The sun was shining when I awoke, although it had been so wet the previous evening that the pavements were still glistening. I jumped out of bed, packed (= trying to force all the books I'd greedily bought into my hand luggage), and dashed downstairs for the breakfast I'd ordered yesterday on the spur of the moment, my first of the holiday. My train to Valencia was set to leave at 10:55, so if I wanted to see Tarragona, I'd have to do so quickly.
I limited my journey to the old town and knew I was on the right track when I found a wall running alongside the edge of a garden:
The streets were decidedly old:
One of my favourite moments on holidays is when something big suddenly looms into view at the end of a street. Tarragona doesn't disappoint for that:
It's all very clean and intricate:
It looks even better when viewed from the other side:
It's easy to forget until you get a reminder that Tarragona is uphill:
And so I escaped through that breach before quickly passing the conventional means of coming and going:
And next was a stroll alongside the road, downhill to the train station. I encountered a small park looking out to sea:
Before long I received reminders that I was indeed in the old Roman part of the town:
A little bit further along brought me to a lovely park:
And then it appeared - mission accomplished!
It's nothing compared to the magnificence of the amphitheatre in Pula, but this one did have the selling point of being by the sea.
One train fare of 40.10€ (why the ten cents?!) later, and I was on my way to Valencia.