Intentions of biking to see the birds and then to the fishing port took me slightly further away than expected.
Making use of the cycle paths that run along the coastline of the Costa Dorada, in the opposite direction to my previous rock walk, I decided that I would only go to a certain point, enjoy the views and being by the sea for a while and then head back. But I just carried on pedalling, enjoying the evening. I arrived at the nature spot I was going to stop at and carried on going, the same happened at the next few spots I had in mind too. There were other people out, all walking, jogging, cycling or roller blading, a few paddle boarders and kayakers had made it into the water.
It was not until I reached the end of the coastal path and the sign revealing I was at the other side of the town I had intended to visit, that I decided it really was time to stop. I locked up the bike and made my way across the gritty section of beach to the rocks and sea.
It was another beautiful night. The sky changed from blues to soft lilacs and oranges to deeper oranges and reds. As the sun went down, the temperatures still did not. The sea was nice, as I paddled for a while. There was some litter, tangled up in the seaweed bobbing beneath the surface but otherwise the water was clear. A nearby delve held water that captured the reflection of the path side trees and houses.
Sitting on the rocks, eating an apple and drinking some water, I marvelled at the views and the people mulling around enjoying their evenings, also storing memories on their phone cameras.
It was almost dark by the time I started to head for home. Biking back along the coastal path I again had the beach on one side and what changed between grassy and residential areas on the other. The grass, wildflowers, bushes and trees had all become very overgrown and gave the areas an added ruggedness. The smell of the wildflowers and grass fragranced the air beautifully. Normally at this time of year, the path would be full of holiday makers and diners. Cycling would be difficult and the smells would be those of soap, perfume or seafood. These natural scents were very much appreciated. The restaurants and campsites were closed and empty. Sad in many ways but feeling these places in their natural, springtime, non-touristic beauty was certainly making up for it.
I stopped by the nature area on the way back. All was quiet as the resident ducks had gone to sleep, people had drifted away home. Just one lady remained sitting on a bench, even she left after a short time. Only the gentle sound of the sea remained, as seemed to be becoming the normal for me on a night. I sat watching the water, looking at the row of lights that make up Cambrils. The piles of bamboo on the strip of beach reminded me of the storms at the end of the last tourist season. It had been washed up from the rivers, onto beaches right around Spain. I had seen all kinds of items washed up besides the bamboo, there was even an armchair.
Looking up at the sky it was a clear night, the stars were twinkling and then, I noticed, moving. I kept watching thinking it looked like an aeroplane, a familiar sight that seemed so surprising. To think there were people up there on a flight. But then they were coming one after another and a little faster than planes flying. Were these satellites as I had read and heard about across social media just lately? Several to a dozen passed in the space of just a few minutes. I still don’t know if they were or not but I’m going to have it in my mind that they were, surely no flight path can be so busy at this time. It gave me something to ponder as I finally embarked on the final leg of my journey home, making it back and feeling good albeit a little achey, just before the end of the current curfew.