Chopin’s miserable winter of 1838 in a Carthusian cell, and then the prettiest twenty kilometres of road in Spain. Then push on to Deià and Son Marroig for the half-past-three opening, when the sun is low on Sa Foradada.
Chopin’s miserable winter of 1838 in a Carthusian cell, and then the prettiest twenty kilometres of road in Spain. Then push on to Deià and Son Marroig for the half-past-three opening, when the sun is low on Sa Foradada.