Foixà

The lane ends at a wrought-iron gate guarded by stone griffins. Through the bars you glimpse a private castle, then nothing—just oak woods dropping towards the river Ter and, beyond it, the sea glittering 20 km away. That sudden view is Foixà’s calling card: a blink-and-you-miss-it knot of houses that delivers a widescreen payoff across the Baix Empordà plain.

A Ridge, a Church, Thirty Houses

Foixà sits at 85 m above the fields, high enough to catch the breeze but too low to brag. The old core is a five-minute shuffle: Carrer Major, Carrer de l’Església, a handful of stone arches, done. Sant Esteve’s bell tower, patched in medieval and 18-century stone, is the only thing taller than the cypresses. The building is usually open; inside, the cool smells of candle wax and river damp remind you how close the uplands of Les Gavarres still are. Walk round the back and the land falls away so sharply that swallows fly level with your shoes.

The castle itself—part Romanesque, part private home since 1907—keeps its doors shut. You are expected to peer, photograph, then retreat. Most visitors do exactly that and leave within quarter of an hour, which is a mistake. The ridge path, signed simply “camí de ronda”, threads west for 400 m to a stone cross where shepherds once prayed for rain. From here the panorama stretches from the Pyrenees to the Medes Islands, a sweep the tourist board would call “undiscovered” if anyone could work out how to monetise it.

Paths for People Who Hate Hills

Foixà is walker-friendly precisely because it is not dramatic. A 5 km loop drops to the Foixà stream, climbs gently through wheat and sunflowers, then re-enters the village past a 16th-century fortified farmhouse whose owners still keep geese in the moat. The gradients are gentle enough for trainers; the surface is now tarmac, though UK apps still show dirt—download an offline map to avoid muttering at your phone.

Cyclists use the same lanes to stitch together half-day circuits: north-east to Ullastret’s Iberian ruins (7 km), south to Peratallada’s stone arcades (9 km), west to the rice fields of Pals. None of the climbs exceed 4%; all of them end near a bar that serves ice-cold Estrella at €2.50. If you prefer company, the village marks a quiet section of the Baix Empordà green-way; mid-week you will meet more tractors than tourists, and the drivers wave.

Lunch Elsewhere, Coffee Nowhere

Foixà has zero commerce. No shop, no café, no cashpoint, no bakery. Pack water and fruit or time your outing around neighbouring villages. Ten minutes by car, La Pera has Can Xiquet, a no-frills rotisserie whose roast chicken and proper chips satisfy children who have decided Catalan food is “weird”. Sunday lunchers head to Mas Pou in Palau-sator: three courses, wine, bread and crema catalana for €22; book before you leave home because half of Girona province has the same idea.

The only edible thing you can buy in Foixà itself is wine, but only if you know the farmer. Several houses post hand-written signs: “vi de pagès, truqui”. Knock and someone’s grandfather will sell you a five-litre jerry-can of last year’s garnatxa for €8. Bring your own bottle; he won’t provide one.

When to Turn Up, When to Leave

Spring and early autumn are kindest. In April the plain is a chessboard of green wheat and blood-red poppies; by late October the stubble glows amber under harvest-light. Mid-summer is doable if you start early: the ridge gives shade until 10 a.m., after which the stone walls radiate heat and the village shutters stay firmly closed. Winter is mild—daytime 12 °C is common—but the Tramuntana wind can whip across the ridge at 50 km/h; bring a jacket even when the car thermometer looks promising.

Rain is brief but theatrical. Storms arrive from the Pyrenees, ink the plain purple, then roll out to sea within an hour. If you are caught on the path, the nearest shelter is the church porch; services are Saturday evening and Sunday morning, timing that doubles as a weather forecast.

Beds, Not Bunkers

Accommodation is scarce inside the nucleus. One three-bedroom villa with pool sits on the lane to Rupia; it books solid for school holidays and demands a car. Otherwise stay in La Pera (Hotel El Racó, family doubles from €90 with parking) or push on to medieval Peratallada where stone hotels charge boutique prices. Foixà works best as a day-trip hub: walk in the morning, drive ten minutes for lunch, siesta by the pool you booked elsewhere.

Getting There Without the Drama

Girona airport, 35 min away, receives Ryanair and Jet2 flights from Gatwick, Stansted, Bristol and Manchester. Pick up a hire car, leave the AP-7 at exit 6, follow the C-66 towards Palamós, then watch for the brown sign to Rupia. Park in Rupia’s free municipal car park and walk the final kilometre; the lane into Foixà narrows to a single car’s width and locals grow tired of reversing for lost tourists. There is no bus. A taxi from Girona costs €55—more than the weekend hire car if you book early.

The Honest Verdict

Foixà will never headline a Catalan grand tour. It offers a gate, a view, a church and silence—four assets that suit travellers who prefer their countryside without interpretive centres. Come if you want to stretch your legs between beach days, fill your lungs with something other than salt spray, and practise Catalan greetings on people who still have time to answer. Leave before you need a coffee. And remember: the best photograph is the one taken from the stone cross, phone on airplane mode, with nothing in the ear but wind and the clank of a distant tractor.