West, as usual = wet wet wet. + relatives.

"Goodness Tanya, wet it may be but we are not freezing cold and sat in 300mm of snow like in the UK."

This was said as once again we managed to reach Sadie just before the heavens opened up with the latest shower. The result, according to the weather forecasters, of the same changing weather patterns that are also viciously affecting the UK at present. I also know personally how vicious it is as my agent confirmed my new tenant is now safely installed despite 300mm of snow affecting the house on moving in day.

Despite the rain we have managed 3 days in a campsite at 'Quarteria' where, thanks to Sadie's generous 4.5m awning, some rope and the two sheets I carry, a good laundry was accomplished plus Tanya now smells and looks better.

For the first time too we witnessed and were harassed by the atypical 'English lout'. The afternoon was giving notice of brightening up with prospect of a pleasant evening. Out comes bike and off we go, for miles seeing as it is seafront promenade most of the way. 'Vilamoura' marina complete with it's line of floating plastic Millionaire yaghts is soon reached. As we slowly cycle round the busy touristy bars and restaurants a drunken voice rings out loud and clear. 

"hey, will ya getta fu****g look at this fu****g dog on rhe back of this fu****g prats fu****g bike!!"

 Whereupon about six of them piled out of the bar and began chasing after me accompanied by group rendering of various obscenities which have already been alluded too. The front was crowded. I could not speedily pedal out of harms way. Happily they were so drunk they could hardly stand never mind engage in vigorous pursuit.  I think a guy I passed walking with his family quietly tripped one of them up as when I looked back from a safe distance all I could see was a melee of drunken male bodies trying to extricate themselves from a heap of their own making. They did not resume the chase and probably could not even remember what they were chasing. I returned by another route. So sad though and made me ashamed to think they were from the same country as myself.

At present it is another wet, wet, wet evening in a park alongside other motorhomes overlooking the main beach at 'Sagres'. We 'spit tarmac' once we left the Quarteria campsite arriving here yesterday. We have visited ''Cabo Sao Vicente' the most South Westerly point on the European mainland. Very impressive with its sheer crumbling and very high cliffs the base of which are continually pounded by the relentless swell of the Atlantic. I could very well imagine how, in earlier times, this place was viewed as the end of the flat world.

Equally impressive were the Portuguese fishermen who perched atop the very edge of this 'end of the world'. With their long flexible rods they hauled fish out from the foaming fury hundreds of metres below them. I watched as one short, wiry, Mediterranian brown local hauled 3 good sized fish out in as many minutes. One nearly hit me as the wind caught his line plus accompanying wriggling and sparkling silvery fish and swung it way out behind him and right over my quickly ducked head.

A quiet meander along the delightful back roads of this Algarve coastline has brought us once again back to the golf resort of 'Vilamoura'  I will remain for a few days as My x brother in law Ian and his charming wife Aju have a villa in one of the Condominiuns here and Sadie is snuggled up to their hedge just outside their gate. They are regular visitors and a couple of very pleasant days have been passed in their company.

Watching the Skyfall James Bond movie on their big telly last night was a real treat. A wee (rather large 'wee' actually) whisky with it and I slept like a log last night. Mind you; rascal Tanya still woke me at half seven this morning wanting her early morning walk. Hmmmmm!!

Portugal, Reflections & more rain.

Yup; hit Portugal, Algarve, a couple of days ago and straight into Motorhome world big time. They are everywhere, hundreds of them, big, small, mega big with trailer loads of cars behind them. Mostly Dutch, German, and French with a smattering of British. Every little bit of space between beach and resort has Motorhomes on it. Most is free parking with, I was told, more and more charging barriers being installed. That does not suprise me. We spent one night amid these 'main road' silver surfer type Motorhomers before this morning, just after a thunderous deluge, we headed out with sat nav set for the rural hinterland and the wee roads. As usual we have enjoyed a delightful drive through, admittedly damp, countryside to our present wild spot high on a hill surrounded by pine woods, spring flowers and overlooking 'Barragem Odiliette."

And guess what? We have not seen another Motorhome all day.

Peace, quiet and very pleasant walking. A beautiful afternoon of meditative calm has been spent here. This happens so often. Driving along slowly and happily when a spot with an eye catching view presents itself. In we go for a quick look and there we stay.

The bonus with this particular spot is a really good 3G internet reception. Radio 2 clear and consistent. A real treat.

Rural Portugal first impressions are; - it is less populated, villages are smaller, more agricultural, and far less commercial. Hills and winding roads are more gentle but there are a lot more 'unmetalled' (no tarmac) minor roads. We have already delved down a few of these. One to view two old windmills atop a hill. The first was a real ruin whereas the second one had big stone mill wheels in place and old wooden peg cogs still attached to the main windmill shaft. A journey back in time that one was.

The other 'unmetalled road led down to a beautiful sheltered and sunny spot by the side of 'Rib (river) Foupana.'

"Wow Tanya! Will you just look at this for a wildcamping spot eh!"

She had jumped out as soon as we had stopped but strangely had not gone wandering off but had soon returned to Sadie. I stepped out and walked the few paces to the riverbank and just stood there taking in the warm sunshine on my back, the sound of frogs and the sight of smooth slow flowing water imparting that same slowing down back to me. Also the sensation on the legs ..... Sensation on the legs? ...... What the .... ruddy hell ......!! All of a sudden calm and peace were gone and I was jumping around while slapping at legs and brushing squillions of ants off.

The ground was crawling with them, all along this particular section of the riverbank. I don't think I have ever seen such a wide area so heavily populated by the industrious little beasties. They were everywhere and quite frankly had me amazed by their sheer number and density. I would liken it to the whole earth being a big city but one that is overcrowded to an unimaginable level. 

"My goodness Tanya they are already half way up Sadie's wheels and tyres. Time for us to exit eh!".

 And we did. Not without taking a few guests along either!! I'm still coming across the odd one or two this morning here at our lonely out of the way, but ant free, spot by a wee 'Barragem' (dam) somewhere North of Tavira on the N397. Beautiful it was last night. This morning though it is pishing down once more. I'm not worried though as it is as the forecast predicted with the rest of the week looking goodish.

We take our time on these wet mornings and I often read for a while. At present I am working my way slowly through 'Les Miserables' by Victor Hugo. I notice a remarkable coincidence. I read of the godly Bishop of D...  shunning his new Bishops Palace and instead swopping it for the much smaller hospital which is attached to said Bishops Palace. The Bishop of D ... is very much a man for, and of, the poor and an anathema to the norm of the day which was the regal pomp, sumptuousness and greed that Bishopry endowed upon it's encumbents.

So. I have a days internet access via my phone and as I catch up with world news I read of the new Pope Francis shunning his regal red cloak and exclaiming when first shown the papal apartment. 'You could get 300 poor people in here.'

"Wow!" I thinks. "The Bishop of D.... has finally reached Rome!"

Well good on yu Popey boy. You stir em up but God help you mate, and if he aint gonna help you then I guess we're all in bovver, cos you got a direct line and all that. But you definitely got one hell, if you see what I mean like, and excuse the pun, one hell of a job on you're hands!

Hmmmm! Guess I need to meditate/reflect upon that for a wee while yet ehh!! :-)

-  -  - 

TAVIRA

We like Tavira. Well actually more to rhe point we like this particular wildcamping spot just up from the beach and on the salt marsh estuary about 1 km from the town. Opposite is 'Isla de Tavira' a popular tourist spot with a passenger only ferry just up from us but on the opposite bank of a smaller river.

This will be our third night here and still not another motorhome in sight. I'm quite surprised really as there is plenty of space. Mind you once you leave the nice paved track leading to a posh hotel the track is a bit rough. I found that to my cost this morning!

The day dawned, and stayed, beautiful. An ideal beach, sunbathing and canoe day. I moved Sadie about 150m to where the track ends on the beach. There is a  turning area there and guess who was rather silly, mis-judged it and got Sadie's front end well and truly stuck in soft sand. Took me half an hour of shoveling sand, fetching and laying down rocks under her wheels before, with fingers crossed and engine revving I let the clutch in. There was a shudder and a bumping and then, thankfully she shot backwards and clear of her predicament. This by the way was much to the amusement of all the locals who were now also starting to arrive to take advantage of the fine weather and the very low tides. Bucket loads of all sorts of shellfish were seen arriving at peoples cars as the day wore on.

Once I had correctly parked Sadie I quickly filled in the deep and incriminating ruts Sadie had just extricated herself from. Hmmmm; another lesson learned. Motorhomes and soft sand are not the most supportive of companions!

Anyway; on with the day and in particular blowing up canoe, loading lunch and Tanya into it and paddling over to 'Isla de Tavira.' While over there I lugged canoe over the dunes and onto the wave ridden beaches on the Atlantic side. Now that was good fun with, I have to say, a word of caution. Blow up canoes and steep waves equal frequent rinse cycles for the guy holding the paddle. It was not long before Tanya, who during this escapade remained beach side, welcomed her bedraggled master back and trotted happily alongside as he lugged said canoe, now like himself, decidedly wet, back to the calm side of the sandspit where we stopped for a welcome lunch. Great fun even though it reminded me once again that I am not a youngster anymore. I remember windsurfing days where rinse cycles in waves were tolerated for hours on end. Half an hour today and 3 good dunkings and I was k k k knackered!!

The day before it was 'Vitineria' time for Tanya once more. She has developed a bit of an ear infection which was not getting any better. I have to say my first experience of a Portugese Vet was a good one. He was very amiable, knew his stuff and spoke a smattering of English. Hopefully the twice daily drops of medical goo plus cleaning out the ear with cotton wool buds will do the trick. Tanya of course does not like the treatment but she does seem a little less agitated today and is once again starting to flap her ears noisily and normally.

-  -  -

Saturday March 23. Another wet day unfortunately with the forecast not looking good for travelling onward in a westward direction. I'm on a campsite for 3 days. The rain is not helpful when the plan is to catch up on washing drying etc. However; I am aware all of you back there in the UK are having it far worse than me with heavy snow, flooding etc.

Guess I'll stay down hear a for maybe just a wee while yet!

The last bits of Spain ..... for now.

"I guess that last shrug of the shoulders means; be it on your head then foreign hombre" I muttered this to myself as 'Mi Capitana' of the wee ferry across the 'Guadalqivir river' at 'Coria del Rio' gave an accomplished yawn and strolled back down the slipway to ferry the next load across.

To give him his due he had spotted me waiting and left his ferry to tell me the slipway on the opposite bank was steeper than this side and prone to damage anything with an overhang at the back. We managed language wise between us to decide he would take the by now loaded ferry across while I pumped up Sadie's airbags to give greater rear end clearance. This technique plus the hefty towbar slung underneath Sadie's delicate plastic rear end has on several occasions saved the day and any possible damage.

Thus it proved on this occasion too. There was a scrunch as we boarded when towbar bottomed slightly. No concern to me but excited rearward looks and increased Spanish chatter from all the moped mounted homeward bound agricultural workers. Admittedly there was a louder even more exciting scrunch as we disembarked but again no problems with plenty of throttle giving a brisk, determined and smooth transit to dry land. I stopped up the road to deflate the airbags and check for any damage. None at all on Sadie and I certainly was not going to walk back to check the ferry! These occasions serve to remind me how lucky I was when I purchased Sadie. All these little extras which had been added, and which I did not appreciate at the time, have proved to be invaluable during our travels.

The ferry crossing was not on the map. Well; not until after the event that is, at which point I examined the map in more detail with the magnifying glass! We had done our usual, got off the main roads and gone rural. This also enabled us to avoid the large metropolis of Seville as we negotiated 'Parque Nacional de Donana' just north of 'Sanlucar de Barrameda.'  This huge low lying area of river 'Guadalquivir' estuary  marshland tends to be much sought out by birdwatchers as it is a major birdy type motorway service area on the migratory route of numerous birds. Certainly there were some fantastic big Heron like birds flying around who seemed to be continually having to protect nests from gulls and some other predatory hawk like bird.

Flamingos too. A huge flock of them espied while Tanya and I were on a forward scouting mission on the bike to check if the track/road was motorhomable. It was albeit slowly!! A lovely 2 days were enjoyed in this area completely on our own apart from one ranger gently reminding me the area is a 'Parque Nacional' and as such no camping is allowed. Very tactful he was as it was morning and pretty obvious that I had been there all night. He did not raise the subject so neither did I.

After the excitement of the ferry we kicked main road tarmac for a while and stopped for a wet wet night on the side of a wide gravel track about 10k short of Huelva on the other side of Donana Parque at a soulless resort called 'Matalascanas.'

Right now, Wed March 13 at 10am it is sunny but cool and we are neatly hidden behind some bushes which render us out of sight of the busy road about 200m away. We are just West of 'Punta Umbria' and deep within sand dunes where I can see the Atlantic washing in over the numerous shallow sandbanks. We've been out for an early morning walk along the beach. As usual we just kept walking and did miles more than originally intended. Really good though feeling the cobwebs of the mind lifting as the beauty of the morning unfolds.

I miss Kate on these walks probably more than at any other time. However; as Buddhist Psychology points out. 'Examine thought for reality.' Yes true, and I have to admit most 'beach walking' Kate and I enjoyed, and as such the root of these arisen memories, were on similar beaches but in really hot June/July weather and with little clothing on.

The reality. A March morning at 8am on a sunny and gorgeous looking Spanish beach wrapped up in scarf and big warm coat against the bitter North West wind whipping down and sandblasting you.

Reality is also Tanya simply delighting in this environment and doing 10k for every 5k of mine. She, Tanya that is, and her delight on these beach walks is the continuation of the love Kate and I shared. Kate, either consciously or not, new what she was doing bringing Tanya into our lives. I could not wish for a more loving and understanding companion for my travels.

Yes that's right, I did say understanding ..... she has to be as she listens so patiently and attentively to all my frequent idiotic drivels and ramblings. I am afraid the reality is that now I would quickly drive a real wife bonkers!

Ah well; back to present time and even more reality. S'ppose I had better wash up, wash myself and make the bed etc. Mmmmm, warming up now too. Guess then it'll be time for coffee outside in the sun. Gosh by then it should be lunch time. 

"Tanya. I gotta a kind of feelin we aint gonna be movin from here today. Whaddya reckon?   ..... Tanya ...... TAANYAA ......"  Oh! there she is over there among the dunes .... tail up and happy as a travellin dune surfin doggy can be."

-  -  -  -

I did not remain alone in the dunes for long as up rolled 'Lord Liberty', an older and bigger motorhome who discharged 2 young family's where Mums and Dads sported dreadlocks but who, though Belgian, spoke good English. They were all just great company and even there 1yr old Collie called Monty was tolerated well and became quite good company for Tanya.

Canoe was soon out and on the water. I had fun paddling around with Tanya across the tidal channel to the exposed at low tide sandbanks. However; I have to admit to having even more fun as I watched these two swarthy dreadlocked, bearded and fully clothed Dads towing their respective daughters around in the canoe and of course getting totally sea soaked themselves in the process. 

"No worry heh, n great fun" were the jist of the comments as canoe and bedraggled Dads appeared over the dunes some considerable time after young daughters had toddled back along the beach to their Mums. It has been a real privilege to share time with them. It may continue too as they also are Portugal bound and share the same taste in wildcamping sites as myself.

Guess we could quite easily bump into 'Lord Liberty' again.

Rain. Rollerblades & Costa de la Luz.

"Sixty km and they do'nt have the right adaptor. What we gonna do now Tanya?" 

The Repsol garage in Marbella was right there in front of us Exactly as predicted by Mrs Satnav. 'You have reached your destination.' She helpfully added. 

"Thank you Mrs Sat nav." I say as we draw up alongside the LPG pump ready to replenish our gas supply. 

I walk into the service shop and the young girl, anticipating my request, lays out the adaptors on the counter. All bar the one I need that is. In her broken English she shrugs and says; 

"Yes. I ave want lots time Euro adapteur. Boss say manyana get one. He no do." 

In reply, and in my excellent Spanish, I say; "No worry girl. Gimme two wash tokens and two drier tokens for the lavada instead."

 Well it was raining, we'd come a long way and these lavadas (Laundrettes) attached to some Repsol garages have really good industrial type washing machines with a thirty minute cycle that seems to do a good job. Not being able to replenish my one nearly empty gas bottle was not too much of a disaster as we are headed Cadiz way where there is another refill point. Mind you if they have no adaptor Stevey boy could be in a bit of bovver then.

So; back to Algeciras for the evening with all clean clothes and bedding. A drive I was glad to see the back of as the rain was torrential. A few days earlier I had noticed cars parked on the river bed as I drove over the big wide bridge. That river bed was now in full flow. I presume the car owners were local and moved them. If they did'nt then those cars should be well on their way to Morrocco by now!

I've been hanging round the Gibralter/Algeciras area for two reasons. One is I need to decide whether I am going over to Morocco or not. Two; I have a rotten cold which has laid me low physically and mentally. I guess it matches the weather which, according to the charts is here to stay for a week or so and is fairly widespread, even to Northern Morocco. So there was no driving out of it. Best to just find a quiet spot and sit it out.

Today, however; which is Tuesday March 5, we have made a move. Not far but quite significant as we have moved from the Med to the Atlantic coast. Tarifa to be specific. We are wild in a parking area much favoured by Kite Surfers for which this area is a mecca. Wow! They are fun to watch and I would love to have a go. The area is a huge sandy Atlantic facing beach stretching for miles.

Tomorrow we'll take a bike ride into Tarifa itself. Who knows I might just enquire as to how much a beginners Kite surfing course costs for a doddery old UK pensioner. (nearly anyway .... only one more month to go .... is it 'whoopee' or is it ...  'omg! am  I really THAT old'!) If nothing else it will give some cool Spanish surfing dude the laugh of his life as he grasps fully the incredulous stupidity of the weird looking old British guy stood in front of him.

"Hey Juan, Juan, look look at this scruffy old hombre, he has a dog with a beard attached to him and he wants to skim across the foaming Atlantic ocean while hanging onto one of our rather large, but everso colourful, blow up kites!
Tell him Juan, tell him, I have no kite boards with bath chairs attached!!".

Exit shop leaving cool Spanish surfing dude and Juan holding each other up lest the uncontrollable belly laughter they are both exhibiting at their own joke should floor them.

-  -  -  -
Next day.

You know there is something very satisfying about waking up in a motorhome as it gently rocks in gusty Atlantic force 4 to 5' winds; especially after a night of sporadic, and at times quite fierce, squally showers. The experience is enhanced by a cup of tea, opening up the blinds on Sadie's panoramic windscreen and then going back to bed to watch the huge waves crashing and foaming in across the expanse of sandy beach laid out before us.

Well that was 2 hours ago. We are now up, Tanya has been walked, I'm showered and breakfasted and outside the Kite-surfers are starting to arrive in force. There is a large area of flat water between the shallow dunes just in front of Sadie and the the gentle convex hump of flat wave washed sand which takes the full force of the Atlantic fury. A couple of brave souls have crossed this divide and are out there amid the foaming mass of breakwater. The majority however, are sticking to the large shallow flat water strip and are skimming along at incredible speed.. There is leaping high into the air as well with somersaults performed while hanging beneath the colourful seagull wing shaped Kite sails.

I guess the bike ride into Tarifa is not going to happen. No laughs for Cool Spanish surfing dude. I think they are all out here anyway. There is a van with a couple being tutored just in front of me. A young fit couple. No sign of doddery old pensioners. Yeeeees! I think this old pensioner is quite happy to stay for today and watch the action.

"C'mon Tanya lets get the doddery old pensioner's wetproof gear on and go for a long trek across the dunes, which conveniently has a lovely walkway stretching away into the distance. There you are see, pensioners catered for as well!
-   -   -   -
About 3 days later

We've had a day of sunshine! Yippeeee! Mind you, right now, at 2000hrs here in 'Chipiona' North of Cadiz it is once again pishing down! My German neighbour tells me it is going to stay wet n windy all day tomorrow too. However; it is also 23 degrees which is OK!

Morocco is for next year. Not sure why really. Bit of nervousness, cannot be bothered, looked as bleak and wet as it was in Tarifa. Don't really know. All I do know is all of a sudden we moved and started travelling up toward Cadiz along the 'Costa de la Luz'.

Very different. Undeveloped, very 'Spanish' and not too friendly to 'Acamparcar' either with notices all over banning you from parking and indicating; 'this municipality has campsites which you are kindly directed to.' "OK" I thought I'll respect that. I did too until the first one I was 'directed to' turned out to be closed. So I wildcamped in the port area of 'Barbate' instead but got moved off that pitch by a very apologetic 'Policia Puerta' gentleman in a nice green uniform, peaked cap and sub machine gun!

I sort of expected it so was not too worried. There was a large area of open ground opposite the port so I moved there and was not troubled again. Interestingly as I walked Tanya the next morning we had to negotiate our way around a rather large pile of straw liberally dosed with elephant droppings in order to get to a forest park. Turns out just up from us was a circus in their winter quarters. When we left a little later large pile of straw also contained contents of Sadies Thetford cassette. I only needed two elephant doo daas to cover it all up. Brilliant!

We got to Cadiz today. The original intention was to park up somewhere in bike range of the city and spend the day there. Surprisingly it was easy to drive right into, and around, the centre and the attractive old city and port area.  What was not easy was to park a largish motorhome. We did find one spot but it was on a narrow street with a busy flow of traffic going by. I risked it as Tanya was itching for a walk and donning rollerblades we did, a first for us, a rollerblade walk along part of the 'Playa de Cortadura' seafront prom.

Yes Rollerblades! We keep ending up on all these wonderful long smooth promenades and seeing 'young things' rollerblading effortlessly along them.

"Well, its just as daft as kite surfing but on balance slightly more achievable" says I.

Also it was a wet and fed up type of day there at Algeciras next door to the huge retail park with a 'Decathlon' discount sports store just inviting us in. And there they were. Black shiny with easy whizz round wheels and all for €39.00 knocked down from €89.00. Fraid they very quickly became mine courtesy of Mr Mastercard!

Doing the Tanya walk was the most adventurous I've been on them so far. In fact I'm still a bit shaky on them really but they are good and I'm sure with a little more practise I too will be whizzing efforessly along all the wide and smooth promenades. Alternativly I could be ........ Nahhhhh! not really. I'm being everso everso careful. Honest!

Anyway back to Cadiz. We could not stay in the 'unsuitable' parking spot for more than an hour so we moved on till we realized that any suitable parking was so far out as to make a bike visit impractical. So we continued on to 'Jerez de la Frontera' where Mrs Satnav very accurately directed us to a Repsol garage with LPG AND the correct adaptor for filling. From there it was but a short hop to 'Chipiona' where espied on the seafront right by the harbour were three other motorhomes.

"That'll do us Tanya eh!" I said as we neatly reversed in at respectable distance from my neighbour.
-   -   -
Next morning.

'Gosh I am k k ker-nackered'. The sun is shining and we have discovered we are at the port end of about a 6km long smooth and well maintained promenade. Surfers were out, churchgoers were emptying out and strolling along and there, in the middle of it all was this foreigner with a pair of sandals hanging round his neck careering along on rollerblades with a little black dog trying to keep up with him. He was a bit wobbly at times too.

The good side to this story is I did not fall on my arse once. I also, at times, seemed to be whizzing along just like them there young things I mentioned earlier. The locals, curiously, seemed to love stopping and staring goggle eyed at this spectacle. They then repeated this goggle eyed scenario as 20m further on they came across a miniature Schnauzer with pink tongue hanging out trotting along on 3 or 4 legs, as is her want, trying to keep up with the crazy foreigner.

Ho hum. All things possible when living the life of a wanderer!!

Ronda and a 'not a road'.

Ronda is all it's cracked up to be. Most impressive. Look it up on the www. However; it was cold. Freezing at night with a wicked NE wind. The sun was out though and Tanya and I enjoyed a good explore. We saw all the touristy bits and worked our way back to Sadie via the crowded narrow streets full of all sorts of wee shops. I'm afraid they did not get much trade from me. I would have stopped for a bite to eat but a cold and blustery Tuesday evening in February seems to mean closed restaurants around all the touristy parts. Everywhere else seemed to be bars with the usual knots of men plus their beer. I certainly did not fancy a Big Mac which of course was open.

The big 'China City' warehouse next to us at our edge of town parking spot did get some trade however. I could not resist a browse around the cavernous interior with it's shelves full of everything you need for whatever, whenever and of course stuff to buy when really you don't need a damm thing! I came out with a fold flat step. Admittedly something I've been on the look out for to enable me to reach those bits of Sadie that lie just beyond stretched fingertips atop toppy toes. It works too and folds/stores neatly away.

Ronda slowly dropped behind us as we headed down the main road toward 'Algeciras'. Main road did I say? Well; you know how I dislike main roads dont you! So when the mountain road to 'Farajan', 'Jubrique' and finally to the main road again at 'Algatocin' , presented itself invitingly, even though I had given myself a serious talking to about; "for once Steve, lets just do main roads eh?" I just sort of drifted onto it. Well before you could say 'Spanish mountain goat sh*t' there we were soaring. Flying in fact. Really it was like that. High up on ziggy zaggy roads and looking down on tiny whitewashed mountain villages clinging to hillsides way way below us.

"Wow! Am I glad we came this way Tanya. This is something else!"

Only the 'something else' turned out to be also way way below us at the bottom of the mountain where of course we eventually had to go. At first it was not too bad. A narrowing road with evidence of landslips and various bits of tarmac sliding away on the inside of some of the tighter bends. The first ford was fun and had good tarmac on both sides.

Then the tarmac disappeared. Some could occasionally be seen buried under the landslips from the steep banks of unstable ground here at the valley bottom. The road followed the river and criss crossed it in several places. We were in rough track and pothole territory which was passable and thankfully dry apart from the fords. There were vehicle tracks to follow. My surmising was as follows; 

"It's a bloody long way back, this is risky but fun,  Tanya has already figured out I'm crazy, soooo .... as long as it stays dry and the track is not completely blocked ..... What the hell lets go for it!"

The valley bottom was slow. I had to fill one large pothole in the middle of a ford with stones and on another, a wee bit of levelling with my spade was required before Sadie bumpilly sailed across.

Then, as you do, we started uphill. What can I say except never again will I doubt Sadies ability and willingness to join me in the game called ... 'lets pretend we're a 4wd Landrover and go where only 4wd Landrovers are supposed to go!' Tarmac on this section was unheard of and steep narrow and dodgy looking bends were briefly reconoitred with Sadie being then flung at them in first gear. She never failed and grunted round and through them spitting out bits of mountainside from her rear wheels to go tumbling away to the valley bottom which, very slowly was being placed way way below us again.

There was 6km of this slow heart in the mouth, not for motorhomes, stupid even to try, track through the mountains before finally, with a whoop of joy and relief we hit tarmac again. It stayed hairy till we hit 'Jubrique' where normal service was resumed. Quite boring really!!

We overnighted on a flat wide gravel track between a railway and the river further on down the main road. There was an unbelievable, almost frightening thunderstorm overnight. Tanya trembled with fear while cuddled up as close as she could get to me under the duvet. I just lay there and thanked the various Gods & Godess's for letting us get clear of the mountains before putting on this tremendous show of force. I felt sure the thunderous torrents of rain drumming on Sadies roof would also be washing numerous fresh landslips across the rough tracks we had slowly negotiated during the day.

-  -  -

We arrived at 'La Linea de la Concepcion' today. Bike was unloaded, passport stuffed into pocket and Gibralter here we come. 43 years ago I was here on HMS Eagle. Nostalgia.