Peralada

The castle's turrets appear first, rising above vineyards that stretch toward the Pyrenees. Then comes the lake, its surface reflecting a French-style château that looks transplanted from the Loire Valley rather than northern Catalonia. This is Peralada's opening gambit: a village of barely 2,000 souls that punches well above its weight in wine, music and medieval architecture.

Stone, Wine and Song

Peralada sits fifteen kilometres inland from the Costa Brava's crowded beaches, close enough for a seafood lunch but far enough to escape the summer crush. The village grew rich on wine—Empordà's garnacha vines carpet the surrounding plain—and its prosperity shows in stone rather than flash. Medieval walls still punctuate the old town, their worn blocks incorporated into houses and gardens. The fourteenth-century Carmelite convent squats modestly beside its Gothic cloister, where carved capitals tell biblical stories to anyone who stops long enough to look up.

The castle dominates everything. Rebuilt in the fourteenth century and remodelled into a Belle Époque palace, it now houses Spain's most northerly casino and a museum stuffed with everything from Roman glass to rare incunabula. Entry costs €7 and includes an English audio guide that explains why this small town amassed such treasures: Peralada was once the judicial centre of northern Catalonia, its counts controlling trade routes between France and the Mediterranean.

The real draw, though, is the International Music Festival held each July and August. Where else can you hear the Berlin Philharmonic in a courtyard that once hosted medieval jousts? Tickets range from €35 for chamber recitals to €150 for headline opera, significantly cheaper than Salzburg or Glyndebourne. The atmosphere helps: locals bring picnics to eat between acts, and the castle's floodlit walls provide a backdrop no opera house can match.

What Lies Beneath

Peralada's wine cellars run for kilometres beneath the town, their sandstone tunnels maintaining a constant 16°C. The Castell de Peralada winery offers daily tastings at €15, pouring crisp rosé cava and robust red blends that retail for under €10 a bottle. Their Michelin-starred restaurant occupies the castle's former stables; the seven-course tasting menu costs €85 at lunch—half what you'd pay in London for cooking this assured. The cheese trolley alone justifies the journey: fifty varieties, from pungent Torta del Casar to mild local goat's cheese, wheeled tableside by staff who know their affine from their fresh.

Sunday mornings bring a different kind of indulgence. The weekly market fills Plaça Gran with farmers from surrounding villages selling honey, olives and embutidos. Try the fuet, a thin Catalan salami that costs €4 a coil and disappears fast with a glass of Priorat. Stallholders speak enough English to explain their produce, though a few words of Catalan unlock wider smiles.

Beyond the Walls

Peralada works best as a base rather than a destination. Figueres, with Dalí's theatre-museum, lies ten minutes away by car—book the 09:00 slot to avoid Chinese tour groups. The beaches of Empuriabrava are twenty-five minutes south, their wide sands mercifully free of high-rise hotels. Drive north for forty minutes and you're climbing into the Albera mountains, where hiking trails lead to ruined castles and border villages that still speak Catalan with a French accent.

Back in town, life moves slowly. Shops shut between 14:00 and 17:00—plan accordingly. The tourist office on Carrer Raval sells a €3 map marking the medieval wall walk, a gentle circuit that takes forty minutes and ends at the lake. Here, black swans glide past waterside bars where coffee costs €1.50 and comes with a view that most resorts would charge sea-view premiums for.

Evenings centre on food. Can Xapa, tucked behind the church, serves traditional Catalan cooking without tourist mark-ups. Three courses with wine costs €25; try the duck with pears, a dish that tastes of autumn even in July. They close at 23:00—Peralada doesn't do late nights. The casino stays open until 04:00, but its clientele arrives by chauffeured Mercedes rather than on foot from the old town.

Practicalities and Pitfalls

Getting here requires planning. Girona airport, served by Ryanair from eight UK cities, lies thirty minutes away by hire car. Trains from Barcelona reach Figueres in fifty-five minutes on the high-speed service; a taxi from there costs €15 and must be booked for the return journey—drivers don't cruise for fares. Buses exist but run twice daily, timed for schoolchildren rather than tourists.

Parking proves easy. Two free car parks sit at the town's edge, both signposted and rarely full even in August. Motorhomes find services at the southern entrance, though overnight stays are discouraged. The old town is pedestrianised; wear comfortable shoes—cobbles and heels don't mix.

Accommodation divides into three options. The five-star Peralada Wine Spa dominates the lake, its rooms starting at €200 including thermal circuit access. Smaller guesthouses in the old town charge €80-120 for doubles with breakfast. Or stay in Figueres for wider choice and drive in for dinner—designate a driver; Spanish police enforce drink-drive limits strictly.

The biggest mistake visitors make is expecting to tour the castle interior. It's private—only restaurant diners and casino guests pass beyond the gateway. Stick to the gardens; they're free and photograph better anyway. Sunday and Monday see most places shut; time your visit for Tuesday to Saturday when everything operates normally.

Weather brings surprises. Summer temperatures reach 35°C but the tramontana wind can drop that to 20°C in hours. Pack layers. Spring and autumn offer the best balance: warm days, cool nights, vines either flowering or turning gold. Winter brings mist that swirls around the castle towers—atmospheric but too cold for lingering.

Peralada won't suit everyone. Nightlife means a quiet drink in the square. Beaches require a car. The village makes no concessions to those seeking foam parties or English breakfasts. What it offers instead is concentration: medieval stone, world-class music, serious wine and food, all within ten minutes' walk. Two days here provides a counterpoint to Barcelona's energy or the coast's beach bars. Stay longer and you risk adopting the local rhythm—long lunches, evening strolls, conversations that stretch past midnight despite the bars having closed. Some visitors find that habit hard to break.