The hostel owners served us a dinner of fried sardines and red wine on the rooftop terrace one evening. The terrace provides an exquisite view of the castle, the beach, the surrounding tree-covered mountains as well as the other eclectic rooftops. I spent hours and hours there napping, reading and of course socializing over a glass of red wine. I would have slept there if they would have let me.
After the sardine dinner, a group from the hostel converged at the Pirate Bar by the castle. It's a really seedy, gross place and the waiter smells like pot. But the sangria is ok. I could not remember names and even TK tags everyone according to their country of origin. She would refer to "the Argentinian," "the Dutch girls," "the Snorer" (the Spanish guy in her room who keeps her awake) or "that French bloke." After the Pirate Bar we all went to a discoteca that promised free shots. We arrived to an empty bar except for one really, really weird guy, who of course immediately starts hitting on me. So I told "the snorer" that he was now my boyfriend. After fiercely ignoring a few more incomprehensible comments from the weirdo, finally my "boyfriend" told him to buzz off. So we danced to Spanish disco music until "the Argentinian" decided to play DJ and kept putting on really bad dance music, forcing us to leave for another discoteca. The new joint charged a cover. It was loud and packed. TK and I decided to head home. It was 2 a.m. and we felt sort of old and wanted to let the kids have fun sans matronly chaperones. The kids came home around 5 a.m. A pickpocket in the crowded club had snagged the snorer's wallet and passport.
“The German Bloke" entertained TK and I with his testosterone-infused antics. At the Pirate Bar by the castle he strutted as the Alpha Male with his own harem of four to six women, dominating the conversation with his wild stories and pathetic jokes. Then suddenly "the Dutch brothers" showed up and he had a fight on his hands to maintain the attention of all the girls. TK woke in the middle of the night to use the loo and found one of the Dutch girls servicing one of the Dutch brothers in the Ladies showers. Or were the girls Australian? I cannot keep all these nationalities straight. So the next night the German Bloke was on his own, trying to seduce us into sharing our dinner with him. I told him to pitch in with a bottle of wine and he promptly left and bought himself a sandwich. The next morning, the German Bloke came down for breakfast in a shirt that read, and I am not making this up, "I AM AWESOME."
In the meantime, TK and I had discovered the most amazing chocolate postre, deep fried dough served with little cups of melted chocolate. Pure ecstasy.
TK discovered another Brit at the hostel, Jane from Bristol. We all agreed on the glass bottom boat tour as it taxis up the coast to drop you off at another beach with scheduled pickups later in the day. However the weather turned cooler and cloudy with a forecast of rain. We decided to stay in town. We finally made it to the beach well past 1 p.m. That night I moved to a different room that I prayed would be quieter. I love Mana Mana Hostel except for the church next door that rings its bells every hour between 9 a.m. and midnight. The midnight bell didn't bother me too much as I was usually awake or out on the town, but 9 a.m., really? Of course when I'm napping on the terrace it's disturbing as well. When it's time for mass, they ring the bells like mad. I'm planning to read The Hunchback of Notre Dame while on my trip, which no doubt will prove enlightening.
The next day the three of us made it onto the glass bottom boat tour up the northern Costa Brava, but the weather remained overcast and cool. The sunless skies and dip in temperature didn't bother me as it was still warmer than my California beach trips in July prior to leaving for Spain. It also deterred the crowds.
After Jane and I sadly delivered TK to the Barcelona bus to prepare for my arrival the following day, we went to a seaside restaurant for steamed mussels and a bottle of wine, followed by the chocolate deep-fried dough concoction. If I were to write a book about my trip, it would be "Eat, Drink, Eat, then Eat Chocolate!" Fortunately my bikini stretches.
I headed to Barcelona via bus. TK wanted me there early so we could have more fun together, but I warned her that I would sleep in and planned to meet her for lunch around 2 p.m. We booked into My Bed Hostel, only 13 euros a night for a 6-bed room. We were both sorry Jane couldn't join us as she returned to England.
I absolutely LOVED Tossa de Mar and recommend it highly, especially the Mana Mana Hostel where we stayed, which is a very inexpensive but wonderful way to experience the gorgeous clear waters of Costa Brava!