Figueres

The egg sits atop the geodesic dome like it's always belonged there. From certain angles along La Rambla, Salvador Dalí's monumental creation appears to balance precariously, a golden oval against Catalonia's blue sky. It's your first clue that Figueres refuses to play by ordinary rules.

This market town of 48,000 people has spent centuries as a crossroads between the Pyrenees and the Mediterranean, thirty minutes from both the Costa Brava's beaches and mountain hiking trails. At just 39 metres above sea level, it sits comfortably in the Empordà plain, where tramontana winds whip through the Alt Empordà region and influence everything from local wine to residents' temperaments.

The Theatre That Swallowed an Artist

The Dalí Theatre-Museum demands time. Not the rushed hour some guidebooks suggest, but a proper morning or afternoon. The building itself IS the artwork – a former municipal theatre bombed during the Civil War, reborn as the world's largest surrealist object. Inside, you'll find Mae West's face transformed into a living room, Cadillac rain pouring indoors, and optical illusions that'll have you questioning your own eyesight.

Queues form by 10 am, especially in summer. Pre-booking saves an hour of standing, though the €15 entry fee feels reasonable for what amounts to walking through someone's fever dream. Allow two and a half hours minimum; enthusiasts regularly emerge after four, blinking like they've been somewhere they weren't supposed to see.

The museum's success has its downsides. Figueres attracts coach parties who see nothing else, creating a peculiar rhythm – morning crowds surge towards the theatre, afternoon visitors drift away, and by evening you're sharing La Rambla mostly with locals doing their actual shopping.

Beyond the Surreal

Walk five minutes uphill and the 18th-century Castell de Sant Ferran brings you back to military reality. This fortress could house 6,000 soldiers and stores enough water in its underground cisterns to float a small boat – which guides actually demonstrate during tours. The €5 entry includes these subterranean passages, though claustrophobes might prefer sticking to the ramparts with their views across the plain.

The castle visit takes time too. Everything here is oversized – the parade ground covers 12 hectares, the perimeter wall stretches 3.5 kilometres. Don't leave it for 5 pm; last entry is 6 pm but you'll feel rushed. Better to time it for mid-afternoon when the sun's less fierce and you can properly appreciate why this was considered the most modern fortress of its era.

Back in town, the medieval centre survived less well than the castle. Civil War bombing meant wholesale rebuilding, resulting in a centre that's more 1940s functional than medieval charm. Some British visitors find this disappointing – they're expecting Girona's atmospheric alleys and get modern façades instead. But wander properly and fragments remain: the 10th-century Sant Pere church where Dalí was baptised, Modernista buildings along La Rambla, the covered market where stallholders shout prices in rapid Catalan.

Eating on Catalan Time

Figueres operates on Spanish hours, which means restaurants shut between 4 pm and 8 pm. Arrive at 6 pm hungry and you'll find only cafés serving coffee and xuixo – the local crème-filled pastry that's essentially a deep-fried custard doughnut. For proper meals, adapt or seek out places like Cafeteria Astoria on La Rambla that stay open continuously, serving everything from roast chicken and chips to proper Catalan stews.

The Tuesday and Thursday market transforms Plaça de l'Ajuntament. Local farmers sell Empordà olive oil, dense and peppery, alongside honey from nearby villages. It's practical shopping for residents but fascinating for visitors – watch for the queue at the poultry van where women debate the merits of different chickens like wine critics discussing vintages.

Evening meals showcase Empordà cuisine: suquet de peix (a Catalan fish stew richer than bouillabaisse), duck with pears, and arroz del Empordà that's closer to Italian risotto than Spanish paella. Local wines from the DO Empordà region benefit from tramontana winds that keep grapes healthy; the resulting reds are robust enough to stand up to Catalan cooking's generous use of garlic and paprika.

Practical Realities

Figueres-Vilafant station, where high-speed trains stop, sits two kilometres from town. The walk takes 25 minutes along a busy road; buses run roughly hourly or take a taxi for €8-10. Regular trains use Figueres station proper, five minutes from the museum – check which station your ticket specifies to avoid an unexpected hike.

Summer brings fierce heat – temperatures regularly hit 35°C in July and August. The museum's air-conditioning provides relief but queues outside don't share this luxury. Spring and autumn offer better walking weather; winter can be surprisingly brisk when the tramontana blows, driving temperatures down despite the town's low altitude.

Many visitors combine Figueres with Girona or Cadaqués. It works, but don't underestimate travel times. Cadaqués requires an hour's drive along winding coastal roads; Girona's 40 minutes by train but you'll want half a day there too. Better to stay overnight and see Figueres properly than rush through ticking boxes.

The Authentic Edge

What saves Figueres from being just another cultural stop is its refusal to become a museum piece. Yes, Dalí dominates the narrative, but walk La Rambla at 9 pm and you'll see grandparents strolling with grandchildren, teenagers meeting friends, shopkeepers pulling down shutters after the evening commerce. The town lives beyond tourism.

In May, the Santa Cruz fair brings ferris wheels and fairground attractions to Parc Bosc. September's main festival fills squares with sardana dancing – locals joining hands in traditional circles, stepping precisely to cobla band music. These aren't tourist shows but living traditions; visitors are welcome to watch, slightly bemused by the earnest concentration on middle-aged faces as they dance.

Figueres won't charm everyone. Some British visitors find it too modern, too ordinary once they've left Dalí's embrace. Others discover it perfectly captures contemporary Catalonia – proud of its past, practically engaged with present, slightly eccentric around the edges. The eggs on the museum dome aren't going anywhere, but neither are the locals buying bread, gossiping in cafés, living their surreal-adjacent lives in this most practical of artistic towns.