Dali, genius or fraud?

The aim was to reach the Costa Brava to Port Ligueat to have a look at Salvador Dali’s house. I had earlier commented that we she seemed in a hurry to get there whilst I was happy to dilly dali my way down to Spain, but as I was driving Bluebell, (clearly even that nice lady decorator does not have the balls to drive a manic, 42-year-old, underpowered, over bearing and seriously underdeveloped piece of technology) then speed would not be of the essence. Indeed, we have still yet to overtake any vehicle on this trip, which so far must be close to 1000 km in total, this some 100 more than necessary, after the various diversions enforced upon us by that nice lady decorator insisting that her 1978 map of France is still valid. It is also true to say that in the 4 years that we have had her, Bluebell has only ever overtaken two vehicles, one of which was a cherry picker, and the other a Renault Twingo, whilst its driver had slowed down to take a call on his mobile phone, only to re overtake us when he had finished his call, hence there is still only one notch in the dashboard.

Talking of notches on the dashboard, I must report a difference in opinion as to the allure of Bluebell at night. Apparently it is not a red-hot love shack ready for love at the drop of a hat as I had been led to believe, oh no, it a solemn sleeping area, designed to leave the user fresh and ready to face whatever challenge awaits her the next morning. Such is life.

So Salvador Dali, fraud or genius? I am in the genius camp myself. Anyone with such a fraudulent lack of talent who has been able to fool most of the world for so long, and has an interesting moustache, is a sound character in my judgement, just don’t get me to comment on his “art”.

That nice lady decorator takes an entirely different view, having been enormously chagrined when owning a holiday home and hour away, as we did for 7 years, we never made it down to see his house,  the glories of which await us but must wait until tomorrow. This is because you have to book an appointment to see his house, a bit like an estate agent, so we cannot see this amazing feature until today at 2.20pm. However, if we are not there by 1.50, they will give our tickets away. I do hope that lunch is rather long and it takes an age for the bill to come in my view, which seems customary so far in Spain, into which we crossed just after lunch.

My picture today is of a fantastic place we discovered down a  dead-end and unmarked near Port Vendres.

Le Poisson Rouge on the coast near Port Vendres

We are booked into the only camp site in the village, and it is rather good because you can get away from it very quickly and the town itself is charming. A glass of cava for 1.90 Euros seemed very good value until it was tasted, so that nice lady decorator moved over to a local white wine, not unreminiscent of Sancerre, and with which she was inordinately pleased.

So today, as I take another day off from promoting the services of Currencies Direct, I will at last be allowed a lie in, before I have to do some lieing of my own by agreeing that Mr Dali is a fine artist, much undervalued by the population as a whole. You may think that this is lilly livered cowardice on my part and you would be right, but the lure of an easy life and the glow of contentment that she will exude when she not only knows she is right but her long-suffering husband agrees with her, will be a sight to behold.

Chris France