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The thinking person’s alternative to the French Riviera

In France’s “Deep South”, a Catalan territory known as “Roussillon”, the Pyrenees end abruptly at the Mediterranean, creating cliffs and creeks, corniches, valleys and slopes so steep that vineyards are vertical. The region accounts itself extreme, fierce of sun, colour and temperament, given to the playing of rugby, the eating of anchovies and the cultivation of moustaches.

Starting point Perpignan – like a spruce reformed drunk – is a revelation: shaved, articulate and shiny of complexion. Not long ago, the town wore an air of mild desperation. It over-relied, too, on Salvador Dali’s claim that Perpignan station was the centre of the universe. (It isn’t. It isn’t even the centre of Perpignan but a long slog out to a banal spot.)

Our group took the Petit Train de Perpignan and we were glad we did.  It’s a simple way to see everything and it can get you down the tiny pedestrian streets.  We didn’t get a chance to eat there, but our waiter (?!!) at another restaurant near to the Castle recommended.  I will try it next time.  From the reviews, it’s where the local French go to eat which explains our waiter recommending it!