Malaga & Benalmadena.

As you go west away from Malaga port and town centre area you walk / cycle along the lovely promenade which eventually peters out. It is next to a major road. Inland of this busy road are all the supermarkets, B&Q type stores and of course MacDonalds. It is a huge out of town retail area.

On the beach side is a large empty area, roughish and not too far from a big block of flats. We had spotted this as we walked along the promenade after a sleep after our drive back down from the mountains after a rough night parked at a beautiful spot overlooking the coast. We could see right down to Fuengirola and Eastwards all the way to Almeria. Such a spot, giving such wonderful views is high and exposed but as we parked the sun was setting, the breeze was cool but pleasant and all was well in Steve, Sadie and Tanya's world.

Aha! You say, what's coming here? You'd be right too.

The weather closed in overnight and it was a rocky, but not too scary a night with strong mountain gusts coming from all directions coupled with rain. In the morning we awoke to no view, thick fog and wet wet wet.

Shame really as the previous day had been bright and sunny. We had enjoyed a wonderful drive up to the mountain top village of 'Comares'. Stunning views from the parapets and an old lady who cunningly lured me into her house for the sole purpose of ..... no it is not what you're thinking, some of that comes later! .... selling me Mandarin Oranges, Figs and currants!

I was now getting short of Mandarins so for once I quite happily allowed myself to be relieved of €10 in exchange for a big bag of locally produced goods plus for good measure some of the old lady's home made cake that tastes of liquorice. She was an expert saleswoman and I chuckled to myself as I left. It was worth €10 just to see inside this traditional and right on the tourist village trail house with it's old couple and one other resident. This other resident happened to be the Virgin Mary and child. Pictures and statues of whom adorned every available space. We parted on good terms and as I left she stuffed another generous handful of plump juicy raisins into my bulging plastic bag.

The mountains beat us back down to sea level and Malaga in particular. High, twisty and narrow mountain roads are a delight in dry sunny weather but no fun in pouring rain and heavy mist.

So here we were sitting and chatting in Wills van which was parked just behind mine. Will was originally from Edinburgh but has lived near Amsterdam for long enough for him to be slightly uncomfortable speaking English. He was on a ten week trip in his large twin axle and very comfy motorhome. Will was on his own like me and we quickly became good friends with our shared interest in Buddhist based meditation. A lovely, genuine and gentle man.

"There is some strange stuff goes on here at night" says Will. A large dark area on the edge of the good and the not so good end of a busy port and tourist town does not need a lot of imagination to figure out what went on. Sure enough, Once it got dark there were all sorts of comings and goings of cars etc. But Peppi, a local who also lived there in his van said they never bothered the motorhomes and true enough they did'nt which was good as being able to park right on the beach with nothing but sand and sea in front of you is a real bonus.

The German guy, bit younger than Will and I, who was just to the side of me was also on his own. I was therefore most surprised when early this morning as Tanya and I walked past his van on our early morning walk we were greeted with a cheery "Good Morning" from a young ladies head poking out of his window which on his van would have been the bedhead. I was with Will much later when we saw him getting his motor scooter off the van then loading young lady onto it and presumably returning her from whence she came.

'Hmmmm!" I thought. "Maybe I ought to get a motor scooter!"

Tonight though all such shenanagins are about 20k behind. We are parked for the night right by the big Buddhist Stupa, where I've just attended a lovely Sunday night public guided meditation, here at 'Benalmadena'.

Chris, Michelle and the children have holidayed near here and Chris, in a recent e mail, mentioned a Buddhist Temple. A Stupa is a sort of a temple but there is no monastery attached. A thriving local Buddhist movement based around the 'Karmapa Kagyu' lineage tradition take care of it, run a little Tibetan Buddhist shop and guide the meditations. Much of the development here is very architecturally Tibetan with gold pagoda roofs and stupa shaped windows. Very attractive.

For me there is a strong energy here. The large Buddha inside the temple is the female, Green Tara emanation of Buddha. It is very much the equivalent of, and right next door to, cos the sign to it is just outside Sadie's door, an Our Lady of Lourdes Grotto.

I guess this coastline has always had it's powerful icons to the Gods of the day with numerous examples of extravagant Muslim settlements, forts and Mosques plus the equivalent Christian defences shrines and Cathederals. Often they are built one atop the other on a sort of last in gets to build a monument basis. It feels now, as I travell down this highly developed and populated coast that humanity has gone right back to the pre Christian Romans with their many Gods, temples and amphitheatres. Only now the Gods are oil based rampant consumerism, cars, sex, drugs and alcohol with the monuments being the never ending, but never the less impressive, strips of hotels, casinos, bars, restaurants and shops. Oh! And must not forget the carefully manicured strips of sand with there sun worshippers of course.

So it is good to come across this very prominent, large and viewable from miles around, symbol of a deep and ancient spiritual tradition now spilling over into the west after being routed from it's traditional and secretive Tibetan homeland. I love too how it enhances and in no way distracts from the traditional feminine Virgin Mother side of Christianity prominent here in Southern Europe.

"Right Tanya. C'mon. Suns up and warming this distinctly cold but clear morning. Time you n me found some rampant and decadent western God. We'll go look for the one they call a Cafe and worship at the alter of a freshly made Americano Coffee!"

Nerja, memories & rain.

Rain was persistently falling on us as we pulled in to a level and empty gravel car park not 200m from a roughish sea depositing itself with customary foamy whiteness on the steep pebbly beach. There was the usual sign as we entered; 'Prohibido Acampacar'. I have got used to ignoring these as I become more competent at seeking out the little spots slightly away from the main touristy bits where you see 'Acampacars' stopped all over the place. No wonder the 'Policia' move them on.

Tanya and I had already enjoyed a good early morning walk in Nerja before the rain started. A walk which gave a bonus discovery of a crystal clear water irrigation catchment right by the roadside where later I was able to park Sadie and replenish our dwindling water supply.

We had overnighted in Nerja one street back from the 'Burriana' sea front and next to the steep and many steps entrance to the complex of apartments where Kate and I had spent a glorious week several years ago. We had one week walking in the Sierra Nevada and then this beach week at Nerja. Fond memories and a good long afternoon walk in beautiful sunshine had been enjoyed by Tanya and I. We strolled far further than I meant to along the seafront promenade, through the busy streets with all the touristy type shops. Tanya attracted her usual clientele of doggy loving couples, in particular the female half, which lengthened the walk even more as we lingered and chatted. This was quite pleasant though as the majority were English visitors, holiday makers or residents. Definitely a favourite Brit area.

So Nerja was now behind us and I was at a bit of a loss as to our future heading. I want to do a detour up into the hills around Malaga. Todays persistent rain here on the coast was putting me off heading inland and upwards. The rain and the mist would only be worse there. So we had decided to follow the coast a little more today and head inland tomorrow with the forecasted return of sunshine.

I was also in a melancholy mood after Nerja and so this deserted car park stop at the edge of the ocean was to be a meditation and reflection stop. I had intended a meditation right where we were parked at Nerja. However; on returning to Sadie after our morning walk we were confronted with a pair of big tanker drain clearance type lorries parked right beside us and doing there stuff noisily and smellily up at the complex of apartments. A message from Kate maybe .... 'Thats enough maudlin, get on with it, move on and enjoy! So we did but the need for some quiet reflection persisted hence our stop.

The rain was not going away. Tanya, tired out after her morning walk was sound asleep. The sound and sight of waves crashing in gave a background rhythm to the deepening state of meditative calm. Heart and breathing slowed and a cooling of the head set in as brain shut down areas such as agitation, impatience or concern. The shoulds, the oughts and the buts became mere background echoes as they left the room. At last we were truly stopped. Body, soul, mind, Sadie and Tanya. All that was left was the in and out of the breath, continually there and frequently returned to as slippery hooks of scattered and mischievous in-attention were noticed, discarded, and also shown the exit.

Refreshed and re juvenated Tanya and I stepped outside as the rain stopped for a while. I noticed this particular spot, ideal for a night spot, had some disturbing and fresh graffiti daubed on various walls much of it in English. 'Capitalism equals terrorism'. 'Capitalist pigs must die.'

"Hmmmm." I thought as I looked around. There were several large, housing development type, high rise blocks a little further back from the narrow coastal strip of plush, but mainly closed and shuttered, blocks of holiday apartments.

"Methinks there could possibly be one or two decidedly colourful characters around here. Methinks one with ones capitalist motorhome and capitalist doggy will toddle on a bit further down the coast for now."

The rain set in again as we found a more congenial spot just by the busy fishing port and fish market at 'La Caleta de Velez' just by 'Torre del Mar'. No graffiti here and we watched as all the fishing boats returned. The market was a modern, busy all electric and computer screens auction with burly fishermen unloading boats of their crates of fish and shells of every description which were then electronically bid for and loaded into various white vans. Presumably they moved quickly along to the Paella stage in some restaurant or other up and down the Costa del Sol.

I was thinking of buying fresh fish for the evening meal. This was a wholesale market though and apart from not really understanding what the hell was going on I saw no retail outlet to actually purchase a fish. The amount of fish though amazed me. My ignorant landlubber type thinking went something like; "This is just a small Mediterranean fishing port and look at all these fish and other ocean living stuff. This is going on all over 24/7. Poor bloody fish and no wonder the oceans are starting to get a bit low on stocks!"

However; I really did fancy a bit of fresh fish. The ham eggs salad and chips did it OK but I would have preferred a slippery freshly caught and ocean depleting bit of lovely white fish.

Funny creatures us humans eh!

Patrick x 2 @ Antonios.

'My goodness.' I thought as I watched 77 yr old Patrick tuck into his half of my expanded evening meal of stir fry chopped Chorizo sausage and 'other'. He was sitting opposite me in Sadie relating at length his fascinating life story. We also finished off the last of the delicious Almond cake, care of Consum supermercadi, with a second cup of tea pleasantly assisting it on its way.

This was all going on at Antonios. Now I had heard of Antonios from the Somerset couple up near Aguillas. It seems Antonio has what we would call an 'arrangement' with the Guardia Civil here in Mojacar. They clear motorhomers off the seafront, by orders of the Mayoress I am told,  and direct them to Antonios here at the South end of Mojacar. Now Antonio is very acommodating and you can stay here for up to 4 days free of charge as long as you patronise his restaurant either for a meal or for coffee.

The 'arrangement' is a good one as here I am right on the foreshore. It is 1800hrs and I have enjoyed a wonderful day which started with a swim in the sea (yes in February! Short but very pleasant.) A good walk, another brief skinny dip on a deserted beach and a scrumptious Paella washed down with Sangria at Antonios with next door motorhome neighbours Phil and Linda from Torbay in Devon.

Oh! And I nearly forgot. I also met Patrick number 2 this morning. Just after my first swim. I was drying off in the sun outside Sadie when Patrick number 1, whom I had enjoyed inviting in for a meal the previous evening, ambled over with Patrick number 2. Similar to number 1; number 2 was also a divorced single male. He was younger at 70 and he lived, and had done so for the last 5 years, in a small Citreon van type family car! Well; I had to see this and was duly fascinated as Patrick showed me all the little hidey holes and ingenious ways he had adapted bungee cords, blankets, and sheets of hardboard to fashion his living space. Not for me admittedly, but it reminded me of how fortunate I am in having all the home comforts of Sadie to live in.
-  -  -  -
We've moved on again. Just west of Almeria tonight. I've decided to head on westwards and stick to the coast and the warmer weather for a bit. I'm parked right on the beach and just down from a sign saying 'Acampacar Prohibio' I'm sort of expecting to be moved on but both the local Policia and the Gardia Civil have driven by without stopping so looks like I should be OK for one night. There are a couple of hippie type vans a bit further up and when I asked one of them if it was OK he indicated .... 'No Problemio.'
-  -  -

Sunday 17/2/13
Now deep in the amazing 'Plastic fields' along this coastal strip between Almeria & Motril. I am down a wee track that literally was just wide enough for Sadie to squeeze along between the plastic covered landscape. It opened out not far from the beachfront in a wild area just by an overgrown overflow levee and is so peaceful and quiet with just the odd local passing by on foot or a moped. As I raise my eyes and look out there in the distance are the snow covered heights of the Sierra Nevada. They glistened in the early morning sun as Tanya and I walked the beach but now, with the sun higher, they are misty with some of the lower peaks shrouded in cloud.

Internet, or in particular, wi fi access is once again proving a bit hit or miss down here. Out of 4 cafes offering wi fi only one was successful. It seems there is no problem connecting to the cafes router which of course makes you think you have an internet connection. Trouble seems to be the cafes computer is not actually connected to the internet. I managed to explain this to the one good cafe and hey presto we had wi fi. The other 3 did not understand or just shrugged their shoulders and walked away. Each time it costs me a coffee and sometimes a Bocadilla which is more expensive than me paying out the £3.00 daily charge for 3g access via my Vodafone contract.

In general though things are going well, Tanya is happy, and the schedule?  Errrrr .... what schedule!

........

While travelling we stopped at a Mirador with lots of padlocks on the decorative railings. Lots of them were inscribed with protestations of love and the names of the couple. Unusual and touching.

Boat wreck.

"I think I am going to move my van back a bit. That looks highly unstable to me." Said John.

"Me too." Says I as we watch the start of this unconventional unloading of a badly damaged diving school boat.

The whole thing was hanging dangerously far out the back of a big lorry that had drawn up in front of our motorhomes. It did'nt take a lot to figure out what was being proposed. The big Palfinger crane  behind the lorry cab was going to lift this boat up, swing it over, or as it turned out, through the top of, a palm tree and lower it down onto a cradle on the beach front. We were parked not 2 metres the other side. The slightest slip and one rather large and heavy diving school boat could quite easily end up sitting atop 2 or 3 motorhomes, Sadie included.

Several motorhomes discreetly reversed out of harms way but we all helped out by using our headlights to illuminate the area as this dangerous manouvre was by now happening in the dark.

We had arrived at La Azohia earlier as the stiff N Easterly gale was whipping the sea into large waves which were crashing onto the beach and more spectactuarly onto the rocks out at the point. Unfortunately as Tanya and I started to walk toward the cliff path we witnessed a crowd of people desparately trying to lash this diving school boat onto the rocks where the waves had thrown it. Turned out it broke away from its moorings just as the owner reached it to secure it with more rope. There was nothing he could do but watch the wind and waves carry it quickly to the rocks where it ripped off its propellor and steering mechanism and for good measure put a few holes in the hull.

The lorry turned up later and was able, using its crane, to drag the boat up to where it could lift it onto its bed. We were now watching the final instalment. Unloading of the damaged boat.

Thankfully with quite a lot of shouting, shoving and pulling one damaged boat was safely plonked onto it's awaiting cradle, lorry was all packed away and reversed out. Us, the interested and somewhat concerned crowd of motorhomers were finally able to re-position our vans and relax.

Either side of me were English vans and a little later we all spent a very pleasant hour or so in Paul and Ann's van over non alcoholic drinks discussing the days drama and viewing John's i-pad where he had actually video'd the unfortunate shipwreck as it happened. The case was emphatically made that boats, big waves and sharp rocks do not enjoy the best of relationships. Unfortunately I did not get one photo of the whole affair.

I think I'll find somewhere a little quieter tomorrow!

Bye Bye El Berro. Hello seaside - again!

"C'mon Steve. Out of that comfy seat and get the washing up done" says one half of me. 

My other half counters with; "Yes,yes. In a minute. I just need to stay a while and figure out why I am so dog tired tonight that I can hardly move".

As I reflect on the day it soon becomes clear just why I am so tired.

We were up early for Tanya's morning walk on this our final morning at El Berro campsite. There was a stiff north wind blowing and when you are 600m up in the 'Sierra de Espuna', even though the sun is just about to show itself in the clear blue sky, I can assure you it is cold, bitterly cold.

Shower next in the very welcoming heated shower block with piping hot showers. Breakfast is then followed by the various chores required to get Sadie all packed away and ready to roll. The shiny new, non suspension front forks on our bike look rather good as I lift and secure/lock it into position on the carrying rack.

The bike, fully repaired had been returned the day before and we had taken the opportunity to go on one of our 'bike-walk expoditions'. Espuna is a seriously mountainous area and there is no way I could cycle up some of those hills. Walking and pushing the bike is equally enjoyable though and Tanya loves the mix of walking, sniffing and then zooming down hills in her green doggy carrier. We got all the way up to 'La Perdis' recreation area where the day before we had parked Sadie and climbed, nay scrambled some of the way up the 1444m high peak that dominates the area. I knew I would not be able to make the peak for that is a serious day long climb. However; an hour and a quarter of steady steep climbing was enough to give amazing views and a place to enjoy our lunch in the warm mountain sunshine. Plus it also left me with enough stamina to come back down. Always the tricky bit requiring full concentration when so steep and treacherously gravel-slippy underfoot. All went well I am pleased to report and here we were again the next day only this time on bike We were able to cycle on and get a good view of where we had walked the day before. OK so it was a long way off the peak but I was impressed all the same when I saw just how far up this brute of a mountain we had struggled.

OK; back to today. Bike on the rack. Water tank topped up. Electric cable disconnected and stowed. Chair, table, awning and floor sheet all packed away. Cupboards closed, seats turned around and Tanyas travel bed prepared and last of all, with Tanya shut inside (!! No more running over thank you very much!) Sadie is rolled back off the levelling ramps and they are collected and stored.

Phew! That only leaves a walk round to say cheerio to all the good friends I've made during the week and of course the painful bit, pay the bill.

Finally we were off and as always sadness at leaving is soon replaced by excitement as Sadie effortlessly starts to negotiate her way up hair raising hairpin stairways on this the long and scenic route through, up and over and then down and out of 'Sierra de Espuna'. A slow but thrilling drive especially built by the Spaniards for this foolhardy, nay stupid old bearded Inglesia pensioner who, without a risk averse wife to temper his madness, flings his motorhome with gay abandon around sky high and crumbly edged hairpins atop a downward oblivion of nothing but stubby pines and mountain goats. Ahhhhh bliss!!

'Totana' was the first small town we arrived at which conveniently had supermarket and fuel stop. In fact the supermarket had an under cover car park big enough to fit Sadie in which was very convenient. Onwards we went now fully stocked and ready for a few days wild camping down by the coast and hopefully where it is a bit warmer. Around 'Lorca' we speed and eventually end up here at a beautiful spot right by the sea just north of 'Aguillas' and if I look out of Sadies side window I can see the village of 'Calabardina' across the bay.

There are lots of other motorhomes here which is how I found the place. You have a job to hide a motorhome away and these were clearly visible from the nearby coastal road. The Somerset couple parked just in front tell me the coastline south of here is littered with beautiful wild camping spots like this one. We are the only two UK motorhomers here the rest, about 30, being mainly Dutch and German.

So all in all a busy busy bee day. No wonder I am tired. But tired or not I think to myself;

"I got a feeling the blow up canoe may be coming out tomorrow!"

-  -  -

2 days on.

Still here .... stopped, walking, biking, canoeing, & lazing in the sun.

Robbery & 'El Berro' campsite.

Y'know; God likes a good laugh, and, God's good laughs usually involve our misfortune in some way or other. I chuckled as I reached this conclusion amid the pouring rain as Tanya and I trudged our soggy way back to the 'El Berro' campsite here in the beautiful mountains of 'Parque natural Sierra de Espuna'.

Tanya had awoken me at 0830 and, as we often do, I had flung on a few clothes and headed straight out for an early morning Tanya constitutional walk. It was windy and definitely cooler than the previous two days of unbroken and windless hot sun. There were clouds about but also some early morning warming sunshine. As we trudged our way up the well marked GR 252 footpath deep between steep pine covered hillsides my befuddled and not yet fully awakened brain started to register a darkening accompanied by an increase in wind noise through the pine trees. This was not a big walk at all but even so we had walked for about half an hour with Tanya fully into her sniff and mark territory mode. Me? Well I was in another world and musing on whatever it is a half awakened and befuddled early morning mind muses upon.

It was time to turn back. Only then. Only at that furthest and highest point did I notice the first raindrop and how cleverly God in his/her humour had kept my eyes down watching where I walked while he/she sneaked the dark storm clouds over the mountains to a position where for Tanya and I there was no escape. We were rapidly soaked to the skin as we trudged back. By the time we returned to Sadie my totally innappropriate light hoody top and tracksuit bottoms were fully in the heavy rinse cycle. I'm afraid it was on with central heating while we dried out and changed clothes.

Now it is 1100hrs. We have had a lazy breakfast, the sun is once again shining, although it is quite windy, and I have been watching the campsite slowly come to life. Mind you. God did'nt have it all his/her own way. Last night I did, after viewing the weather forecast, gather in all my lovely sun dried washing. I also safely stowed Sadies 4.5m wind trap of an awning too.

So God, sorry but I figured that one out. Admittedly that scenario would have been a better laugh. Half naked and bleary eyed Steve struggling in the middle of a very cold and windy night to get washing in and stow unwieldy awning. However; catching me out with rain early in the morning. Hmmmph! That's a pretty good laugh too and I fell for that one hook line and sinker!

We are at the El Berrow campsite due to a number of circumstances. One is I was running out of clean clothes and needing a laundry stop. Another is this part of the coastal strip is not doing it for me whereas the beauty of the mountains is. That fact has been both my downfall and my uplift.

We were on our way to El Berro, on the cart tracks as usual, when we came across the stunning 'Embalse de Algeciras'. A man made lake high above the fertile Murcia to Lorca valley. There are lots of these created lakes in this fertile but hot and arid area. Algeciras is, on the map, a small one but it still took my breath away as we arrived at a level viewpoint right above it and alongside a fast flowing canal presumably taking water to the many irrigation channels and smaller storage containers which were dotted everywhere you looked.

'Well' thought I, 'let's delay El Berro for a day and stay here in this beautiful spot.' Which indeed we did. In fact we found a brilliant walk up the ridge which just kept getting higher and higher and presenting ever more stunning views of the valleys and hills near and far all the way down to the Med coast. We were in high spirits and pleased at this unexpected bonus.

So you can imagine my surprise, annoyance and disappointment on our return to Sadie when I noticed we had been robbed. One bike wheel was at a strange angle and only hanging on the bike rack courtesy of the still locked and secure chain. The one thing the locking chain had not been wrapped round were the bikes front suspension forks. The bit the front wheel fits into. It seems, or at least I presume, some opportunistic mountain biker happened by and thought; 'Mmmmm! Got my wee tool kit with me, 2 minute job, methinks I'll just help myself to those!' And he/she did. The upside is there was no other damage to either the bike or to Sadie. A huge relief I can tell you. All in all an annoying happening but one where, on hindsight, I see I had parked and left Sadie in a very exposed viewpoint with a steady stream of traffic passing by be they walkers, bikers or car drivers. A lesson and a warning for the future as I head even further South. Do'nt wild park in full view at regularly used public spots.

We arrived at El Berro the following day and once booked in I queried availability of a bike shop and explained best I could the problem. Well! Mr campsite booking in man became quite upset and was on the phone speaking agitatedly and loudly to, as it turned out, the site owner who appeared a few minutes later. Understanding was soon reached with bike being loaded into his car to be taken to Alhama for repair. Seems it is going to cost me .... 'Total absolute senyor .... €30'. Unfortunately it is going to take a few days but I have booked into the campsite for a week so .... 'iss OK, no problemo mi amigo! '. 

Hmmmmm! Have faith and just trust Steve. It will come back and all will be well ..... I hope!!

Saturday today. A 6 mile walk and just the best motorhome cooked sausage casserole ever. Courtesy of the small El Berro shop and a long length of locally made goat sausage. Different but yummy yummy!

2 piccy's. One of bike minus forks. 2nd of Sadie on El Berro site.