Isolation & a sore paw

It is hard to describe where we are at present. A beautiful and very isolated spot. Maybe it is that very isolation and its accompanying twin, meditative solitude, I am finding hard to describe. I do know that I crave, love and regularly seek out 'alone-ness'. Often I am disappointed if I cannot find such places. Mindfulness within nothingness amid the 'everything-ness' of wilderness is, for me, a pre-requisite for fullness of being.  I promised that on this trip I would not disappear into such solitude and isolation of wilderness due to family and friends concern in respect of my heart grumblings. So far I feel we have done well on that score with nearly every night up to this point in time being spent in company of other Motorhomes. I will add however that even though I may have been in company that company was in some beautiful spots too. On the whole motorhomers are a respectful bunch where 'alone-ness' is concerned.

Yesterdays travels found us high in the agricultural and jumbled quarrying hinterland East of 'Murcia' and to the back of 'Alicante'. We were well away from the busy coastal strip. We were leisurely traversing small roads where, as per usual, no other motorhomes seem to travel. Cherry tree orchards are just now starting to colour the countryside with pink effervescent blossom while the vast dusty dry agricultural plain is dotted with mountain outcrops scarred by decades of slicing off and polishing up kitchen worktops and shiny granite floors.

Stopping for the night in such areas is never an issue. We choose a tiny local road and a suitable spot is soon presented. Sometimes it can be an abandoned crumbling Cortijo where if you look around you soon spy the smart new bungalow the former Cortijo occupier has promoted him/her/them selves to. This time though we came across a dis-used rail track with vehicular access to our spot where further travel is denied by locked stanchion. Only cyclists and walkers are permitted to continue.

Bike was soon off the rack and off we went down the slight gradient rail track and through five dark tunnels (Good job I took a torch!) We decided enough was enough just after a quite impressive viaduct. The cycle-walk back was easier than I thought and Tanya ran most of the way back nuzzling her nose up to my legs through the darkest parts of the tunnels.

Two days later we moved on but not before the spot was logged within Mrs Satnav as a favourite. In those two days a total of four cyclists and two walkers were our only fleeting visitors. They all without exeption, seemed surprised to see us as they passed by.

Unfortunately poor Tanya must have damaged her front paw during her long walk/run. She is hobbling about pathetically at present with an old sock of mine velcroed onto her leg to stop her licking off the Witch Hazel cream liberally applied to a visibly raw and very sore patch on her paw. At least it has the benefit of slowing me down even further. No bad thing.

Next stop Havea (or Javea or even Xabia) down by the coast for laundry, (I'm down to my last shirt) gas top up and then back up into the hills to visit good friends Lenny and Win in their new home/smallholding.

Strawberry Flan + more

Strawberry Flan

"I've got to have some of that Eve", 

Said Allan to his wife as he observed how I was tucking in to one of Mark's speciality's. Mark was quickly summoned over, he knowingly obliged and orders rapidly arrived at table.

Mark was owner and chef of the very relaxed and welcoming Dancers Bar at 'Burriana' beach, near 'Nerja'. What I was tucking into was a rather large portion of excellent home made Strawberry flan where the sweet juicy fruits snugly nestled amid their bed of creme brulee itself set upon delicate and perfectly cooked pastry. Gosh it was delicious. This was food to challenge the healthiest of hearts. Definitly a no no for me but heh! Life is nought but a strawberry tart temptation and I am a healthy (well sort of)  human being with full working complement of instant gratification weakness's.

I'd met up with Eve and Allan (well you try saying it the other way round.) a few days earlier in Dancers Bar as I enjoyed coffee and Wi Fi access. During the conversation Eve had mentioned that Mark's Sunday roast lunches were simply the best. I thought no more of it at the time as I planned to move on. However; such hinted at ideas, or Eve temptations, take on a life of their own deep in the mind. They linger, mature then ripen into action which saw me make a quick return on Saturday via the A7/E15 motorway and book myself in for a one thirty pm Sunday roast dinner. Eve and Allan were already seated as I arrived and kindly invited me to join them.

A choice of Beef, Gammon, or Chicken plus all the trimmings with the Parsnips roasted in honey being to die for. We were all three of us suitably stuffed after such a feast. Eve and Allan, quite rightly so, declined the sweet menu. Mention of home made Strawberry flan did it for me though and I ordered one. The rest is history. Eve and Allan, still wielding evidence removing table napkins, consoled themselves by promising, once again, dieting would definitely start the moment they returned home to the Isle of Wight. Problem being their return is not until March!
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General opinion down here seems to be this is the coldest Jan/Feb for about ten years. I can vouch for the last two years being warmer from personal experience. It is still bright and sunny though and warmth can be found out of the wind. I can vouch for that too as I enjoyed my first strip off and sunbathe at a sheltered beach just by 'Almunecar'. I was not alone either as much German flesh, complete with bobbly white bits, was on display all over the small but lovely little beach.
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The N340 used to be the main Costa del Sol coastal road until superseded by the amazing viaduct and tunnel wonder of the A7/N15 motorway. It is now a quiet but equally amazing cliff hugging road travelling East. Tonight I am in 'Adra' in the midst of the highly intensive plastic covered agricultural area around 'Almeria'. There are lots of Motorhomes here in a  parking area just behind the beach. I would have preferred to stop at one of the many cliff top wild spots I espied on the way. But with the very strong wind doing its best to push me over the edge into the wild and foaming sea far below, discretion and safety became more important. Not that it is not blowy here in 'Adra' but all four wheels are firmly planted on level tarmac and a line of trees are giving some relief from the rather savage gusts.
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Today though; well today has been all you could wish for from a Mediterranean February. No wind, glassy sea and a gorgeously warm sun.  

I'm a little further East, still very much in plastic greenhouse land, at 'Almerimar'. The marina here, it was explained to me by a guy from Portsmouth who lives with his partner on their sailing ketch, is cheap due to its headland location leading to frequent strong winds caused in part by rising heat from the surrounding hundreds of hectares of shiny plastic drawing in cooler sea air. The marina supplements its income from the many motorhomes, us included, it parks on the harbourside. All very civilized and social and all in all rather pleasant. Especially when weather plays ball as well.

Harbour master says rain tomorrow... Hmmph!
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Harbourmaster was right too. The rain duly pattered down on and off till about three this afternoon. That was OK though as by then we had stumbled upon the delightful and unspoiled 'La Isleta'. A tiny little fishing village in the hilly and Spaghetti Western type of country East of 'Almeria' known as 'Sierra del Cabo de Gata'. Just a sprinkling of vans here. Rogero and his wife Andy were one of them. Fluent English speaking German X boaters who were well into their seventies. I was enthralled as I listened to this fifty two years married couple tell me their story. A story of how once children had flown the nest they sold everything up, flew to the USA, bought a sailing boat and spent the next twelve years sailing the 'Americas'. They did not return once to Germany in all that time. Not until health and having their boat stolen in Venuzuela forced them to do so. Enough to knock you back into genteel and safe retirement you would think. Me coming across them in their camper van in the wild West of Spain tells another story though. A story both encouraging and uplifting.

Pure Brilliant & Alicia

"Wow! that was pure brilliant Tanya, pure brilliant!!"

I think she agreed too as she reached out and gave me one of her nose lick/kisses while being unhooked and lifted out of her green bucket/taxi on the back of our bike.

Today was the first time my trusty bike has been unloaded and used on this trip. Health-wise I've been nervous and have stuck to walking. I'm feeling better though. I think my health has improved which vindicates my self diagnosis and self administered prescription for all things Mediteranean.

'Nerja'. East of Malaga is where we are, Another favourite place. There is safe parking on the edge of town in a dirt patch down by the river five minutes walk from the beach. Not salubrious but adequate and quiet enough for Tanya to wander around freely. I was nervous at first as no other motorhomes were here, unlike last year when ten to twelve were on this same site all the time. I thought this year local police were maybe moving motorhomes on. It seems not so. I've been here three days with no problem and no sight of police or other motorhomes. Suits me fine.

Bike came off its rack and we set off for a gentle bike walk using the level cycle ways and beach side promenades. Turned out to be a big success which included a light lunch out at a beachside restaurant. We ended up cycling quite a long way westwards on the dead level and easy beachside track.

Right, I thought to myself. I'm not going to push my luck so it's back to Sadie for a rest up and cup of tea.

We did too, for over an hour, but then; well; I'd always wanted to follow the road/track up river further than the few Tanya walks we'd done. It's a good, well used track servicing riverside small holdings with veg growing, horses, and some building based businesses. And of course it very gently slopes uphill following the river bed as it wormed its way into the steep deep valleys and hills behind this narrow coastal strip.

We set off walking and pushing the bike. My idea was to walk as far as I felt comfortable knowing I had the free get out of jail card of bike plus downhill slope all the way back to Sadies door.

We soon fell in with an Irish couple out for a walk. What with chatting away and the warm late afternoon sunshine we ended up further up river than expected. I still felt really good. The Irish couple took a small road to the right which gave them a circular route back to 'Nerja'. Tanya and I continued  on to where we entered the 'Reserva Nacional de Sierra Tejeda'. Further and further we went even though by this time we were literally walking the wide flat river bed itself. Finally, the river bed narrowed entering a gorge. The path headed off steeply up to the right. Time to call a halt.

"OK Tanya, lets be having you and we'll head  back down." 

By this time she was quite happy to be offered a free ride. I can always tell as she leans herself against my leg waiting to be scooped up into her green 'taxi' bucket.

The ride back was the 'pure brilliant' bit. Gently sloping, rough and bouncy but just such fantastic fun. Down the river bed, splashing through the shallows, out of the National park, under the huge viaduct carrying the main A7/E15 coastal motorway and all the way down the well used tracks and occasional tarmac road until, swinging into the dirt parking area we arrive alongside Sadie safely awaiting us. I, for most of the way had stood tall and upright on the pedals with legs bent and acting as springs. I only had to pedal once, and very briefly at that. Tanya, even though she sits on a sponge seat and is clipped firmly in still bounces around a lot. She seems to love it, leaning out to one side with nose thrust forward and ears flapping in wind.

I've got a feeling we'll be doing that again!
- - - -
Laundry, water top up and of course the inevitable emptying of the 'black water' (toilet) cassette. Not a very exciting start to what turned out to be a delightful and very unusual 'Alicia' day.

Six kilometre's inland from 'Nerja' is the delightful hillside village of 'Frigiliana'. Sadie, after having to be negotiated through a too narrow street care of yours truly once again missing the correct turning, was finally and neatly parked. Off we went at a slow easy pace to explore this very steep, whitewashed and touristy Spanish village.

"Excuse me sir; do you know how I can get up to there?" 

The arm, i-phone in hand was pointing to a peak with what looked like a tower perched atop. It seemed from where we were standing to be directly above us albeit a long way up.

I smiled at this young Korean lady and indicated I was a tourist too. Off she went only for me to bump into her again as we, with like minds, sought out all the little roads, stairways and tracks leading upwards through the orchards and scrub pine forest. We fell in together, as you do, and finally fetched our peak with it's amazing views over village, surrounding countryside and beyond all the way down to the sea.

Alicia was a thirty year old, about to graduate, law student. She was an adventurer with a kind, open manner and youthful zest. With her trusty i-phone guide she was on a tour of Spain and Italy via local bus routes and hotels.

We chatted as we descended and it was agreed, over drinks, that she would love to ride to 'Nerja' in Sadie and would catch a later bus back to Malaga and her hotel. This was no problem as via her trusty i-phone all the relevant information was there for the asking, or rather, button pressing.

I tell you this. It puts a real smile on your face having a young and very excited Korean lady bouncing excitedly up and down in her ladyship Tanya's seat for a few kilometre's. 

"This new experience for me, this first time ever in motorhome. Wooo hooo!!"

We spent a lovely afternoon and evening around 'Nerja' before Tanya and I waved goodbye as her bus pulled away from the stop not two minutes from Sadies safe wildcamp spot.

Different culture, different age, different worlds but the same spirit of fun and adventure . A rewarding and enriching day. May you travel on safely Alicia.