July 2020. Unexpected journey.

Hi. Long time since I have put up a blog entry so I thought I would include this brief article I completed a couple of days ago for the local Salisbury Quaker meeting monthly newsletter. They had requested articles on what Friends had been doing during July.

Pre-amble; - my last blog saw me arrive back to UK where I quickly settled into lockdown out front of my brothers house. I had electric, water & easy access to a manhole cover for my black water (moho term for unmentionables) I was sorted & quickly settled into a mixture of lockdown, chatting to my bro through his window as he was classed as vulnerable too, & ordering up & repairing my front grille & passenger side mirror assembly both of which had been stitched up with Gaffer tape & Cable ties since my Portuguese adventures.

I even, when contacted by the hospital, delayed my 'blood test' & subsequent Oncology phone consultation for a fortnight as I did not particularly want to enter the local hospital at what was then peak Covid19 time. I had no worries in that area anyway as my Dec 2019 bloods had all been normal & if anything I was even healthier than back then

Hmmmm! Read on.
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July's unexpected journey.

My July started early. June the 4th to be exact and it was as I listened with growing dismay, plus a big chunk of denial, to my Oncologist who was supposed, via this phone consultation, to be confirming that my blood levels were normal. I was fit and healthy and this was after all a routine after cancer call in the NHS 5year cancer follow up program.

"I'm afraid there are anomalies in your blood count".

"Whaat; nooo; this cannot be happening, not again, not so soon after my Oesophagael cancer journey".

Of course my consultant was right and it was true. Once again the journey through initial shock, denial, lamentation and despair commenced. A couple of weeks of free fall ensued before sense, grip, humour and faith kicked in with a bumpy parachute landing upon the ground of reality.

'if I choose to like or dislike,
that is the disease (dis-ease) of the mind.
If I do I lose the hidden meaning
and peace of mind is needlessly disturbed'.
(Seng San; The great way)

My July holiday in Southampton General Hospital for removal of a single tumour via liver re-section commenced on July 8th just as England as a whole started to relax Covid19 restrictions.

There ensued Irony as with sore and aching body plus opiod pain relief affected mind I gazed out of my high in the sky surgical ward window down onto redundant and empty Cruise liners unable to fulfil their role of giving people real holidays.

Any journey through the NHS labyrinth is a humbling journey as you are flung, haphazardly it seems at times, down corridor after corridor of professionalism, medical non understanding & not knowing to an eventual form of wellness or not.

On my NHS travels I have found that there is one common denominator met at every twist and turn of this corridored labrynth. Compassion. Compassion with its many ingredients. Patience, kindness, a gentle touch, listening, professionalism, and of course humour.

I have witnessed even the most difficult of patients doggedly cared for with that same compassion. I commented to one nurse as her team once again tried best they could to carry out a procedure on a scared and frightened patient whose fear was erupting in verbal and physical abuse.

I asked. "How do you manage that calm and measured approach in the face of such verbal and physical obstinacy?"

"I don't know what trauma that person has faced in the past". Was her reply.

I was in a super clean Surgical recovery ward in a hospital with its own history of MRSA problems and we were in the middle of a Covid19 pandemic. All staff were having to deal with even more fearful patients who were not able to receive the normal support and love of family visits due to Covid19 restrictions.

Did I see a drop in that level of compassionate professiolism?

No. I did not.

If anything I felt an increase right from the level of the early morning green jacketed cleaners through the beige jacketed catering staff to nurses of all levels and right up to my own surgeon freely admitting to the fact that when he was in for his own surgery he ordered M&S food rather than face the hospitals own offering. Admittedly; that food offering was not Cordon Bleau, but it was tolerable. Especially when served to you with cheerful words and a willingness to meet with 'off menu' requirements if it was within their scope.

I'm fortunate in having a robustness of body that soon had me out and about on little excursions around the vast hospital complex. One of my finds was the beautiful and peaceful multi faith Chapel with its sun kissed 1993 bronze artwork by artist 'Mani Brett' . I joined in with Quaker worship within its cavernous and empty peace and quiet for as long as I was able to on the Sunday morning. I visited most days and noted the regular use by staff and patients of, in particular, the Muslim and Christian side rooms.

So all in all this was a journey I didn't want, didn't expect, but had to begrudgingly accept. God's will. The great way. The road less travelled. Universal mischief. Call it what you like it does not matter as for me it has been, and still is (July has a long way to go yet) one more humbling learning experience granted to me and tailored exactly to my fit on this wobbly roundabout with no way out called life.

I end with another verse, this time modified by me, from 

'The Great Way' by Seng San.

'The way is round and perfect
Like a vast space that contains everything
but which never ever overflows.
It is only when I take or reject
that I lose the means to know
It's unbelievable and infinite creative magnitude'.

Corona Blog.

                        Penny Sue.

 A virtually empty reservoir near to Alcoutim.

Rap3 + companion viewed from atop Castelo Velho.


1st pt - 19 March.

Portugal, so far, is being kind to me wild-camping, as I am, in their country. Rap3 (my Moho) is snug and level on a public area which in normal times would be the parking area for people who are visiting 'Castle Velho'. This deserted and ruined castle, more a Fort really, is fully visible through my viewing window, or, to put it more precisely, my front windscreen. It was originally built to overlook and defend the visible stretch of the 'Ri (River) Guadiana' which happens to be the border between Portugal and Spain. Alcoutim, the village just below, eventually built a replacement Fort as border rivalry and smuggling decreased.

One thing I am enjoying during this Covid-19 crisis and my self imposed isolation is to sit up at the old Fort with my binoculars and survey both the Spanish and Portuguese village and river life laid out below me. Not that there is a lot of it. This a quiet backwater in normal times. In these lock down times visible life is virtually absent. The Maritime police were out on the river yesterday and I think, judging by the number of boats that have now left, moved on any that did not have either Spanish or Portuguese residency.

My fear is that the GNR (Portugals police) will do the same to me. No sign of it so far and the recent emergency measures announced by the Portuguese president did announce stringent travel restrictions but did not go as far as the Spanish who are chucking out all non residents who have to leave promptly.
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2nd pt - 29 March.

I'm now on an  'Aire de service' on a French Peage (toll Mway) between Bordeaux & La Rochelle. The GNR never did turn up at 'Alcoutim' but I was getting increasingly anxious about the overall and rapidly developing Covid-19 situation.

Portugal eventually locked down as severely as Spain and I would have needed a private place to site Rap3 if I stayed for the duration. Not impossible but then I checked my travel holiday/health insurance and they said; -

"Foreign Office advice is to return to the UK. If you do other than that you will not be insured".

So here I am slowly heading back to UK. I say slowly as I see movable or nomadic lockdown/isolation on Spanish and French motorways as preferable, for the moment, to static lockdown in the UK in front of my brothers house.

Mind you I am going to have to leave the motorway tomorrow or the next day as food, in particular fruit n veg, are now virtually all gone. Half a cabbage and one green pepper that has seen better days are all that is rattling around in my fridge's veg tray.

I'm still not sure I've made the right decision as Portugal, as far as Covid-19 goes, is one of the safest places to be, having locked down early and quickly got control of the spread. Whereas it seems from all the news I am reading that I am headed into a much worse scenario. I was however; also worried about being stuck in Portugal as the really hot weather developed in June/July. I'm not good once the temperature starts to head above thirty degrees. Especially with my modified post Oesophagal body.

I am good and healthy right now though and hopefully if I continue my isolation I will stay that way. Mind you if anybody had witnessed me about an hour ago I'm sure they would have alerted the Coronavirus Swat Squad. I had an Oesophagael dumping incident, which, with this re-modelled stomach of mine, is a regular and manageable occurrence. This time though it coincided with one of my, also normal, allergic sneezing bouts. I won't say anymore. I'm sure you are all very capable of visualising the rest. All well now though but glad no one else was around to hear the strange noises emanating from the rear left hand corner of Rap3.

Actually it's quite peaceful tonight. I can hear the lorries thundering by on the motorway but apart from them no other vehicles as the whole country is on lockdown. But, unusually, there are no refrigerated lorries, overnighting on this 'Aire de service'. For once I won't need my earplugs to block out the sound of the noisy motorised refrigeration units which once the lorry engine is turned off kick in with their own seemingly even noisier motor.

Hah! Having just written that, and right on cue, there is a Spanish one just pulled in. Thankfully he is a couple of bays down so not too noisy.
...........
March 30.

Guess I'm rehearsing for full lockdown now as I slow this journey down in order I extend, for as long as possible, this travelling lockdown. At present I still see this as a slightly preferable option than the strict static lockdown in Rap3 I'm going to have to adhere to when parked up at my brothers house. He is highly vulnerable and even though I've been isolated for 3 weeks now I would not dare risk entering the house for another 2 weeks. I guess Rap3 and myself are going to become even more intimate now. I am going to miss that lovely upstairs shower though. I'll have it as my goal to look forward to.

The weather here in Western France has turned bitter. There were flurry of snow as I left my lunchtime Aire but thankfully the sun soon appeared again and is welcome, warming as it does through Rap3's many windows. This despite the strong, freezing, and buffeting wind. However; once that sun drops below the horizon its all hands on deck to close up window blinds and pull round the front curtain in order to conserve any warmth for another half hour before the heating has to be fired up. Once that is on I'm soon toasty warm and deep into my latest Quantum consciousness exploration book. Did I hear a groan?

UK probably at the weekend then. if, that is, I can slow my journey down enough. Stay safe everyone and let us all aim to come through this in good health.

Coronavirus... What the...?

On I go with my next Blog. A Quantum leap from my last Blog perhaps? Well not a lot has changed but there again everything has changed as it always does. That is the one certainty in life, the one thing I do know for sure. Nothing ever stays the same. Life is largely a choice between trying to keep things stable and OK or, accepting change and all the connotations that accompany it. That goes for both external and internal circumstances. My own internal, mental, existential, quantum changes have continued but that subject was covered in my last blog so I'll leave it there but with difficulty as of course 'outside' change is only a reflection, or a mirroring back of 'inside' change.

I'm still in Portugal, Algarve, and right at this moment on a quiet wild spot just below the ruins of an old Fort above the village of Alcoutim. I can see the 'Ri Guadiana' below and across to the opposite bank and the Spanish village of 'San Lucar de Guadiana'. Strung out along the river lie 'the boaters'. This is a community of like minded people from all nationalities who choose to live on the water. The boats are mostly full ocean goers though and when you factor in the Motorhome/van dwellers it renders a large part of this 'local' community as vagrant or temporary.

Roy was a boater and had been for many years before, and only recently, selling his boat and moving into a small house locally. 

"Well why on earth would I want to go back to the UK." 

he stated, as he wielded spanner & pliars to fix a much smaller sailboat which he will use for pleasure and to visit the many boater friends he has up and down the river. All I'm saying is this area around Alcoutim has also got me thinking similar thoughts. 

Prior to my present location I have been with Lenny and Win, my good friends from Spain. We've all spent a great few days together on the coast near 'Portimao' and the classic 'eroding cliff' Algarvian picture postcard beaches and cliffs. 

They also introduced to me 'Rumikub'. Happy evenings were spent as we each grappled with this intriguing numbers game with, I have to say, increasingly fierce competition as skill increased around the numerous complexities allowed within the rules. A fascinating little game.

Right now I'm back at the coast at 'Vilamoura', a large, wealthy golfing resort and swanky marina. My x sis in law is here at the apartment she owns with her husband. She is here on her own to supervise the 'less than efficient' builder whose supposedly re-doing the guest bedroom shower. Meanwhile hubby, back in the UK, is equally in the thick of it project managing the re-furbishment of their Barnet, N London home.

It's pleasant to have a few days of plugged in electricity as it relieves the pressure on my gas/electric fridge. This has already cost me a new gas jet plus loss of the freezer contents. Over the years though I've become somewhat of a fridge expert on these complicated three way motorhome absorption models. The trouble with them is in very hot weather they struggle, especially when running on gas for long periods which, because I mainly wild-camp, is precisely what I do. Oh well; new gas jet is now fitted and new supply of fish fingers are nicely frozen and await the mashed spuds, peas and maybe even some parsley sauce. 

The stay here has also given me time to carry out a respectable gaffer tape and cable tie repair to my 'passenger side' wing mirror. This was smashed to smithereens by a Range Rover travelling in the opposite direction, who, according to Lenny and Win, directly behind me in their moho, swerved toward me for whatever reason, perhaps a momentary loss of concentration or suchlike. Thankfully the electric wires hung onto enough of the smashed bits enabling a running repair at the roadside which now, even though I say it myself, has turned into a rather OK looking and respectable enough repair, courtesy some spares I carry for just such an eventuality, to continue my travels and get me back to the UK.

13/3/2020 

Guess that's me gonna be staying Portugal a while longer as Spain is rapidly shutting down due to Coronavirus increasing its foothold. I'm taking my xsis in law to Faro airport tomorrow for her flight back to the UK. Gonna then top myself up with Gas and diesel & head out to Portugal's interior for a while. Its empty, wild, at present warm and sunny and I reckon as good a place as any to isolate myself for a while.

Plus; and what a plus this is, I've just downloaded two more books to my Kindle on my favourite theme. Yup, you've guessed, Quantum themes. If I am gifted survival from this virus and emerge from the Portuguese bushlands sane and healthy I'll tell you all about it..... lol, lol.

Love to all and wishing good health, humour and copeable anxiety and worry over the next few weeks.

Sexy Quantum Breakdown.

Warning. This is long-ish as I have time on my hands (you'll see why as you read on) plus is the 'Quantum' that I alluded to in my last blog.

Beware.... lol
.......

I'm fascinated by the latest 'Quantum' science which is turning much of what we, and scientists thought we knew about anything and everything upside down and topsy Turvey.

'Quantum Entanglement' is right there at the very cutting edge and if I'm reading it right (you are invited to laugh at this point readers.) it seems that at every moment of every day we are all affected by, and interacting with, squillions of entangled quantum particles.

The theory and the un-understandable squiggly equations of the mathematicians are telling us so; but the fundamental nature of 'Quantum world' is the very stuff of thinking itself. This creates difficulties around designing and carrying out experiments or trials in order to get hard scientific proof of what is actually going on. You can't do an experiment if by just thinking about it the intricate boundaries and balances of the experiment itself keep changing.

As I see it, where we are at right now is that just about everything science has told us, or taught us, to believe in as 'absolute fact' is back in the multi discipline scientific boiling pot of spooky quantum stew. This re-evaluation by the many scientific disciplines, of all 'known stuff', includes seriously, and scientifically looking into areas such as coincidence, para-normal, clairvoyance, spooky etc etc.

There has been, and is, a lot of excellent science with first class peer reviews in prestigious journals already done in this area.

'Psi' (Psychic experience) research will however; always be an area that has to work ten times harder than conventional science to get solid, verifiable and repeatable evidence accepted into the harsh academic domain of skeptical conventional or traditional science.

This is simply down to the fact of human conditioning around anything spooky, religious or smacking of pseudo science. Or indeed anything that fundamentally challenges our long held understanding or status quo. We all of us become skeptics very quickly when, for example, listening to someone tell a tall story while insisting: "It's true, it really did happen, I'm not kidding you on." For every solid scientist working in this 'Psi' field there are three times as many learned skeptical scientific critics.

My interest is sparked by the crossover of today's available scientific research and my own various and, so say, unexplainable happenings throughout my life. Not bad or particularly spooky experiences but just regular unexplainable happenings some of which are so common I rely on them and, as the other day, laugh at them and their mischief. Others fall into the realm of 'senior moments' or just a plain old self accusation of: 'How could I be so stupid'.

Now; entangled quantum particles are funny little things. There are lots of them in each of our cells and they are always intimately and instantaneously connected with a mate somewhere out there in the twitchy quantum space and time world that I, and I suspect others too, just cannot get our heads around. But for now let's just say this mate out there in quantum Land can pull strings. Those strings in turn literally twitch my daily reality moment by moment as I think, either consciously or unconsciously. This moment by moment thinking by me gets my resident entangled particles and his or her mates to chat and act.

Oh! One other thing about our quantum particle and his/her entangled mate. They are opposite. If I think '1' then entangled mate will instantaneously pull string number '0'. I think '0' and entangled mate pulls string labelled '1'. This is different to my smart phone or computer. If I press '1' then '1' comes up on the screen. So the computer screen I am looking at roughly, bar the odd mistake, reflects what is in my mind. This is not quite how it happens in the quirky quantum world of my daily reality.

My Motorhome, Rap3, is merrily spinning along the minor roads of Galicia, North West Spain. We've just left the very pleasant city of 'Ponte vedra' to toddle round the coast on my slow Southwards wandering journey. In my mind is 'Repsol fuel garage' for no specific reason other than I like to be consistent with the fuel I feed to Rap3. Normally they are everywhere, I am always passing them. But remember, I had this thought already in my mind so my resident quantum entanglers were sending out the message to their mates out there in quantum Universe. Yup: you've guessed. Not one 'Repsol' fuel stop appeared. My entanglers mates were of course twitching the strings of the universe in different 'quirky' and somewhat opposite directions. I passed plenty of fuel stations, just not 'Repsol' ones.

The situation was not at all urgent. In fact I remember chuckling at the situation as for me it really is a very common recurring mischievous theme or happening or call it what you like. What you want appears abundantly until that is, you actually really do want it and start concentrating on finding it. Then, whatever it is disappears.

The day continued and was a pleasant one. Lunchtime arrived as I pulled into 'Boira's' fishing port car park. All thoughts of fuel stops were now of course out of my mind. I step outside for a pleasant walk around this busy little coastal town. Not ten paces had passed before I espied just around the corner: yup! You've guessed it again. A 'Repsol' fuel station. Again I chuckled at the shenanagins of my quantum particle residents plus mates and their ability to mischievously tug at my daily, moment by moment world.

There is also, at least there is in my world or reality, a more serious side to this 'Quantum affect'. That's where I'm at right now. The balancing up, the swinging back of the pendulum, the sending out of too many quantum particle '1's or too many' 0's rather than a good balance. Unfortunately that is another simple fact of human nature. If we're in a good place, we want to stay there. If we're in a bad place we want out immediately.

This years trip, as attested to in my previous blog, was going well. Very well in fact. I have been very much at peace with myself, Rap3 has been on best behaviour and All in all Universe seemed to be looking after me ok. Even though this year I am without my beloved little canine friend Tanya.
 

As I strolled leisurely along the sandy beach watching rollers surfing in with whitecaps breaking and being peeled off by the offshore wind I thanked Universe for her benignity. I stopped still and quiet for a few moments before continuing my walk along this part of Portugals beautiful Atlantic beach at 'Apulia'. My walk was  a return one to 'Ramalha' beach car park where Rap3 was safely parked up.

There was an almost imperceptible disturbance though, at the back, way, way back, of the mind. I dropped something and noted I got unusually agitated. Later there was a very rowdy couple right behind Rap3 having their own way with the Universe. There's was definitely a 'f***ing ecstatic one! This uninvited external eroticism soon calmed down, as it does (lol) and a good nights sleep was enjoyed.

Next morning too, all was good and as I busied myself preparing to leave I mentally noted the short but sturdy and erect marker posts in front of Rap3.

"Must reverse out" I thought.

Half an hour later I turned the key, started up Rap3 and drove forward straight into the marker posts. Crunch, graunch and brown radiator water pouring out from underneath.

"F***ing hell Steve what have you done!"

In that instant and in particular with my use of the 'f' word it hit me. Quantum Entanglement and the conundrum of opposites.

Last night normal, ecstatic and noisy outside and at the rear of Rap3 with me having nothing whatsoever to do with the goings on apart from hearing them. Whereas this morning, even though consciously I had made sure I was fully aware of a potential hazard it was full on 'Steve is getting f***ed up' at the front of Rap3 with accompanying noises, movement, shock and horror and me 100% fully involved. Pretty well the opposite of ecstacy.

The previous nights external ecstacy also concluded with a driving away from the scene of action, which I never heard as presumably I had fallen asleep. I also was not about to hear any driving away from the present set of circumstances either. With a busted radiator there was only going to be one exit from my dilemma and that was going to be on the back of a breakdown truck.

Time has moved on and right now I'm staring out of a hotel window onto the damp, grey and cloudy urban hill landscape of 'Viana do Castelo'. I was here a few days ago in the sunshine parked down by the river and I enjoyed this cosmopolitan touristy town very much. Rap3 is now in a garage 3km away awaiting the arrival of parts. Meanwhile my 3 star, and ok, hotel is courtesy of my European breakdown recovery insurance.

All in all an unfortunate happening but one where time and money (the repairs are not gonna be cheap!) will eventually return a new normality.

Now; I know what you are saying about my 'Quantumisation' of the happenings. It is to be expected, along with the 'scoffing at' and the full blown 'what ridiculous assumptions'. I don't blame you. Such reactions are, In effect, perfectly normal and standard skeptic treatment. It is also pointless me trying to justify my quantum claims as so far science cannot separate or verify such individual claims/happenings from being in the realm of straightforward chance.

However; Science, in particular 'Para Psychology' (again 'Psi' research) has  for many years now proved emphatically that human quantum Entanglement (mind matter, matter mind or mind to remote mind) does, and is, happening way above what would be expected from mere chance.

These phenomena are now well documented and in fact pretty well accepted as fact. Military, gambling, insurance plus others use such information in their algorithm driven worlds on a daily basis. But we, the unwashed general public rarely hear about it.

Well; you'll be pleased to hear I'm going to leave it there. Apart that is from three or four quotations and to encourage reading around the subject if this blog has sparked interest.

However; let me assure you dear reader that if you have got this far I'm more than pleased and perfectly happy for you to apply or pour on whatever stream of skepticism or downright ridicule you wish.

I'd rather you stay safe than join this unpredictable, quirky and sometimes crazily baffling world that I seem to have popped up in.
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Quote 1 (me) an attempt to put into words what repeatedly happens to me.

"I have observed when a situation happens involving heightened emotion, trauma, or deep/meditative mind states; then, at some future point a similar situation will be created. This second situation is non predictable. It will contain similarities, links, direct and opposites (sometimes direct geometric) that, when consciously post-examined, clearly relate it to the original situation".

The 'links', differences and possible 'geometric opposites' are important in that they establish an observable pattern as opposed to Chaos and Chance. They also enable removal of language usually associated with such happenings. Eg: coincidence, para normal, spooky, de ja vue, etc.

Quote 2 (Carl Jung)

"Loneliness (Ed - in my case a perfectly acceptable 'Aloneness') does not come from having no people about one, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to oneself, or from holding certain views which others find inadmissible.”

Quote 3  ('www.livescience.com' referring to Quantum experimentation by scientist Geraldo Barbosa.)

"..... it means our macroscopic brains can pick up subtle, microscopic quantum effects."

Quote 4 (Dean Radin. 'Entangled minds' Kindle edition.)

..... (now)... "I believe we will continue to find increasingly strong reasons to believe that some of the strange effects (already) observed in the microscopic world exist, not only in exotic realms, but also in the more intimate domain of human experience".

..............

Pontevedra & a dumping, 😱

"I'm glad Rap3 is tucked in safely and sheltered by those trees". I said as I set out donned in full wet weather gear for my 20 minute walk down to the 'end of the world'.

If you travel westerly facing European coasts you have to resign yourself to inclement weather. Scotland, Ireland, Wales, all stunning and wild coastal scenic masterpieces as long as you keep regularly visiting them in order you experience them, at least some of the time, at their benign best. The majority of visiting time is, just by the west coasts very nature, stunning in different ways. Cloudscapes, storms and squalls crossing the ocean toward you. Within a space of 10 minutes you are invariably subject to mist, fog, horizontal rain and buffeting, verging on hurricane force winds eddying up from dizzying cliffs and spectacular surf shows far far below.

'Fisterra' (Finistere) is no different. 

"I enjoyed my visit to the end of the world'. 

Reads the plaque commemorating Stephen Hawkins 2017 visit. The wind and rain certainly battered and buffeted me as I walked down to the lighthouse and past the tatty souvenir shop. Right out to the point I went along with two bedraggled pilgrims who determinedly had completed the whole of the 'Santiago de Compostella' pilgrimage. The tradition is that at 'Fisterra' you burn the clothes you walked the pilgrimage in as they can take you no further. Evidence of this tradition in one or two well used and blackened rock faces was there to see. Not today though and my two bedraggled pilgrims having completed their arduous task were a little later seen climbing into a taxi presumably to their hotel and, I hope, some TLC. 

So there we are then. I was standing among the jumble of rocks at Finisterre, the most Westerly point of the whole European continent. The wind moderated, the rain stopped and rays of sunshine skipped across the ocean between misty masses of dark ocean squalls in the distance. Not magical but always inspiring, thought provoking and for January excellent weather as it was very warm. Something you don't get on equally impressive lumps of headland rock in Scotland, Wales or Ireland in January!

.......

I like 'Pontevedra' sitting as it does in a bend of the 'Rio' estuary, here in SW Galicia. A lively, tourist and Moho friendly town, even in January. There are lovely river walks plus a charming Old Town where this afternoon I located the 'Office d' tourisme' and courtesy of their Wi Fi downloaded two more books to my Kindle.

I was intending moving on further South but weather this morning was gorgeous so instead set out for a long walk up the river. People out running, walking, rowing, kayaking and numerous doggy walkers. The sports and fitness facilities here are very prominent as they are all over France and Spain. Anyway I didn't get quite as far as I wanted to as I had what is known as an 'Oesophagal dumping' (bit like a diabetics hypo) incident which left me light headed, dizzy and fatigued. I knew what was happening and just had to rest a bit till the worst passed and then slowly walk back to Rap3, my sanctuary. By the time I did get back I was over the worst but tired out and needing a bit of a lie down... read hour & a half's sleep! Hence my shorter walk this afternoon in the warm sunshine to Old Town. No further 'dumping' but its early to bed for me tonight as I still feel a degree or two under what I would consider to be normal.

....

Up and about today and feeling normal. In fact it has been a good day, good weather with a lovely beach sunset at 'Camposancos' which is the southernmost point of Galicia where I look across the 'Rio Minhos' to Portugal. If they let me in I'll be there tomorrow.

The drive from 'Pontevedra' was beautiful, apart from the busy port and shipbuilding centre of 'Vigo'. Bit austere and very busy. Hug the coast and continue South though; and I guarantee a very pleasant and quiet drive. In fact a very genteel ramble through numerous rather attractive beach resorts. Stopped off at 'Baiona' and took the bike for a trip round the island based Fort guarding the entrance to 'Vigo's' magnificent and natural deep water harbour. Yup; a good day with even a little time to start my latest book by Professor Dean Radin on Quantum Entanglement, the new cutting edge of science which is literally forcing a re write of much established, traditional and classic science. But I'll tell you more about that in my next blog. Bet you can't wait eh! 

2020. I'm off again.

Today proved my hunch was right. I've been watching the weather charts, in particular the position of the Jet Stream, for a few weeks. What seemed to be different this year was the Jet Stream looked a little further West than normal. This in turn seemed, to my uneducated way of looking at it, to be allowing warmer and drier weather over Asturia (NW Spain) and down the West Coast of Portugal.

Now I normally avoid West during Jan/Feb as the East Med Coast is traditionally drier and brighter. Note I did not say warmer. Readers of my previous blogs will be familiar with my yearly rants about how surprised I always am at the bitter cold winds that cut you in half which prevail all down the Eastern Med during Jan Feb & sometimes March.

This year though things are different. For a start I have no little doggy with me which prompted me to book the Portsmouth to Santandar ferry. In January this is always a risky crossing if you do not have good seafarers legs. No problem for me but after one previous awful crossing I had, against my better judgement, booked Tanya in the on board kennels. It was not good and I basically sat with her in my arms the whole night as she was traumatised, sick and trembling. I swore never to do it again unless I could get one of the few doggy friendly cabins. These are as rare as hens teeth and notoriously difficult to book. Consequently this is the first year I have returned to doing this trip after several years absence.

As usual the large Brittany Ferry was heavily populated with us silversurfers in our Moho's and the trip did not disappoint. We all got a good rough weather pounding as we rounded Brittany and ploughed our way through the Northern half of the bay of Biscay. I'm one of the lucky ones with the level of my discomfort being no more than having to keep knife pressed down on plate to keep it in place as fork travels to mouth with its parcel of food. There were some pretty green faces on view though. I do feel for them and always offer up a wee thank you for my own robust sea legs & stomach, which, after its Oesophagal Cancer alterations, is both fortunate and all the more to be thankful for.

Back to the weather and my hunch and prediction that the arrival in Santandar would be in bright and relatively warm, for January, sunshine. Well so it proved to be. So; as we all disembarked and all my fellow travelling Moho'ers rushed onto the Southbound, 'Costa's here I come' motorway I turned West for about an hours toddling along the coast road before settling for the night at a beautiful beach populated by a Sunday afternoon local population of family groups with their bbques, sand walking in bare feet Mum's n Dads, (children everywhere with wet Sunday best trainers... lol.) & in general everyone meandering in and out of the dunes and watching the spectacular surf breaking on beach, rocks and cliffs. Dark by seven pm and myself and one other English speaking guy from the Czech Republic had the whole place to ourselves. As an aside my Czech friend had arrived via Ireland where he had been jobbing as a carpenter in County Kerry just down from my son Keith and Family. Always a small world.

My hunch held today as well. Beautiful weather and a beautiful continuing slow drive Westwards but not on the busy A8 Motorway. The N632, former main road, proved a satisfyingly memorable drive. Twisty and slow yes. Busy no. Rocky coves with crashing surf and idyllic beaches to my right. Snow covered Picos mountain ranges glistening in the sun to my left. I know I'm not your run of the mill moho'er preferring smaller roads and just plain wandering rather than any plan or particular destination. But Oh; the joy of it. A quiet road with no one hassling to overtake, no deadline, uphill, downhill, twisty hairpins, green fields, scattered villages, enticing glimpses through groves of pine and Eucalyptus trees and even pleasure when Mrs Sat Nav brought me to a lunchtime car park with height barrier to keep 'them pesky Moho' ers' out'. No problem as we slowly wound our way up the very narrow lane to top of the cliffs and a wee gateway conveniantly Rap3 size. There was bonus too. A lovely circular walk down through the wood to the beach below.

I'm 'Gijon' tonight in a Moho Aire, which is full of Spanish & French moho'ers. Seems peaceful enough with the nearby rail line from the docks giving occasional but acceptable disturbance. I intend, providing my luck with the weather holds, to get bike out tomorrow and explore.

Al in all, and so far, a good start to this year's sojourn around the my much loved Iberian peninsular. Fingers crossed I keep Tiredness, Hunger and Cold firmly controlled which should keep me outside of that vulnerability zone where Stress, unplanned incidents and wrong decisions happen.

OMG........ What am I going to do, say ...... I mean, how am I gonna cope if it....... dare I say it.... Rains!!!

NB; There we are, I've finally done it. A Blog post. Not had the incentive or enthusiasm to 'Blog' for some considerable time. So here's a start. Hope you enjoy it. Warm thoughts to all my readers. 

It's a Sainsbury veggie steak. I've had better. 😱

Budleigh Salterton & heatwaves.

A mini heatwave they said, here in the UK. So here I am surreally parked up outside of, and holding the keys to, a lovely large house in Budleigh Salterton. My young sis and hubby finally completed their move to sunny Devon just a few days ago and I, always up for an adventure, arrived same time as the removal vans to give a hand. A busy couple of days before Sis and hubby swanned off again to attend a family function leaving yours truly in charge with, as I later established, all the house keys. Just glad I queried said possession of 'all' house keys before I Moho'd away having secured and locked up and then merrily posted all keys through the letterbox. An arrangement has been arrived at, say no more, nudge nudge, wink, wink.

Sunny Devon, heatwave defo happening according to all the media. So out it is with e bike and off we go to Exmouth in shirtsleeves only.  Hmmm.... not so warm along this shady tree tunnel of a former railway now a cycle track. Also not so warm in breezy and fairly cloud covered Exmouth. Guess some of it has to be down to me and this new slim, ie: no insulation, after cancer body of mine. I seem to be very sensitive to temperature change and had that confirmed as I noticed the large quantity of pearly white semi naked holidaymakers enthusiastically baring all to the cloudy sky, the breezy beach and the bracing salty Devonian sea. The coolness certainly did not spoil a most enjoyable day which ended with a decision to stay on for one more day.

So E bike came out again this morning and we set off along the narrow lanes and cycleways to Otterton and thence to Sidmouth. After consuming with relish one of the best Gazpacho soups I've ever tasted, courtesy of the working water wheel mill at Otterton, it was hard work fighting my way over the steep hill to Sidmouth.

Devon loves adorning its footpaths with nice timber kissing gates. My, now 'non doggy' footpath bikewalk expoditions with a heavy e bike are unfortunately not compatible with these kissing gates. With help from a friendly hiker with two of the gates (or was he just humouring me... lol) plus a lot of struggle I did manage all four pesky kissing gates. Needless to say after a pleasant couple hours in warm and sunny Sidmouth I returned via the lanes and proper cycleways. That is also some hill out of Sidmouth which well and truly tested my e bike. I had to get off and walk the steepest part but was glad to do so as without e bike I think it would have been taxi back then drive Moho to collect bike. All in all two very pleasant days exploring in beautiful weather this idyllic corner of Devon. Thank you sister Katy, hubby Robbie. I approve and will look forward to my next visit.

Wales and Ireland next.

And a bit of early local enlightened religious feminism too. Otterton Church.

Observation & 1997.

On a bike/walk just now in the middle of a large field of Barley between the little hamlet of 'Littleworth' and 'Faringdon', in the county of Oxfordshire. The barley is just starting to turn as the gentle, breeze driven rustling sway of the drooping barley heads reveal the merest tinge of the forthcoming golden sheen it will display upon full ripening.

I'm in 'observation' mode on this particular excursion after reading yesterday's Guardian article  'Where have all our insects gone?' (https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2018/jun/17/where-have-insects-gone-climate-change-population-decline?)

This refers to a survey in Germany which clearly showed a 76% drop in insect numbers since 1989 when the survey was last undertaken. On a more personal level I have noticed during my Moho travels this year a significant absence of the messy death toll of squashed insects on my windscreen that used to be a common problem during the first few years of my wandering and nomadic lifestyle.

Back to the barley field and its enormous expanse of weed free even height healthy looking grain. My observation is noting the distinct lack of insect buzzing sounds. I'm seeing no swooping Swallow or Swifts. Today is a blue sky sunny and warm June day. I'm sitting on the narrow footpath smack in the middle of all this healthily growing grain. One fly  has just buzzed by plus I just noticed one small Aphid crawl across my hand. I spotted one dragon fly as I entered the field but as I penetrated deep into the crop the sight and sense of insects, birds and their accompanying summer sounds are eerily absent. Don't get me wrong it is beautiful out here in this warm June sunshine and the view does have an appealing agricultural technicality to it.  I understand this type of agriculture which completely shapes all of our countryside. I can relate to it from my many years of working involvment in the farming community. But this is different  And not how I remember it. I suppose it has been happening gradually but to me it seems as if it has come suddenly over the last 2 or 3 years.

OK; so I read an article and then, because human nature works this way, I see what I want to see. To some extent that must in this case be true as the Guardian article was the trigger to my curious 'observing'. But such concern is not a new phenomenon to me. In fact the whole episode reminded me of an article I wrote in June of 1997. I was noticing things then and the incident and feelings articulated became a strong precursor to my change of career two years later. Here it is, unabridged and unashamedly presented for your perusal.
..............

Thoughts -  8th June 1997

MOTHER NATURE

I used to sell agricultural machinery and in that capacity I set off a large shiny and new mowing machine. I was left standing amid the exposed underbelly of cut grass, watching as machine and tractor whined away down the field successfully cutting a swathe through a strong and healthy mix of meadow grass and self sown green stalks of corn.

A slight movement and a tiny screeching made me aware of a family of field mice at my feet scuttling in all directions, except for the one doing the screeching who was obviously injured. Their home was gone, their vulnerability exposed, their world irrevocably changed.

The mower wound down after the first circuit of the field and operator and manufacturers representative became deeply involved in technicalities. I, while trying all the time to stay ‘technical’, was totally fascinated by the thousands, of tiny beings, grasshoppers, aphids, greenfly, butterflies, caterpillars, bugs etc that were moving on the shiny green flat metal surface of the mowers safety guards. They were like some huge panicked crowd  trying to escape but only managing to run this way and that and get nowhere. Just like the field mice.

In front of my eyes was a whole population of creatures. A complete swathe of Mother Nature forced from their active conscious life of being insects, into a different state of being. A totally alien state of being. From my vantage point, it seemed all they could do was revert to this instinctive and compulsive behaviour of running this way and  that in the vain hope that what was before, if remembered, would once again return.

Such an abundance of natures life in such a small place and time and just ‘altered’. Altered with not a thought to the consequences, by one fairly ordinary machine built by humans to help ‘improve’ humans lot.

And for now this improving, I am told, seems to work and is beneficial. Bigger, better, always better, and more efficient machines and technology in every direction are, so say, controlling and changing mother nature for my benefit.

Oh! And yes; in the past Mother Nature has been harmed. But not to worry. We are aware of that now and technology and ever increasing knowledge and sophistication will overcome that and give us the very best of Mother Nature.

Which is.?

A Mother Nature that humankind will carry on cherishing and recognising and will carry on being ‘environmentally correct’ with. A nature that humankind will be proficient and efficient with. We will be able to alter and to manipulate it so as to provide all our needs.

A laudable aim indeed which humanity actively pursues and is relatively successful with in some areas, and for short periods of time. A sort of, ‘Look, if I throw enough resources and controls at it I can do it’.

However, Mother earth’s nature is not just a benign system taking in all and meekly subjecting herself to humanity's will and needs.

Over time immemorial, and in guises as obscure as gaseous explosions of unimaginable force in the outer extremities of the galaxy, to, simple breezes rustling leaves on a balmy summers evening Mother Nature continually mutates. Mother Nature is a highly interactive, flexible and powerful system and instrument of change. She proves and shows to us on a daily basis how fast and adept she is at coping and combating and defeating anything that our brains, never mind our feeble machines and as yet prehistoric computers, can devise or challenge her with.

No. This shiny new machine will not assist in famine. It will not stop Global warming or the destruction of ozone. It can do nothing for the changing weather patterns, the increasing floods or the rising sea levels. Or even the saving of field mice.

The great Mystics and sages throughout time have been, and still are, aware of how superior Mother Natures brain is to our own. Our civilisation has now labelled that brain ‘Chaos’ or the ‘Chaos theory’.

Mother Natures brain, Chaos, is not hampered by having to think, or to do. Chaos just ‘is’. Neither does it have morals or values. There is no problem or attempted avoidance of death and of course there is no time limit, only infinity. Chaos has no greed or vanity, jealousy or hate. Only beauty, vastness beyond comprehension, and the spiritual power of continual evolvement and renewal.

Now I, as a human being am simply a part of that chaos, a part of Mother Nature, no more no less. So are the insects and the field mice. I am in no way superior and in no way have I anything that would remotely pass as an equal intelligence to that of Mother Nature. I grow, like nature, am flexible, like nature, and I survive alongside other individual parts of nature as a whole.

Extinction in nature is commonplace and I am not immune. Indeed the planet is not immune to changing its ‘Natural State’ to one that would not support life as I know it. To Mother Nature that is simply of no consequence, just progression, a change of state, a normal and perfectly sane ‘chaotic’ Happening.

I once listened to a radio program about a man who spent most of the latter part of his life planting acorn seeds by the thousands in an area that was remote and uninhabited due to humanity’s despoiling and deforestation. Many years have passed and the old man long gone. But his simple action is now a forest, with rivers, and wildlife, and communities.

He had figured it out as the sages and mystics also had. He just became a part of Mother Nature. He did no more or no less than Mother Nature herself. He gently fed back into Mother Nature that which earlier humanity had removed. Mother Nature sprouted fresh life and offered back to humanity another small chance to learn a little more about being truly immortal and everlasting.
...............

There we are. The same still applies. Plant trees. Hmm; yes and maybe but will the insects come back? Who knows.

NB - I missed Tanya on my 'observation' bike walk.

NB - photo - For the 1st time in 8 yrs of fultime moho'ing I open my front windscreen blinds & find myself staring up an inflatable yellow ducks arse! 

RIP Tanya & Thanks for 9 years of Love.

 A new chapter starts.

'steveandtanyaswoofspot.blogspot.com' will continue in name only in honour of Tanya who was undoubtedly the most loyal and loving companion to my wife during her final months and to me for 9 years.

I have her ashes now. They will travel with me and Rap3 where, in the Autumm, I will scatter them in Cashel Forest on the East Side of Loch Lomond. She will lie overlooking the Loch and once again keep company with Kate.

Farewell Tanya. You defined my life so positively this last 9 years. You will not be forgotten.

Despair, Lamentation & is this the end?

Despair & Lamentation. A state of mind I used to be familiar with on a daily basis. Thankfully and due to the twin 'Counselling' and 'Buddhist meditation' journeys such a mindset is now a rare occurrence. This morning though as I leaned against the doorway of Rap3 looking forlornly out into the pine forest it was real. Very real. I had regressed into someone I knew from a long time ago whom I thought was gone for good.

Coastal Pine forest is the norm here in the Vendee area of France. Planted by us humans in order to stabilise the sand dunes they are vast with maze like tracks and paths everywhere. The sound of the sea on the miles of super sand beaches very often being the only indication of where you are. Tanya had been gone within the forest for three hours and for most of that time I had been walking the same vast expanse of pine forest in ever increasing circles all the while calling out her name. I was exhausted in both body and mind.

I'm always nervous of losing Tanya as previous blogs have mentioned. As she has gotten older with reduced sight and hearing and an increased aversion to being on the lead the chances of it happening increase. Especially so as I am not very good at maintaining a 100% vigilant mindset. I'm too soft and easily give in to her uncanny ability 99% of the time to return to our Moho within 10/15 minutes.

This tale however; is not only a doggy tale but also a story of us as human beings. We have two minds, conscious and unconscious, with the latter unconscious element being by far the larger of the two and eminently capable of showing its capacity to superbly and sublty be in charge. It can organise and control the environment both internally and externally to extraordinary levels in order to demonstrate that capability.

This trip Tanya has had three scrapes and survived as attested to in previous blogs. I was relieved about such a situation as my life experience has confirmed over and over again the 'things come in three's' rule. I was however; going to Plum Village retreat centre, a very special place for me but not necessarily so for Tanya. Plum Village is where she has had two of her lives seriously tested in the past so I knew I needed to be vigilant and extra careful.

This year Plum Village was special and I stayed for a week's retreat with one of the reasons being the community took Tanya to their hearts. She was well loved and I was much relieved. All in all, as far as I was concerned both parts of my mind seemed to be in agreement around Tanya. I was relieved and felt I could relax a little and give attention and effort to refreshing myself and in particular my meditative sitting practice.

Meditation is merely learning to observe the mind; in particular those parts of our sub/unconscious mind able to be observed and manipulated in order we live a better life. Not an easy process as our large unconscious mind is good at its job which involves a lot of maintaining specific mindsets and carrying out tasks deemed necessary but given many years ago and not relevant today. Hence unconscious mind is not too keen on my meditation practice where, over many years, I keep handing over new instructions which involve change which is hard work. So it needed once again to show me just how powerful, skilled and in charge it was in order I go back someways to how I was. Back to familiar territory and well trodden easy paths.

So unconscious mind cleverly groomed me. As I left Plum Village relaxed, happy and with a healthy Tanya I was in a good place. 'La Rochelle' slightly roughened things as the camping spot I had selected turned out to be unsuitable with the alternative being fine until the drunks left the bar just down the road continuing their noisy but good humoured noisiness well within earshot till 2am.  5.30am saw the first arrivals of the equally noisy Sunday Market traders. We, it very quickly became apparent, were going to be blocked in if we did not leave quickly, which we did, stopping again out in the countryside to recoup.

I was tired but still in a good place as we arrived at a lovely 'Aire du Camping Car' in 'Notre Dame de-Monts' close to the beach but right in the forest where I could let Tanya out without traffic or road worries. She duly did her bit, wandering in and out of the van with never more than 5/10mins between her comings and goings. As I drifted off to sleep I had no inkling as to how skilfully unconscious mind had set me up for the trauma that was to follow in the morning.

Morning came, Tanya went out and came back. I deemed it safe enough to leave her where she was, curled up in her bed, but with the door open so she could wander in and out. I meanwhile settled into meditation. Well that was the good intention I had, but settling was not there. I'd heard Tanya go out but 'deep mind' was not letting me in, instead deep (or unconscious) mind kept calling to my attention the fact Tanya was not back. In other words; "How dare you consider bothering me again with more trouble. Here's a set up I've organised that will teach you".

Despair and Lamentation it was then, well and truly. Plus all the horrors around failure, guilt, loss of Tanya amplified through my sheer physical exhaustion. A real regression to familiar old territory.

There are two final twists to this story. The first demonstrates how mind somehow sets the final act to show superbly just what it is capable of. The second is live and ongoing and as yet to play out in its one directional fullness.

The First.
Bike was out as I, exhausted as I was, set about widening my search. Then a phone call, and this is the weird, spooky, coincidental, call it what you like bit. A phone call from an English lady in this very French area, who had found Tanya. In fact Tanya had found her by wandering in her front gate. The lady and her husband had only arrived late the previous night for a week of renovation work on their cottage just up the road from the 'Aire du camping car'.

We were duly re-united and, I think, both extremely happy to see the other. For me though it was such a wonderful thing for her to be handed back along with good communication where I was able to unload some of my despair. She empathically understood and hugged. What more could you ask. A perfectly designed ending. Clever, clever unconscious mind.

The Second.
I'm at Cherbourg Ferry Port right now having rushed up here. Tanya the very next day was just not right. The vet I visited near Redon confirmed a weak heart and asked me what I wanted to do. Not a good question to be faced with when standing with a very sick 16 year old small doggy in your arms who can now hardly stand and only manages the occasional drink with help. I'm on the early morning ferry tomorrow. I hope she lasts. We've just had a chat and she would like to get to the UK before........

A retreat + a Christening.

The small name boards in front of each meditation cushion denoted that particular Monk's or Aspirant's sitting practice spot. As I slowly walked these cushion lines I realised that the beautifully deep, silent mediation I had just experienced was, in part, a gift from the always present lingering positive community energy from these rows of cushions which, are several times a day, occupied by dedicated, mindful, compassionate and very normal human guys dressed in their brown or grey robes.

After my period of sitting meditation and as I slowly, walked between these  rows of cushions down the length of the large and very beautiful meditation hall here at 'Plum Village' SW France, I was in 'calm meditative equanimity. The hall was completely empty, silent, warm and welcoming. In fact the whole of Upper Hamlet, the Male centre, was deserted as all the weeks retreat residents plus Monks had decanted themselves to 'Lower Hamlet', the Female centre, for a day of sharing. Although Tanya is accepted here at Upper Hamlet if I had decanted as well it would have meant her being left in Rap3 for the whole day, something I was not prepared to do. Besides; I preferred to stay and take full advantage of the emptiness and silence of this wonderful location. It also gave opportunity for me to cheekily take advantage by walking to the 'business' end of the meditation hall at both beginning and end of my meditation to sound the big deeply sonorous reverberating Mindfulness Bell. It was wondrous to settle into meditative posture and still hear those reverberating sonics coursing through body and mind.

I was not completely alone however: As I slowly and peacefully walked back toward Rap3 to retrieve Tanya I was gently accosted by Carol and Min, her husband, who were on the weekly retreat and had also decided to stay and enjoy the peace. They were young city dwellers from Singapore who also owned a house further South here in France. I think, seeing as how they were tent camping for the first time in their life, they had decided, like me, to ditch the ominously early 5.30am morning start for a more relaxed and loving routine. Especially as it was cold and rainy.

You are gently encouraged, when here, to follow the daily Monastic routine but also sensitive and sensible, leeway is readily accepted toward being skillfully compassionate, loving and kind to self.  This to accommodate the very different physical, mental, and spiritual requirements of the retreatants who arrive from all over the world with, as I've said, wildly different agendas, needs and cultures.

I was staying for just a couple of days but had agreed with myself to 'feel the energy/presence' as we went along as to how long I would stay. Rob from Leicester did that a couple of years ago and is still here. So too with my good friend Manuel, a Doctor from Spain, only it was 2015 when I first met him here. His small caravan plus tent has expanded somewhat but again he is still here. What has changed is that both of them are now different people having found here at Plum Village a way out of their individual suffering. But I shall leave tomorrow, at the end of the week. Fortunately I've not had to clamber out of any particular suffering. My visit this year has been more about gratitude for 'what is' , remarkable in itself when I look back over this last year. Plus a refreshing & rejuvenating of my already established Moho wandering at will, meditative practice on rubber wheels. Guess it's done Tanya and I no great harm over the last few years and I'm a great believer in; 'If it aint broke don't fix it'.

One of the retreat participants was heavily involved in organising and training groups in the recent 'Extinction Rebellion' London actions. A fascinating and passionate young man to listen to who gave real insight into 'what actually went on' and how action such as theirs is not going to stop. As you can imagine a hectic time for him so he got on his bike and cycled all the way down here to be a 'Happy Farmer' for the week. This was a retreat running in parallel involving work on the organic farm belonging to Plum Village and which supplies most of the ingredients for the plentiful and delicious vegetarian meals served up three times a day to us all. I had offered said young man plus bike a lift back up to one of the ferry ports but after a week of calming down and becoming himself once more he has decided to 'slowly' cycle all the way back. Safe pedalling my friend.
.........
The calm of Plum Village is way behind us now as we go thru our morning routine in the 'Vendee' area. Shall I take another day out & visit 'La Rochelle' or speed past to Brittany, my original idea?

My calm persona was tested yesterday as after a long drive I arrived at sleepy little 'L' Eguile' where my Park4night app indicated an OK place to stop down by the muddy tidal harbour. Only to find the last 300metre, through the narrow village centre was 'route barre' (closed) due to extensive re-modelling of the roadway.

"Arrrgh!" Back up, turn around; "sod it, I'm into the village hall parking lot and hope there's no event on tonight". A peaceful night did ensue apart from Tanya  being returned to me by the lady next door, having herself put together the 'Scotland' on the back of the van and the 'Saltire' on her collar. Tanya had not 'done wrong' but had wandered across the grass toward this ladies house where she had two large and freely roaming Alsations. Very kind of her to return Tanya to me and I said so in my best French while also praising her lovely house. This just in case she was about to launch into me for being an irresponsible dog owner. My strategy worked. We parted on good terms.

And finally a Christening. Penny Sue in Ireland. No I was not there but I attach piccys.

From Espana to Fracais.

It's the birdsong I'll remember this place for. Coming from the old oak scrub forest alongside the track where I'm parked. They, our feathered friends that is, had me spellbound at dusk last night and here they are again this morning serenading me with their blend of, 'were up, we're singing, we're happy, what about you?'  Not that here is anywhere special except it is exactly where I seem to love to be, alone, off the beaten track and in beautiful countryside. Yes: this is Aragon. A sparsely populated, harsh agricultural, green hilly terrain on the southern flanks of the Pyrenees.

The city of 'Lleida', in yellow ribbon and 'Liberate, we are not Spain' adorned Catalonia, was my last stop (A big affinity with Scotland and its own struggle to be free of the Westminster oppression is very apparent throughout Catalonia. I am always met with a wave and a smile when people see the Scottish Saltire on Tanya's collar or the Scotland emblem discretely displayed on the back of Rap3.) A very pleasant evening was spent on a 'bike walk expo' through the busy city centre and up to the impressive Castile & Cathedral ruins. Tanya would never have managed the steep walks up to the very top of the castle ramparts, actually not sure I would have either. E bike made it such a pleasing expo though with superb views under a warm and balmy sunsetty sky. We arrived safely back at Rap3 only to find we had neatly parked in a secure and ok place but it just happened to be midway between a large noisy fairground and a mega big music stage where groups were practising at full volume ready for the upcoming weekend Fiesta. The Spanish do not do early nights! Sooo: onto the 'park4night' app I go and it wasn't long before we were re-parked in a very pleasant suburban recreation area approximately 7km outside of Lleida. Phew, much quieter.

As I approached the small hamlet of 'Estopinam del Castillo', clearly visible with its ruined Castillo dominating the approach Road, I happened upon the village Font complete with old type washing pools and room enough to park Rap3. Well; clearly an opportunity not to be missed. Out with buckets, brush and once I had given Tanya a good shampoo I washed Rap3.

Tanya, grumble as she does on these occasions and despite it being a cold water shampoo and rinse, raced around afterwards like a two year old before sitting majestically in the hot sunshine to dry off.

We were wild parked just off an unmetalled road where several vehicles, in fact more than would be expected of such an isolated rough track, travelled past us at various times. Google supplied the answer. E bike came out and in the hot sunshine off we set down to the 'Puente' (small bridge) across the sky blue long narrow man made lakes. My intention was to continue to the popular and well publicised cliff hugging view point but I sensed the 5k rough track ride we'd already done plus heat of the day was enough for Tanya. Adding another 5k would, I feared be too much for her. It was a circular route to the Puente and back but the return was a rougher steeper track. Again E bike using its 'walk assist' feature and carrying Tanya plus rucksack made it a pleasant, mainly walking return to Rap3 with several stops under shady trees.

What I have noticed however: and additional to Tanya's age and condition, is that now, several hours later and in a different location, I am also totally knackered to the point of feeling sick. The sunshine, the adventure of exploring, me feeling good and healthy is all a miracle after last year's cancer. Little adventures like today though thankfully, and safely, remind me I just have not got the physical stamina I used to have. However: a good day overall and now we're parked up for the night atop a windy ridge with snow covered Pyrennian peaks in the distance. Rest for now though. We'll draw a little closer to those imposing peaks tomorrow.

And indeed I have. I could have stuck to the N230 and crossed the border into France but I diverted up and into the high Spanish Pyrenees for one more night. The weather is clear blue with not a cloud in sight. That is always an encouragement to go high for all the breathtaking views.

The road I took was directly above a little hamlet 'Senet de Barraves' leading eventually to a reservoir. I decided to be kind to Rap3 as the steep, twisty, cliff edge mountain road had been metalled (tarmac) when the dam was constructed but was now rapidly deteriorating. We stopped halfway up at a conveniant 'suntrap' corner with its own little mountain stream trickling by.

"C'mon Tanya, let's get the bike out and carry on up the track".

Which we did. Similar to our previous trip, not all the way up to the dam but within sight and well up into and above the rapidly diminishing snowline. Spectacular views plus some very strange looks from two 4x4's as they passed us. Tanya loved it as this road/track was not so rough as our last bikewalk expo plus she was snug and warm in her wooly jumper as blue sky and warm sun aside the unpredictable viscious mountain gusts were straight off the very high and deep snow covered peaks. They slice through you like a sharp knife without the necessary warm clothing. Thank you Kate for all that high Scottish mountain walking/learning. I've not forgotten.

France tomorrow. Not far from Lourdes but I don't intend visiting this time.

Nb - the little white dot on the distant roadway (look directly above the rear of Tanya's green bucket) is Rap3.
-----------------

Tanya... nearly gone!

Lenny, Win" I called out. "Tanya has collapsed, she is not looking good." Lenny and Win, my good friends from 'Moraria', turned back and we all became concerned as poor Tanya lay sprawled out on the pavement looking almost dead. Without further discussion Lenny sprinted off to fetch the car. I carried Tanya in my arms as we walked back to where Lenny could pick us up. I was worried, confused and out of sorts, and really thought this was it, Tanya was on her way to doggy heaven.

I'd been with L & W, parked roadside outside their recently purchased two bed old style fisherman's cottage. This was supposed to be my last day before moving on and we had all gone for a walk to "Moraria"' sea front where there was a lively music and food festival going on. Tanya had been no trouble and was doing her usual trick of trotting along sampling all the sniffs, until that is, she suddenly vomited & totally collapsed.

Over the previous few days in back of my mind had been a dim and lingering expectation of something due to happen as, over the previous couple of weeks, she has given me two frights which, from my experience of life tells me a third fright is due.

The first incident happened when I was feeling a 'wee bitty peely wally' (Scottish for 'just not right') and had overnighted on the edge of a residential area of several tall apartment blocks. We were separate but safe and I could let Tanya out to wander which she often does, never usually straying far out of sight. This time however; which also happened to be last thing at night, alarm bells started to ring as she had drifted out of sight and too much time had passed. My rising agitation was starting to reach panic levels as I methodically searched and called but got no little black flappy eared doggy appearing suddenly from behind a bush or waste bin which is the usual scenario. I scoured all round the tower block complex before, in desperation, entering the complex itself. Much to my relief, I found her there as a fellow doggy owner plus the local bar keeper were examining her collar to establish who the owner of this lost doggy was. This, as I've said was right smack in the middle of the apartment complex, quite a long way from Rap3 and definitely not where I expected her to be. Tanya, to add insult to my 'upsetness' was not fazed at all and was quite happy in Mr Spanish but English speaking barkeepers arms. Grrrrrr!

Incident number two was up in the mountains behind Benidorm. A beautiful area with views & small bendy mountain roads to die for. We'd parked in a small Almond Orchard and set off up the mountain side on a good track intending to walk the 1.7k to a 'Fuente' (Fountain). For some time now, on such walks, I have had to carry Tanya on the rough steep rocky bits putting her down again where ever there is easier walking. This has cured me of; 'having to reach the destination' as I have to make a careful judgement as to my fitness/stamina in respect of getting safely back to Rap3. We were on the way back and I had negotiated a particularly steep gully where I'd carried Tanya and then put her down to walk a pleasant flat section along the top of an Almond Orchard terrace. I relaxed, in my own little world, enjoying the high mountain peace, quiet and insect buzzing fragrant warmth.

Tanya often lags behind on these walks so I was not worried as I stopped to wait for her. It was a comfort stop but by the time percy was once again secure behind zipped fly madame Tanya had still not appeared and could not be seen anywhere along the path as I slowly retraced my steps while calling out her name. I was almost back at the lip to the steep gully and once again fighting rising panic before I heard the familiar tinging sound of her metal collar tag. I looked down and there she was, six feet below me on the lower terrace. I had to climb down the rough stone terrace wall to retrieve her and I presumed she must have fallen down it. Again, thankfully, she seemed quite unfazed by the incident but more to the point, also uninjured. She trotted along behind me once again but this time with me frequently noting her presence. As we reached the last part of the walk, a well used concreted track, I thanked the 'Divine mountain presence' for returning us both safely while also requesting that the inevitable third 'fright' be not disastrously overwhelming or calamitous.

So here we were, at fright number three. Win, bless her, cottoned onto the seriousness of Tanya's current situation and also realised I was somewhat in shock, compromised and in general, unable to make a decision. She immediately phoned their vet and Lenny soon had all of us there.  Mr Vet in no time at all inserted a drip into Tanya plus two injections. Bearing in mind this was a Saturday afternoon and Mr Vet was forgoing a family gathering. He really was a true animal loving Vet and a lovely guy all round. You would not get that in the UK.

We all then waited and over the next two hours Tanya slowly came to, lifted her head and finally was able to stand although her back legs were extremely wobbly.

While we all waited Mr Vet also checked out Buster, L & W's little Shitzoo. He also had a minor vomit plus he was coughing which made us all think the two conditions were related. Buster in the end was fine with cough the result of him being concerned for Tanya and injesting some of her fur as he had insisted on licking Tanya's semi lifeless body continually during the car journey to the vets.

Tanya, and its now several days on, has recovered well. It is now very apparent she is a very old lady. Walks are now not done in the heat of the day plus they are shorter, slower and often involve me carrying her some of the time. But she is still 'up for it' eating and sleeping well and liking nothing more than a quiet camping spot where she can wander around at will sampling the sniffs.

Two postscript to this story.

1). The Vets bill was ridiculously cheap. So much so I had to insist he charge correctly for the three Saturday afternoon hours he dedicated to saving Tanya.

2). I dedicate this story to my Sister in law and family who unfortunately were not so lucky in that they lost their beloved fourteen year old doggy on the same day. A Surreal and sad coincidence.