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.