Banyuls is the end of the line, the last French town before the border runs up over the hills into Spain. It is best known for its sweet fortified wine, but it is a fishing town too, and the two things sit right on top of each other along the front.
The boats are the pull. Traditional Catalan barques hauled up on the gravel by an old cellar, their paint worn back to the grain, still carrying their BA registration numbers from the local port. Beside them a winery chimney stands over the arched sheds, the wine and the sea sharing the same yard.
I finished on a quiet cove down the coast, umbrella pines on the point, the water gone calm. Base ISO the whole way, morning and evening both kind. A good, unhurried last stop before turning inland.