Begur is Beguiling

Well hello, Begur. (Catalonia) (pronounced buh-gor) – a place I hadn’t planned on loving but somehow fell completely for the moment we arrived. Perched along the legendary Camí de Ronda trail and wrapped in lush greenery, Begur feels like someone mixed coastal calm with a quiet kind of magic. Every street had that soft, sun-washed look I love, and every corner revealed another charming detail — usually a door worth photographing. (I collect door photos, and this town did not disappoint.)

We only visited for the day, but within an hour I found myself thinking, I could live here. There’s something about Begur that settles into you instantly — the cliffs, the winding hills, the pale houses, and that impossibly beautiful stretch of coast that rivals Sydney’s beaches. It all feels serene, warm, and inviting in a way I didn’t expect.

Begur at a Glance

Walking through Begur felt a little like being back in Sydney, and I wasn’t expecting that at all. The sheer amount of greenery, the clear blue water, the hills dotted with quaint little houses, and the postcard-perfect beach at Sa Tuna — it all felt wonderfully familiar.

And knowing that Begur sits along the Camí de Ronda, that coastal path that wraps around some of the most stunning parts of the Costa Brava, made the whole place feel even more special. There’s something about towns connected by beautiful walks that makes them feel instantly loved-in.

And because wandering is basically a sport for me, I naturally drifted into one of my quieter travel rituals: taking photos of doors. I don’t know what it is about them — the colors, the chips, the character — but I can never resist. Begur delivered in full. Every corner had another door that felt like its own tiny piece of art. Terracotta frames, soft blues, sun-faded greens… if doors could talk, the ones in Begur would have better stories than all of us combined.

Time to Indulge

After exploring the town, we ended up at a small, incredibly welcoming German restaurant called La Escalopa, run by a husband-and-wife team of German expats who’ve lived in Begur for twenty years. Cati, who owns the restaurant with her husband, was one of the sweetest people we’ve met on our travels so far.

Bob had himself a traditional German beer, and I couldn’t resist the Jägerschnitzel — with a little cava on the side, because when in Spain, why not? The flavors were absolutely authentic (I say this as someone who’s half Austrian), and the whole experience felt like stumbling onto a secret comfort spot hidden in the middle of Catalonia.

We told Cati how much we loved Begur, and she smiled in that way people do when they know a place has changed them too. You could tell this town means something to her — and by the end of lunch, it meant something to me too.

There’s something quietly enchanting about Begur. It’s not loud. It’s not trying to be anything. It just is — lush, warm, welcoming, and unbelievably beautiful.

We were only there for a day, but I left thinking,
I could live here.
And honestly… I hope someday we do.

My modest photos of the Streets in Begur

Traveling — it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller

Ibn Battuta