Vilamacolum

The tractors start at dawn. Not the gentle hum of a country idyll, but the proper diesel clatter of machines that mean business. Vilamacolum wakes to the sound of agriculture, not tourism, and that's precisely what makes it interesting.

This scatter of stone houses sits on the pancake-flat plain between Girona and the coast, barely above sea level. There's no dramatic hilltop position, no ravines, no postcard views. Instead, you get 360 degrees of cereal fields, fruit orchards and the occasional farmhouse rising like an island from the crops. The Pyrenees hover on the horizon, looking closer than they are. The Mediterranean's somewhere to the east, though you'd never know it from the middle of town.

The Village That Tourism Forgot

Five hundred people call Vilamacolum home, and they live in proper houses with proper jobs. The church of Sant Martí anchors the centre, but it's no architectural showstopper – more a working building that's grown into its surroundings over centuries. The streets radiate out for about five minutes in each direction before dissolving into country lanes. There's no bakery, no bar, no Saturday market. The last commercial enterprise closed years ago.

This absence of facilities either delights or horrifies visitors, with no middle ground. Those expecting a pint of milk and a packet of crisps within walking distance should book elsewhere. But if you've hired a car and fancy playing at being a temporary local, Vilamacolum delivers something increasingly rare: a Spanish village that hasn't reorganised itself around visitors.

The houses tell the story. Many started as agricultural buildings, expanded into family homes, then morphed into holiday rentals when the owners moved to Barcelona. Look closely and you'll spot the giveaway signs: fresh paint, proper swimming pools, satellite dishes. The conversions tend towards the tasteful rather than the twee, probably because the local planning department keeps a tight rein on things.

Cycling, Walking and the Art of Doing Very Little

The flat landscape makes for effortless cycling. Pick up bikes in Figueres (ten kilometres away) and you can pedal to the Aiguamolls wetlands in under an hour, spotting storks and herons along drainage channels that date back to medieval monks. The coast at Sant Pere Pescador adds another fifteen minutes, though you'll need to negotiate the N-260 briefly – not pleasant during August rush hour.

Walking options start right from the village edge. The four-kilometre Les Closes loop references local novelist Maria Àngels Anglada, who set parts of her Civil War trilogy in these fields. Don't expect interpretation boards or gift shops; this is more a case of strolling through the landscape that inspired her, with only the occasional information post for company. Spring brings poppies and cornflowers. Autumn turns everything golden. Summer's hot and shadeless – plan accordingly.

Serious hikers can drive forty minutes to the Albera range for proper mountain trails, or head north-west towards the volcanic countryside around Olot. But honestly? Vilamacolum works better as a base for gentle exploration than hardcore adventure. The pace here encourages lingering over coffee (bought from the supermarket in Castelló d'Empúries, seven kilometres away) rather than clocking up kilometres.

Food, Drink and the Practical Business of Eating

Nobody comes to Vilamacolum for the restaurants, because there aren't any. The nearest proper meal is in Castelló at Can Xavier, where grilled meats arrive with proper chips and the wine list features local Empordà bottles. It's solid rather than spectacular, but after a day cycling through rice fields, a properly cooked steak tastes like Michelin-starred cuisine.

Self-catering works better. The Thursday market in Castelló sells local apples that actually taste of something, plus recuit – a fresh cheese similar to thick yoghurt that works for breakfast or pudding. Empordà olive oil wins awards internationally, though you'll pay supermarket prices rather than farm-gate bargains. The region's wines improve yearly; ask for vi jove if you prefer something Beaujolais-light, or splash out on a proper Crianza for barbecued lamb.

Fish arrives from Roses and L'Escala, half an hour away. The locals shop early, so join the queue at 8am if you want the proper selection. Otherwise, the Eroski in Castelló stocks decent frozen prawns and fresh sea bass that'll barbecue beautifully beside your rental pool.

When to Visit, When to Avoid

Late May through mid-June hits the sweet spot. Temperatures hover around 24°C, the fields are green from spring rain, and you'll have the country lanes to yourself. September works too, though harvest traffic means sharing roads with tractors hauling grapes and apples.

July and August turn furnace-hot. The mercury hits 36°C regularly, and that pool becomes essential rather than optional. The village empties as locals head for the coast, which sounds appealing until you realise the nearest beach car park fills by 11am. August nights stay above 20°C – great for outdoor dining, hopeless for sleep without air-conditioning.

Winter brings proper weather. Temperatures drop to single figures, the Tramontana wind howls down from the Pyrenees, and everything shuts. Some villas stay available, but check heating arrangements. This isn't Andalusia – January feels genuinely cold.

Getting There, Getting Around

Girona airport sits forty-five minutes away on good roads. Barcelona adds another hour, but the motorway makes it straightforward. Car hire isn't optional – it's essential. The bus from Figueres runs once daily, timing its arrival for maximum inconvenience. Taxis back from an evening in town cost €25-30, enough to make that rental car look like excellent value.

Driving here feels refreshingly stress-free after the Costa Brava coast road. The N-II speeds you from Girona to Figueres, then country lanes weave through wheat fields. Sat-nav works fine, though downloading offline maps saves arguments when the signal drops.

Vilamacolum won't suit everyone. Those seeking tapas trails and nightlife should stick to Cadaqués or Begur. Families needing instant entertainment will find the lack of facilities frustrating. But for travellers wanting to slip briefly into small-town Catalan life, wake to tractor engines rather than tour buses, and use a swimming pool as their main daily activity, it delivers something increasingly precious: Spain without the performance.