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!