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June 5, 2012
Cadacas
We don't really know what to expect; it was recommended. A quick coffee at our Chinese cafe by the train station, and we're off. Had I known the bus would take so long, and call at all the houses, I may have thought twice. But finally the mountains come into view. They are sandy and green, and look as if someone had crumbled moist golden sugar into precarious piles. We know the sea is near, but can't quite make out where until it suddenly comes into view at Roses, where we drive slowly along a pleasant but bland boulevard.