Where to Be a Pirate : Tossa de Mar, Spain

A conversation from the 12^th century:

“Ahoy! Thar-be an empty beach.

“Aye. Let’s bury our pirate treasure there!”

“Oh for hell’s sake, Smitty! Didn’t anyone see that castle to the left?! Dammit. This place is no place to hide rubies!”

Shortly after that convo (which I may or may not have recounted verbatim), everyone else in Europe showed up to tiny Tossa de Mar. The town is like a puffy, dust-colored kitten laying in a romantic slice of sunlight. Everyone just wanted to play with it.

Despite the fact that it’s far from undiscovered, Tossa de Mar is still pretty damn awesome, and splashing in the sea here or climbing around rocks to the medieval fort will definitely make you feel like a pirate.

The Lowdown:

The Earth:

The sand is coarse. More the size and color of crushed Cheerios than the typical powered-sugar stuff. Is this a bonus? Well … I mean … yeah. Sand is great and all to look at, but it’s a real bitch to get off your stuff. You can toss(a) your camera and your iPhone right into a pile of it here. No problemo!

The View:

The Euro-trash geriatrics love to sunbath topless here. Topless grandmas always make me smile. Whip ‘em out, Doris!

The Real View:

The beach gets pretty crowded, but the water is a beautiful, deep shade of emerald that fades into blue and the bookending cliffs, whose scrubby trees and jagged edges give it a certain long-ago romance. There are fishing boats tied on the sand, painted in bright colors and bearing names like Maria and Sophia and various other sexy, Spanish senorita appellations.

As for the town, it’s sun-bleached, stone buildings with terra cotta roofs, colorful awnings over open-air cafes and cobblestone back alleys, hiding vacation bars. You know the type. They are usually named The Barnacle or the One Eyed Parrot. They serve Mojitos and Caipirinhas, always half off.  You remember them fondly. Or … even better yet … you don’t.

The Price:

The deals in Tossa de Mar are sweeter than Spanish figs. This past September – during the high season – I landed a room with a balcony and a private bathroom at the Hostal Mediterraneo for 25 Euros a night. It was a two-minute walk to the seashore, and the staff was incredibly friendly and helpful.

The Schlep:

It’s an hour from Girona or a little over an hour from Barcelona. If you head here from Girona, there’s a bus almost every hour for 10 Euros. Warning: For some reason, there are not buses back nearly every hour. More like 2 or 3 per day. Make sure to figure it out before the day you need to depart. I got stuck and had to transfer to another town in order to get back to Girona.