A Speedy Dali-ance (dalliance: noun: a casual romantic relationship)

Dali's wife, Gala, served as model in many of his paintings. Nice swan, too

The next morning, I walked early to the market in the center of town next to the rambla, Figuere's central public park--got lost of course, and did the grand tour of the part of town most tourists don’t see. Figueres has a wonderful open-air public market—I bought fantastic pears, figs and hazelnuts (they all grow locally), and a portion of dark red aged Serrano ham--nearly 30 euros ($43.50) a kilo, but worth every penny. I became addicted very quickly—it’s often served as a breakfast item on a super-fresh baguette, nothing else needed; it is its own butter, and I have to find a source in California. Soon.

Let there be light! My favorite Dali lamp--and so practical, too

Later, I went to the Dali Museum, the main reason for my stop in Figueres, Salvador Dali’s hometown. Though the museum—fashioned from a theater that was bombed out during Spain’s civil war—had few of the exquisitely detailed and finely drafted paintings I had seen in art collections around the world, the building held many of his drawings, sculptures, and early paintings along with a few delicately wrought jewels.

In the early afternoon, 

I began the drive on the thruway to France. Though there are plenty of two-lane roads that trace the routes of the thruways, speed limits are low, and I was anticipating a 6 1/2 – hour drive, so I toughened up and prepared to pay more than $38 in tolls between Figueres and the turn-off for Sarlat-en-Caneda in central France (over the next week, I dropped $100 in tolls). The thruways are incredibly well-maintained, nearly empty, fast (average speed, 120km/hr; about 85mph) and boring, boring, boring. But did I mention they’re fast? I had a hard time keeping up in my Volkswagen Passat. The rest stops, which are frequent and clean, usually offer a variety of questionable fully packaged food in plastic. In fact, plastic packaging was everywhere I went in both Spain and France—it made northern California look like eco-heaven.

As I got further north, The terrain became greener and hilly. I turned off the thruway to Sarlat in the last of the light; a misty rain was falling. Along the road, buildings of yellow stone stood among the fields and trees. I arrived to a very pretty old town, and a nice hotel, the Remparts.