La Cellera De Ter

The 09:15 bus from Girona drops just three passengers at the edge of La Cellera de Ter. One straps a helmet on, wheels a muddy mountain bike from the hold and pedals straight past the closed bakery. The other two head for the river path, walking boots already dusted with red earth. Nobody stops to photograph the church. This is a place for doing, not ticking boxes.

At 166 m above sea-level the village sits low enough for almond trees to survive yet high enough for nights to cool. Frost can nip in March; August humidity lingers at 24 °C after midnight. The difference matters if you’ve booked a stone cottage expecting Pyrenean freshness. Bring a fan, or better still, plan for April–June or late September when the air is clear and the stone terraces still warm from the sun.

A parish that once was a fortress

Sant Martí church rises from a raised plaça that used to be the village stronghold—cellera is medieval Catalan for the walled space around a sanctuary. What you see today is mostly 18th-century rebuilding over Romanesque bones: a squat tower, a doorway framed by weather-worn scrolls, interior walls painted the colour of pale tobacco. Doors open at 10:00, close at 19:00, cost nothing. Expect village notices rather than baroque glitz; the attraction is the silence and the view down Carrer Major where laundry flaps above stone arcades blackened by rain.

Below the church the river Ter glides wide and slow, a relief after the steep gorges upstream. A five-minute stroll brings you to the old railway bridge, now part of the green-way that links Girona to Olot. The trackbed is tarmacked, gradient capped at two percent—perfect for family bikes or anyone who’s forgotten how hilly Catalonia can be. Turn left and you reach Amer in 40 minutes; turn right and the surface climbs gently towards volcanic Garrotxa, oak woods closing in like a green tunnel. Bike hire is available in Girona (25 min by car) or Olot; deliver-to-door services will leave hybrids at your accommodation for €20 a day if you ask 24 h ahead.

Lunch at pavement tables, prices from 2005

Bar Quer occupies a corner house whose shutters are painted the same amber as the beer taps inside. The menú del dia—three courses, carafe of house red, half a loaf of pa de pagès—runs to €14 mid-week, €16 at weekends. Start with escudella, the thick meat-and-pasta broth, then choose grilled chicken or botifarra sausage with white beans. Pudding is either crema catalana or a slice of supermarket cake; nobody apologises, and locals mop the bowl with bread. Service starts at 13:15 sharp; arrive at 15:30 and the kitchen is closing.

Across the square Casapris offers a lighter, modern take: squid-ink croquettes, aubergine chips drizzled with honey. Staff speak enough English to explain dishes and will grill plain fish for children who won’t touch paprika. Expect €22–25 a head with wine, still half what you’d pay on the Costa coast.

River swims and industrial ruins

The municipal pool is only open July–August and fills fast with shrieking nine-year-olds. Better to walk ten minutes downstream to the passarel·la, a wooden footbridge where the Ter scoops out a natural basin. Local mothers gather after 17:00 when the sun slips behind poplars; they bring inflatable crocodiles and cool boxes of Estrella. Water shoes help—pebbles shift underfoot and the entry is stony. In drought years July flow can drop to a trickle; check with the bakery whether swimming is “guay” or “massa baix”.

If you’d rather keep moving, follow the signed path to the old coal mines. The Mines de Carbó worked from 1865 until 1958, tunnelling into the hillside for low-grade lignite. Today you see stone portals bricked up, rail tracks swallowed by brambles, a rusted compressor the size of a Mini. Interpretation is minimal—one weather-beaten panel in Catalan—so download a translation app before you set off. The loop takes 90 minutes, gains 140 m of height and finishes back at the river opposite a picnic table carved from a single beam.

When the shops shut, the village belongs to dog-walkers

Siesta still rules. Butcher, bakery, small grocery: all roll metal grilles down at 14:00. The bakery reopens at 17:00 selling coques—rectangular breads topped with sugar and cream, or roasted peppers—best eaten within the hour. There is no cash machine in the village; the nearest sits outside a petrol station 6 km away in Amer. Cards are refused in half the bars, so stuff euros in your pocket before the bus leaves Girona.

Sunday offers a pocket-sized market: two fruit stalls, one cheese van, a couple selling lettuces from the back of a Transit. Traders pack up before 13:00; by 13:30 the plaça is empty except for pigeons and a teenager practising kick-flips.

Walking without the Pyrenean thigh-burn

La Cellera marks the soft southern edge of the Guilleries massif. Paths strike north through holm-oak and abandoned olive terraces, gradients civilised rather than savage. A popular half-day route follows the GR-178 to Osor, 10 km away, climbing 300 m along a ridge scented with thyme and wild fennel. Osor’s café does cold beer and a plate of patatas bravas for €4; buses back to Girona run twice daily, so you can ditch the circular leg if legs protest.

Spring brings meadows freckled with orchids; autumn smells of damp mushroom and wood smoke. Mid-summer hikes demand an early start—thermometers touch 34 °C by noon—and carry more water than you think; stone fountains marked on old maps often run dry.

August crowds, January quiet

The village swells in the fortnight surrounding 15 August when fiesta programmes paste every lamppost. Brass bands march at 02:00, teenagers set off firecrackers, balconies drip with bunting. Accommodation within the old centre doubles in price; if you want sleep, book a rural house on the outskirts or come another week.

January is the mirror image. Fog pools in the valley, the green-way echoes with solitary cyclists, and Bar Quer shortens its hours. Many weekend cottages stand shuttered; you’ll share the riverbank only with a retired man in wellies training his spaniel. Days are crisp, 12 °C at midday, perfect for brisk walks rewarded by hot chocolate back in the bar while the owner burns prunings in the open hearth.

Getting here, getting away

Girona airport is 35 min by car on the C-25; Barcelona in just over an hour if traffic behaves. Car hire unlocks the hinterland, but public transport is doable: Teisa buses leave Girona bus station at 08:00 and 18:00, fare €3.85, journey 35 min. Trains stopped in 1979; the station is now the green-way information point with free parking, toilets and a map board that someone keeps updated with felt-tip pen.

La Cellera will never feature on a “Top Ten Prettiest Catalan Villages” list, and locals prefer it that way. It offers instead a slice of working rural life: river swims, €14 lunches, tyre-black lanes where the loudest noise is a bicycle freewheel. Arrive with modest expectations, a handful of cash and shoes that can handle both cobbles and mud, and the Ter valley will reward you with the sort of slow-motion day planners back home keep promising but rarely deliver.