool.

Then I was met at the station by our Air BnB hosts who were adorable. They showed me every detail of the apartment, arguing over whose turn it was to tell me something next. The experience was charming but drove home again how much my French has been overlayed by Spanish.