On my way from Santandar through Spains central plains I committed a motorhomers cardinal sin on a very wet night while camped in the middle of nowhere. There was a rain swollen river ten metres away where I proceeded to empty my black water (toilet) cassette directly into the fast flowing swollen brown torrent. River, although extremely busy, was well aware of such a disgusting action being Inflicted upon her. A big no no in basic river and human lore. She immediately took umbrage and swift revenge followed. On my 'black water' cassette is a plastic sliding cover flap. Sometimes this can slide a little too easily which is exactly what it did this time. Only it did it rather well and slid completely off and away into the swiftly moving watery arms of river. Was I cross? Well yes I was but there was nothing could be done and I could hear loud and clear;
"Serves you right" being shouted mockingly at me by river.
My black water cassette still functioned but not quite so effectively. I determined two things. One; I would never again break the rules as far as emptying black water cassettes goes. Two; I determined to make a temporary cover out of wood or plastic as getting another one was out of the question until I returned to the UK.
So I am at 'Cullera' motorhome stopover with my handy bit of plastic from the local Chinese, we've got everything, bazaar. This was going to be modified to fit my toilet cassette. Only it was not happening quite as easily as I had envisioned. After drawing blood from number two minor cut I decided to abandon and think again. I called Tanya and we set off to walk around this huge free campsite. I ended up chatting to Colin from Weston Super Mare. I regaled him with my tale of misdemeanours and woe and was astounded when he said.
"I've got one of those covers in my van. Been there for two years it has. You're very welcome to have it".
Never does it cease to amaze me the capacity of 'it' to take away and then return. There are quite a few UK vans here. Even so, the chance of randomly meeting a fellow English speaking motorhomer with a spare Thetford cassette sliding plastic cover in his van has to be near zero on the scale of probability. As I've said several times before in my various blogs. I'm some lucky old codger who is, I am sure, being looked after by ... 'someone' .... just don't ask me who, what, where or why.
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I'm having a slow morning here at Cullera. A slow 'headache recovery' morning. Not as you maybe would presume though. There is no rowdy alcoholic night on the tiles to regale you with even though I am one of about two hundred motorhomes on this huge beachside wild camping spot. We've chosen to be on the edge of it, next to the beach in a quiet spot where Tanya can run free. The sun is out, it is 20° and altogether rather pleasant, even with a headache.
My headache is a cheese headache. A Pizza cheese headache to be precise. Very nice it was too cooked up in my little oven to crusty brown edge perfection. I share the crunchy edge with Tanya but woe betide if there is tomato on it. That guarantees an off tummy Tanya the next day. No problems this time though, it's myself suffering.
Poor me you may say. Not at all I reply. You see there is an upside to my headaches these days. Very unlike my twenty five years of blinding, barbed wire round the head, debilitating migraines. Migraines which plunged you headlong into periods of deep 'black dog' mental lowness, lethargy, depression and sometimes worse. Where paracetamol, aspirin and the likes had no effect and where you became accustomed to grinding your teeth, digging heels in and going on because, well I had to. There was family, job and all the usual pressures of a young to middle age, always short of money, family man. My intimate relationship with such migraines persisted right up to my heart attack (that's another story) in 2005. They then miraculously disappeared. I was literally born again. A new life which came with a clear, pain free head.
That is why now, when I get the occasional self inflicted headache I am reminded how fortunate I am to no longer be under any pressure to 'perform' be somewhere or, dare I say it, get out of bed. It reminds me of those difficult years when life itself, at times, had little meaning or value.
I cannot stress highly enough the beautiful sense of wellbeing greeting me now on waking even if I am headachy and dull brained. You see; I know there is nothing, absolutely nothing, preventing me from stopping completely to allow headache, in its own time, to have its fun and then be on its way. This is usually a three to four hour process, with help from paracetamol which, since my heart attack is now effective.
So please forgive me if ever you have specific plans, deadlines, or ideas which involve me and I appear a little vague or elusive. Enough said eh!
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Burriana and 'Alemi' the new 'Mexicana Fusion' restaurant owned and run by Jurate and Sergio. I spent three days in and around Burriana eating very well indeed at the restaurant. It is early days yet but custom is steady enough to cover overheads and I feel the quality of the food itself will ensure a steady increase of loyal returning customers.
I have also yet to find anywhere with tastier or juicier Mandarins than those picked directly by Sergio and myself right on the edge of Burriana. Yuuummmmy!
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While in that area bike was employed and a wonderful day was had in and around Valencia. The Opera and surrounding exhibition buildings were just stunning.
