15 Mar 2014

Tanya, the beach walk & Portugal.


I was concentrating really hard you see. The tide had not gone out quite far enough and so cycling westwards along this stretch of the 'Barria el Rompidu' was difficult. The barrier was simply a large sand dune spit stretching Eastwards from 'La Antilla' where Sadie was parked. it was created by the 'River Piedras' flowing into the sea.

Yesterday we had cycled all the way into 'Isla Christina' along the delightful cycle tracks that wound through the dunes and among the Pine trees. It had entailed quite a bit of walking too as the soft shifting sand covered the path in places and was impossible to cycle on as you will know if you have ever tried it. After a mediocre lunch and coffee we set off back along the beach. The tide was well out and the flat hard sand down by the tidal line was easy to cycle on. It was miles and miles of beach so Tanya alternated between running along the beach then hitching a ride in her green taxi bucket on the back of the bike.

Today though was different. We had cycled East as far as we could go, or so I thought. I locked the bike up and we walked off into the dunes for a bit of all over sunbathing plus swim in the sea. We walked deeper into the dunes on our return and found a cycle track travelling Eastwards along the sand spit. Well it was not long before we were merrily spinning along it on the bike with the result that about 20 minutes later we were virtually at the end of the spit. So far so good and it was beautiful with not a soul in sight. In fact the whole area has a bit of a ghost town feel to it. It is very much a resort for the Spanish and, I am reliably informed, does not even start to come to life until May or June. Huge great hotels with mile upon mile of wide sea front promenade and cafes every few hundred metres. All shut, closed, gone home and empty apart from the odd maintenance workers and the small local fishing area in the middle. Good for us motorhomers though as huge empty beach side parking areas are there for the taking with the local police nowhere in sight.

So there I was miles from Sadie and at the end of this 'Barrier de El Rompidu.'
"I know." I say to myself. "We'll do the same as yesterday and cycle back along the beach.

" Hmmmm! I never learn do I". 

We'd just cycled along a lovely fast, level and bendy hard surfaced track which would have been good fun to cycle back on. But no. Oh no! Steve tromps down to the waters edge. Stamps his foot in the sand a couple of times and pronounces it cyclable. Well that bit was! the rest would have been too if I had been an hour later and the tide had gone out further. By now though the sun was behind grayish clouds and there was a coolish breeze blowing. We set off. Tanya running the beach and me concentrating hard on finding that narrow strip of cyclable sand between the sea and soft upper beach sand. It was hard work with low gear engaged and legs working like pistons on a fast steam train.

"This aint good." I thought to myself. 

I looked ahead and gained some encouragement as I espied in the far shimmering distance the start of the beach side villas which meant tarmac road leading to promenade leading eventually to Sadie. Head down, concentrate, keep pumping!

Then OMG! Where's Tanya? 

I immediately stop and look back toward the horizon along the miles of beach. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I turn the bike round resolved to start cycling back even though I could feel my legs protesting loudly. Wait a minute what is that? I thought at first it was a trick of the light but no, a tiny black dot appears right at the edge of the distant gray haziness. This tiny black dot slowly takes on a  familiar bobbing up and down movement. Soon I can just make out ears flopping up and down as she steadily runs along trying to catch up with me. 

Phew! What a relief!

She finally makes it, flops down exhausted on the sand about a metre from me. She then gives me a look which translated  clearly as; 

"I'm f****d. What the hell d'you do that for?"

 Mind you. After a short rest, a drink of fresh water which I always carry for her, and a slow walk on toward the distant buildings another dog plus owner appears. Poor exhausted Tanya is suddenly tearing up and down the beach again in hot pursuit of puppy Labrador. 

"Hmmmph" I mutter as I once again start the leg pistons pumping pedal to push bike through softish sand and on toward the still distant vision of tarmac and easier cycling. I did keep an eye on Tanya this time though and I think she had learned her lesson too as she kept close. Boy was I glad to reach tarmac. I loaded a panting Tanya into her green taxi and set off again on the lovely level, easy peasy tarmac. I tell you. We slept well that night!
-  -  -
Portugal. Yes we are now by the beach near 'Tavira'. The spot is familiar and is down by 'Forte do Rato', which contrary to expectation translates as 'Fort of  mouse'. Rat is 'ratazana'. Errr no! My Portuguese language skills are still the same as my Spanish language skills. Non existent. This bit of translation was via the interesting English version of the 'East Algarve Magazine'.

This is a beautiful spot but once again busier than last year when I spent several days here as the one and only motorhome. There are 7 of us down here at the moment. Lovely couple from Scotland just up from me. Always good to get some chat. Canoe has been out, swims have been enjoyed and if the weather holds I'll probably stay here for a few more days.



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