I speak Spanish very well. I learned it from a book...

I read a book called It's Not About the Tapas while I was at my Cousin Cynthia's place.  It's about a woman who cycles around Spain and proved most instructional.  For instance I learned all about 'cave'.  I was a little alarmed when Momery Twigg, now transmogrified to Rose Norte, promised me lashings of kava in Spain.  However a little reading of the book revealed that it's Spain's answer to Champagne - invented a cuppla hundred years later after the Spanish red wine grapes were knocked out by fruitfly, and left to double ferment in caves - how resourceful!!  If you've read For Whom the Bell Tolls (thank you Buronga Book Club) you'll know that the whole book, apart from a few atrocities, takes place in caves.  The Spanish obviously have a thing for them.
Such weighty matters were on my mind as Mum and I queued at Gate 10 to catch the Ryanair flight to Gerona.  The lady before us (there are no seat allocations on Ryanair so queuing is necessary if you want to sit with your Mum) was from South America and pronounced it Hhhhhhhirona.  I commented on this and the lady behind us said that was the South American way.  She was from Barcelona and they pronounce it Jirona.  This lady looked like a supermodel so I knew she knew what she was talking about.  So when 10 minutes before we boarded the plane, there was an announcement and she said Hostia!!! I knew something was amiss (and not just the H which is silent).  I had learned this blasphemy from the Tapas book and had wondered if I'd ever get to use it.  Yes, the announcement was that the plane was cancelled because of the French Air Traffic Controllers strike.  I'll never drink Champagne again - make mine cave per favore.
So it was the Monday 5 days later when Mum and I queued again at Gate 10 and this time made it all the way to Spain.  Rose and Les were waiting for us and the adventure began.  First a quick look at Gerona.

 As you can see it is a delightful place where people are encouraged to walk on pianos.

It's not all about pianos...  You may have noticed the mountains in the background.  That's where we were off to next, the Sanctuary at Els Angells.  I should explain that sanctuaries in Spain are religious retreats and not wildlife parks.  It was a hazy day and my photos of Gerona, the mountains and the coast were not that spectacular so I took a photo of this ceramic map.

And so to tapas for lunch  at a restaurant in a tiny village that Rose and Les and a few locals have discovered.

 Repasted, amazed and happy we drove to La Cru Lloret de Mar and Momery's home.

where the good news was that the fireworks we thought we'd missed on Saturday night were actually on tonight!!!  A few caves to while away the time until dark...  Fortunately I'd warned Mum that the Spanish don't eat dinner till 10.30pm.