Parque Dalmau
Parque Dalmau
4
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A large park in Calella with children's play areas, picnic benches, walks, an air raid shelter and good views across to the sea.
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4.0
507 reviews
Excellent
221
Very good
165
Average
89
Poor
20
Terrible
12
Stu Hall
Stoke-on-Trent, UK3 contributions
Oct 2023 • Family
We found this by accident after reading reviews on our hotel. With it being October and there is nothing open we ended up talking a 10 minute walk to this nature spot that over looks Calella and found a kids play area. Perfect little few hour time filler for the kids to enjoy. The pathway takes you all the way out into the town of Calella.
Written October 25, 2023
This review is the subjective opinion of a Tripadvisor member and not of Tripadvisor LLC. Tripadvisor performs checks on reviews as part of our industry-leading trust & safety standards. Read our transparency report to learn more.
Off their P
Manchester, UK4,043 contributions
Jul 2022 • Couples
This town is largely about the beach but this place gives it another dimension.
It isn’t the prettiest park I’ve ever seen but it’s a nice uphill walk where you walk down on the old church from above and with great views of the beach and sea.
There is some great sports facilities and some rather nice houses. We did a loop where we dropped down the other side and ended up right in the shopping district.
It isn’t the prettiest park I’ve ever seen but it’s a nice uphill walk where you walk down on the old church from above and with great views of the beach and sea.
There is some great sports facilities and some rather nice houses. We did a loop where we dropped down the other side and ended up right in the shopping district.
Written July 2, 2022
This review is the subjective opinion of a Tripadvisor member and not of Tripadvisor LLC. Tripadvisor performs checks on reviews as part of our industry-leading trust & safety standards. Read our transparency report to learn more.
pauljaygeo
Cardiff, UK23 contributions
Apr 2016 • Family
where to start i have been to calella for years and god i didnt even know this gem was there i found it on trip,it is amazing a great place for the kids,ust beware take your own loo role,none in the public ones it has the most stunning views at the top and great for the trail runner like me dont leave calella with out a visit
Written April 28, 2016
This review is the subjective opinion of a Tripadvisor member and not of Tripadvisor LLC. Tripadvisor performs checks on reviews as part of our industry-leading trust & safety standards. Read our transparency report to learn more.
Dorvic
Carnoustie, UK138 contributions
Oct 2019 • Couples
Seemed very disappointing after reading reviews and wondered if we had gone to the wrong place It was run down and can't see any point of a visit
Written October 5, 2019
This review is the subjective opinion of a Tripadvisor member and not of Tripadvisor LLC. Tripadvisor performs checks on reviews as part of our industry-leading trust & safety standards. Read our transparency report to learn more.
sheena1955
Edinburgh, UK29 contributions
Dec 2016
Calella is absolutely beautiful, when I go to the Costa Brava side of Spain I always make a point on visiting Calella.
Written November 6, 2017
This review is the subjective opinion of a Tripadvisor member and not of Tripadvisor LLC. Tripadvisor performs checks on reviews as part of our industry-leading trust & safety standards. Read our transparency report to learn more.
nufcpidge
York, UK18 contributions
May 2017 • Family
On a typically hot day in Callela, the shade of Dalmau Park comes as a welcome relief for two seemingly inexhaustible young girls and offers a relaxing break for two weary parents.
Perched at the foot of a tall hill, relatively steep in parts, the rust-coloured pathways which twist their gentle way gradually upwards, lead this small family of four on an unknown journey, an adventure off the beaten track. An early water feature, always a popular stopping point for my daughters, offers a distraction that, after the short meander from the hotel in the blazing heat of this May morning, is welcome, the squeals of delight from their, respectively, four years old and nineteen month old, mouths as they splash me, the innocent bystander, with ice-cool water. When I try to splash the wife she gives me a look that doesn't just hint that it would be an unwise move but leaves me in no doubt my life would be in peril if I made such a choice. Reluctantly, I upturn the right-handful of water, carefully collected, back into the fountain. As I take a step back, the cascading water from its upper tier spills as an overflowed beaker, the burst of water held when, lit by the sun which squints between the shade of the leaves, as if an ice sculpture. Those same trees, Gaudi-esque columns of twisting bark, reach like ballerinas, elegant monuments thinning to branches enveloped by green. Looking between gaps in those leaves, at the bright sky causes one to screw up one's eyes, even with sunglasses perched loosely on an aquiline nose as if of a Roman Emperor. Yet looking at the ground, a sand colour identical to the stone of the fountain, is like looking into a pond, the reflection of the trees above, shimmering when caught by the sunlight, the rough, small stones sitting silent, contemplating.
"Come on girls" says my wife, urging them to move on as I stare to the left of the photograph above, convinced I can see the shadowed outline of a man in the tree to the left as we move on, towards the play area. To the left along the path, a staircase momentarily tempts us, destination unknown, but the tug on the arm, the tension as the girls drag both my wife and I forwards, tells us that they, the children, the ones really in charge, have spotted something. The play area in the park forms ahead of us.
Despite sitting on a steep hill, the play area itself is perfectly flat, loose wood chippings slipping between small toes as the girls run ahead, the elder one opening the gate, held shut with a silver latch, as if on a handbag, already too clever for difficult clasps that outfox her father, holding the gate for her smaller sister and, as soon as she's through, running on ahead of her to get to the swing first. Fortunately, for those with two children, there is a swing each, a wooden fence keeping dogs away from this area, exclusively for the under fives. It is quite spacious but there are few things to play on, I can see a see-saw in the distance, in the colour of the yellow of an egg yolk. Another little girl plays with her grandmother, proud that her own toddler is managing to walk by herself, whispering encouraging words in Catalan to her own child's offspring, before switching to Spanish to address me. Apparently the child is sixteen months old, and asks my own youngest daughter's age. "Almost two" I reply in her second language. The peaceful scene is disrupted when my eldest yells into the silence of the large park.
"DINOSAUR"
She runs off in the direction of some steps, still within the enclosed play area, and mounts them quickly, her smaller sister struggling to keep up, as she stubbornly walks up, right foot forward up each step, peering upwards to glimpse this strange reptile, before issuing a low growl of her own, reminiscent of the roar she bellows at the television whenever IgglePiggle from the Night Garden, a television series she enjoys before bedtime, comes onto the screen. And as I take the stairs two at a time, I see, finally, just what has roused their excitement, enticed their young spirits, has grabbed their attention in a way I never could. A tall, green dinosaur with yellow spikes across his back, a slide spewing from his right side in a cascade. My girls simply love slides.
As my wife plonks herself on a bench, I help the youngest up the steep, wooden stairs, across the footbridge and dash down to the bottom of the slide to await her arrival, being careful to avoid the eldest who is already running her way back to the top again for a second go. Another childish yell of delight, 'weeeeeee' as the almost two year old bounds down the slide, her breathless excitement at the thrill of the fall, the securing comfort of the deep sides which she grips with her tiny hands, the knuckles turning white, the halt as she reaches the bottom, and the spring up to repeat the process again. Like our favourite songs of childhood, this track is on repeat, for the next fifteen minutes at least, as my wife catches a breather, a rare chance to unwind, safe in the knowledge that her own children are content and are looked after by me, the doting father. I glance up, the youngest can now make her way up the steep stairs, a quick-learner, and, as I stand at the foot of the slide, ahead of me, to the left, is a sign. Intrigued I ask my wife to watch the children, her moment of contemplation ruined, and I walk to the far left corner of the upper tier of this park for a closer look.
Like in a story from my own childhood, perhaps about refugees moving to the countryside, I've always been fascinated by war, not in a morbid way but in an interest that has read my writing projects to seek war zones, or discussing the Eastern Front with the male of another couple and child we met in the bar last night. And of course, I mention '78 Days', the 'live book' I'm working on. I mention 'The Ponferrada Perspective', my novel linking Ponferradina to the Spanish Civil War and I'm intrigued enough to enter the Refugi Antiaeri or air raid shelter.
The shelters of Dalmau Park were put into operation in 1937, months after the Municipal Committee, who met on 2 November 1936, decided the creation of shelters were needed to protect civilians from aerial bombardment. Three shelters were built in the city: the first on Mount Rose, the second, known as the park, here at Dalmau, and the third called La Granja. All three have a total capacity of 3,600 people, just half of the population of Calella at that time. The population was distributed among three shelters depending on which street they lived; each with three access doors for ease of entry and to avoid crowds.
The shelters were reopened in 2010 as a visitor attraction and at just one Euro to enter, they are tremendous value for anybody with an interest, such as me. Best of all, the girls were very content and as I progressed deeper into the hill, they were equally happy in their dinosaur park.
Perched at the foot of a tall hill, relatively steep in parts, the rust-coloured pathways which twist their gentle way gradually upwards, lead this small family of four on an unknown journey, an adventure off the beaten track. An early water feature, always a popular stopping point for my daughters, offers a distraction that, after the short meander from the hotel in the blazing heat of this May morning, is welcome, the squeals of delight from their, respectively, four years old and nineteen month old, mouths as they splash me, the innocent bystander, with ice-cool water. When I try to splash the wife she gives me a look that doesn't just hint that it would be an unwise move but leaves me in no doubt my life would be in peril if I made such a choice. Reluctantly, I upturn the right-handful of water, carefully collected, back into the fountain. As I take a step back, the cascading water from its upper tier spills as an overflowed beaker, the burst of water held when, lit by the sun which squints between the shade of the leaves, as if an ice sculpture. Those same trees, Gaudi-esque columns of twisting bark, reach like ballerinas, elegant monuments thinning to branches enveloped by green. Looking between gaps in those leaves, at the bright sky causes one to screw up one's eyes, even with sunglasses perched loosely on an aquiline nose as if of a Roman Emperor. Yet looking at the ground, a sand colour identical to the stone of the fountain, is like looking into a pond, the reflection of the trees above, shimmering when caught by the sunlight, the rough, small stones sitting silent, contemplating.
"Come on girls" says my wife, urging them to move on as I stare to the left of the photograph above, convinced I can see the shadowed outline of a man in the tree to the left as we move on, towards the play area. To the left along the path, a staircase momentarily tempts us, destination unknown, but the tug on the arm, the tension as the girls drag both my wife and I forwards, tells us that they, the children, the ones really in charge, have spotted something. The play area in the park forms ahead of us.
Despite sitting on a steep hill, the play area itself is perfectly flat, loose wood chippings slipping between small toes as the girls run ahead, the elder one opening the gate, held shut with a silver latch, as if on a handbag, already too clever for difficult clasps that outfox her father, holding the gate for her smaller sister and, as soon as she's through, running on ahead of her to get to the swing first. Fortunately, for those with two children, there is a swing each, a wooden fence keeping dogs away from this area, exclusively for the under fives. It is quite spacious but there are few things to play on, I can see a see-saw in the distance, in the colour of the yellow of an egg yolk. Another little girl plays with her grandmother, proud that her own toddler is managing to walk by herself, whispering encouraging words in Catalan to her own child's offspring, before switching to Spanish to address me. Apparently the child is sixteen months old, and asks my own youngest daughter's age. "Almost two" I reply in her second language. The peaceful scene is disrupted when my eldest yells into the silence of the large park.
"DINOSAUR"
She runs off in the direction of some steps, still within the enclosed play area, and mounts them quickly, her smaller sister struggling to keep up, as she stubbornly walks up, right foot forward up each step, peering upwards to glimpse this strange reptile, before issuing a low growl of her own, reminiscent of the roar she bellows at the television whenever IgglePiggle from the Night Garden, a television series she enjoys before bedtime, comes onto the screen. And as I take the stairs two at a time, I see, finally, just what has roused their excitement, enticed their young spirits, has grabbed their attention in a way I never could. A tall, green dinosaur with yellow spikes across his back, a slide spewing from his right side in a cascade. My girls simply love slides.
As my wife plonks herself on a bench, I help the youngest up the steep, wooden stairs, across the footbridge and dash down to the bottom of the slide to await her arrival, being careful to avoid the eldest who is already running her way back to the top again for a second go. Another childish yell of delight, 'weeeeeee' as the almost two year old bounds down the slide, her breathless excitement at the thrill of the fall, the securing comfort of the deep sides which she grips with her tiny hands, the knuckles turning white, the halt as she reaches the bottom, and the spring up to repeat the process again. Like our favourite songs of childhood, this track is on repeat, for the next fifteen minutes at least, as my wife catches a breather, a rare chance to unwind, safe in the knowledge that her own children are content and are looked after by me, the doting father. I glance up, the youngest can now make her way up the steep stairs, a quick-learner, and, as I stand at the foot of the slide, ahead of me, to the left, is a sign. Intrigued I ask my wife to watch the children, her moment of contemplation ruined, and I walk to the far left corner of the upper tier of this park for a closer look.
Like in a story from my own childhood, perhaps about refugees moving to the countryside, I've always been fascinated by war, not in a morbid way but in an interest that has read my writing projects to seek war zones, or discussing the Eastern Front with the male of another couple and child we met in the bar last night. And of course, I mention '78 Days', the 'live book' I'm working on. I mention 'The Ponferrada Perspective', my novel linking Ponferradina to the Spanish Civil War and I'm intrigued enough to enter the Refugi Antiaeri or air raid shelter.
The shelters of Dalmau Park were put into operation in 1937, months after the Municipal Committee, who met on 2 November 1936, decided the creation of shelters were needed to protect civilians from aerial bombardment. Three shelters were built in the city: the first on Mount Rose, the second, known as the park, here at Dalmau, and the third called La Granja. All three have a total capacity of 3,600 people, just half of the population of Calella at that time. The population was distributed among three shelters depending on which street they lived; each with three access doors for ease of entry and to avoid crowds.
The shelters were reopened in 2010 as a visitor attraction and at just one Euro to enter, they are tremendous value for anybody with an interest, such as me. Best of all, the girls were very content and as I progressed deeper into the hill, they were equally happy in their dinosaur park.
Written May 12, 2017
This review is the subjective opinion of a Tripadvisor member and not of Tripadvisor LLC. Tripadvisor performs checks on reviews as part of our industry-leading trust & safety standards. Read our transparency report to learn more.
vodkaqueen_8
Plymouth, England28 contributions
Sep 2016 • Couples
The place to be for mingling. Plenty of bars, shops and cafes. Also the local church. Sat outside the church for a while and was entertained by a folk dancing group that really got the onlookers involved.
Written September 23, 2016
This review is the subjective opinion of a Tripadvisor member and not of Tripadvisor LLC. Tripadvisor performs checks on reviews as part of our industry-leading trust & safety standards. Read our transparency report to learn more.
william g
Glasgow, UK65 contributions
Sep 2016 • Couples
very clean and well looked after its on a large hill side so not for the faint hearted gentle stroll up and you will be fine
Written September 22, 2016
This review is the subjective opinion of a Tripadvisor member and not of Tripadvisor LLC. Tripadvisor performs checks on reviews as part of our industry-leading trust & safety standards. Read our transparency report to learn more.
Roy G
Slough, UK20 contributions
Aug 2016 • Family
Went to visit Dalmau Park during my stay in Callela.....It wasn't what I expected it to be.. It was very quiet with a couple of parks for the children.....You can explore further..but the climb up is quite steep....Once you get to the top....there are lovely views of the sea.....
Probably could do a lot more inside the park to make it a worthwhile visit.
Probably could do a lot more inside the park to make it a worthwhile visit.
Written September 3, 2016
This review is the subjective opinion of a Tripadvisor member and not of Tripadvisor LLC. Tripadvisor performs checks on reviews as part of our industry-leading trust & safety standards. Read our transparency report to learn more.
Richard K
Hersham, UK11 contributions
Sep 2016 • Couples
Beautiful park to visit on a hot day, lots of shade and seats to take a break. Walk to the top for great views of the town and sea.
Written September 2, 2016
This review is the subjective opinion of a Tripadvisor member and not of Tripadvisor LLC. Tripadvisor performs checks on reviews as part of our industry-leading trust & safety standards. Read our transparency report to learn more.
Is there much to do at night time
Written June 2, 2019
I don;t think there's much happening in the park, but Calella has a few nightclubs and lots of bars and restaurants. The town council organises a lot of lots of outdoor festivals throughout the year. Check out the town's website for details.
Written June 3, 2019
How far from the calella palace please . ??
Written June 27, 2017
I think less than ten, about seven minutes. If you walk left from the hotel you can cut through the hospital car park (careful of the traffic) and up a ramp to a row of shops, the last of which is the tourist information office. Dalmau Park is just to the left after this office. It would take a little longer if you follow the main road as you have to head towards the beach first. We were in Hotel Olympic, right of Calella Palace, and that was about 12 minutes with two toddlers (children four and two) so believe less than ten is possible.
Written June 27, 2017
How far from bon repos hotel.
Written June 26, 2015
I would have thought 5 minutes - 10 minutes max. It's just along the Main Street
Written June 27, 2015
can you eat and drink in the other htop hotels and have use of pools etc
Written February 25, 2015
I don't know this service. You can ask to tourist information: write in google "walks in the dalmau parc calellabarcelona" and write them e-mail. Sorry i can't include here e-mail or website.
Written February 25, 2015
I have see reviewers from the past week saying the Hotel is insolvent and that they were moved to a hotel.
Is this the case and if so will anyone booked to stay there (we go 19th Oct) be moved or only with certain travel operators?
Written January 14, 2015
As stated above, this is a park, not a hotel
Written January 15, 2015
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