Moments & Mike.

Snow covered Pyrenees fill my distant view. Rolling forested hills dotted with attractive villas and vineyards are my near view. To the right, and below, of me a shuttered up small holiday home or someone's much loved weekend retreat. If there had been signs of occupation, then out of respect, I would not have parked here in this conveniant little pull in by their entrance gateway. As it is I can see no one else as Foxy10 sits neatly in her wee saddle on this ridge of hills between 'Oloron st Marie' and 'Pau' here in SW France.
I'm sat next to wildflowers with the only sound being the buzz of myriad insects as they pursue their daily business. Which; by the way entails a nasty nip at one of my ankles causing the usual swelling and itching.
Wild camping spots such as this are precious. I never hurry and always give time for reflection. Time for reflection on my good fortune, family, health and sufficient wealth. All, plus more, the ingredients granting me in this my third age, such precious moments.

No more so than this very moments contemplating of distant snow covered peaks reflecting the sun which warmed both Tanya and I as we basked in its bright healing rays. The thought popping up in such moments is always, share; share this moment in all its awesomeness. This blog entry is an attempt at that sharing, which of course it can never be. As a photograph only ever captures a specific nanosecond of part of the whole picture, so also my attempt at sharing. I can only give you an approximation of my 'moment'. You can only relate to it by recalling similar, and by definition, different, from your own store of 'moments'.

One of the joys/gifts of my life has been an ability to listen to others as they recount their own moments. Those listening skills were honed and had a keen sharp edge during my years as a mental health wellbeing practitioner (Counsellor). Even now I still love to listen but have noticed that now I no longer enjoy the continuous professional training and support, the bubbling up of my own 'need to tell of my moment' , is harder to supress.

For me, these precious and joyful moments contain strong connecting energy and value. They demand I give due time, consideration, reflection and meditation to them. If I don't I feel I am not honouring or respecting previous generations who gave so much to enable my present 'moments' fortunate circumstances. Nor am I honouring or respecting those present generations who are, for whatever reason, suffering bleak, joyless moments.
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Well that was reflection and now its cutting hedges and shifting furniture. After a slow meander across this most beautiful part of SW France I am at 'Vers'. It is a gorgeous and very small French village right on the banks of the River Lot where it  conjoins with the 'Vers' tributary. There is a lovely, laid back, Aire here and also, if you want to pay a bit more money, a Municipal, and also laid back, campsite right on riverside. I'm here helping Mike, whom I met earlier this year in Spain. He has just signed on the dotted line for a ridiculously cheap, but liveable in, typical old style French village house. The place is huge and on three levels with the main two bedroom, bathroom, living room, kitchen and terrace at the roadside level with multiple rooms and potential below. I helped yesterday by trimming his roadside hedge and firing up his quite modern hot water/heating system. Boy was that cooling swim in the deep pools of the Vers welcome in the 31°c heat of the day. Today it's moving furniture down from his temporary rented Jite. However; he needs very little as at some time the house must have been rented out as a Jite with all the furniture, pots and pans, white goods and even a car trailer included in the purchase. And the price? About the same as I paid for Foxy10 in pounds Sterling. I am tempted, really tempted and one day...... well who knows. My wandering lifestyle suits me just now whereas Mike has family, friends and his artistic community in this area. For him a good and financially sensible move. For me another good friend and beautiful place to visit.

Virgins, millponds & a love affair.

Alone by the side of a track in the rolling plains overlooking 'Segovia' and its magnificent cathederal.

"Ahhh; that's better Tanya, peace and quiet with nobody to bother us".

It was not long, Tanya had only just finished her tea and I had just sat down with my cup of tea, before my peaceful illusion was shattered. A young child came whizzing by on a bike as an adult stationed himself immediately outside Foxy10 and directed the other twenty or so children on bikes down the rough track to the front of us. There is just no peace for this 'wicked' motorhomer not even in the high plains of mid Spain.

The spot is beautiful though and earlier I was watching thru binoculars a solitary high flying Stork being harrassed by a group of beautiful soaring Buzzards (might be wrong on that one as I am not the best at knowing my Eagles from my Buzzards)

My wild spot of two nights ago was also 'a crowd' one. I'd arrived in 'Badajoz' at the free Aire for motorhomes. It was nearly full and the only spot available was tight between a French and a Spanish motorhome. We squeezed in. Tanya and I then exited and headed across the road in the thirty degree heat for a walk in the park by the river. I inwardly cursed as we entered. The place was loaded with geese who upon spying Tanya set up an unholy racket, lowered their heads and made sure, in no uncertain terms, that one step nearer meant goose invasion.

"Sod it" I said to Tanya. "It's stinking hot, a rubbish camping spot and your walk is blocked by bloody geese; we're leaving!" and we did.

Ten minutes later I was parked up by an old mill which I'd spotted, by chance as I glanced between two tall disused buildings. I'd also caught the briefest glimpse of someone swimming. "Now we're talking." I muttered as I negotiated Foxy10 down a rough but short track and stopped right by the old mill and under a tree too, a real bonus of some much needed shade for Foxy10. There was group of about eight local lads and girls plus various tattoos, smokes and states of undress. They were an alright group though and despite no language commonality they acommodated /tolerated me well and pointed out where to dive in and more importantly where not to. There was one girl in particular dressed only in bra, pants, tattoos and purple Mohican haircut who while swimming around showing me "Nada, nada" (no) or "Bally, bally" (ok) kept one hand and her ciggy above water at all times. Most impressive; but I chose not to follow her as she slid down the slippery and green slime covered weir into the froth below. Neither did I see whether the ciggy survived that one as by then I was too busy enjoying my own cooling and unexpected bonus swim around the satisfyingly deep green millpond.
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"If I'd read the rough guide properly I'd have known it closes on Lunes (Mondays). Ah well tis their loss not mine".

Foxy10 was parked on the steep uphill roadway right outside the locked gates to 'Numancia'. This Iberian Celtic stronghold was one of the last places to resist the advancing Romans. Finally in about 334bc Scipio, erstwhile Roman General, sorted em out. Quietly mind. He just built a bigger stronghold all round them and waited till they all starved or did themselves in rather than be slaves. Nice guy, would make an excellent politician today don't you think?

However; I did leave my mark. Foxy10 being at just the right steeply backward angle of repose had her waste tank tap opened. A satisfying gurgling rush of shower and washing up water gushed down the grassy slope and disappeared within seconds into the arid dry ground. Naughty I know but I felt much better after that, and anyway the Romans are long gone by now, wasn't a sign of them guarding the gate, so no harm done.

The secondary road onwards took me over the high Sierra toward 'Tuleda' and 'Rioca' country. High, wide, empty and somehow I just love it. Maybe it's my agricultural history in and around the wide open Cotswolds that instilled in me a love affair with such places. Who knows; what I do know is you could pick the Cotswolds up and tuck them into a neat corner of these vast low density agricultural Spanish Sierra's so I truly was 'ensconced in my affair' today.

We stopped for lunch at one of the many 'Ermita de la Virgin.... of whatever/wherever'. There seems to have been a preponderance of historical saintly virgins all with their own hermitage in this area. Can't say I see many about just now. I blame t'internet and social media myself. But who knows. Maybe that group of female teenagers who nearly mowed me and Tanya down in Segovia, because they were all heads down and two thumb texting, were all busily texting their daily devotions to the... 'Become a saintly virgin and claim your own hermitage' social media site?
Hmmmm: I wonder!

Blood, Haircuts & a rubber band.

Things around me were definitely a little hazy as I watched the Dettol and water mix in my washing up bowl turn a deep rosy red from blood pouring profusely out of a wound in my foot. Luckily I had only got a few metres away from Foxy10 when the mischievous and devilishly sharp bamboo spike casually sliced through my soft shoe and travelled deep into the sole of my foot. Poor Tanya looked bemused as she tried to work out what the screaming, and frightening for a wee dog, profanity meant and why we suddenly weren't walking any more.
The shock/trauma factor slowly subsided and shaky hands steadied as they gingerly dried off a still bleeding right foot. An injury to the sole of your foot is a fiendishly difficult part of one's anatomy to see. With leg bent double and foot placed sole up on the bed I could at least see over my right shoulder and ascertain I had a clean puncture wound with no bamboo fragments remaining. Once disinfected, dried and plastered it became apparent that I was not going to be walking or driving anywhere for a few days. Fortunately I was at 'Vilamoura' and only ten minutes from where I was staying with my X Bro in Law Ian and lovely wife Aju. Foxy10, with some difficulty, was returned to her spot outside their luxury apartment which is where I am right now and will be for the next few days as throbbing and painful foot slowly heals.

The incident is ironic as Ian himself, a keen golfer, is also incapacitated due to a groin injury. That's two grumpy and immobile males in one luxury 'Vilamoura' apartment. Strange thing is Aju is getting out of the apartment and playing more golf.
Now I wonder why that is? lol!

We all enjoyed a momentous occasion a few nights ago when we visited 'Chicken Shack' in 'Quarteria'. The place is famous for its no nonsense, sit at benches and tuck in to charcoal grilled whole Piri Piri chicken and chips. Delicious, especially when accompanied with tomato and onion salad. However; the meal, enjoyable as it was, was not the 'momentous'.

The 'momentous', and you're gonna have a good laugh at this, was that for the first time in my 69yr life I sported a pony tail. Ok: so it was a very small one, a bob really, and it was held in place by a small green rubber band but the fact remains. I have finally grown long enough hair at the back for a pony tail.
Mind you I very nearly lost it when I recently went for a haircut. I explained to the lady with my best Portugese 'long here' and 'short there' gestures excactly what I wanted. Well, a dubious looking cubicle right by the 'Tavira' fish market advertising Unisex haircuts for six Euros should maybe have warned me that we were not dealing with a 'Vidal Sassoon' hairdresser here. Five minutes it took her. Five minutes of vigorous scissors and wicked looking razor clicking, scraping and slicing unmercifully to deliver a very short cut to behind the ears where a clear line of definition was left between short hair and long hair.
I Look more like a Mohican I do!
I'm trusting (praying actually) that a couple of weeks growth will soften the effect. No matter though, my long hair at the back is still there and my green rubber band awaits its next outing.
Oh! The simple pleasures of a vain degenerate and aimlessly wandering 69 year old eh!
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It is now three days on and I am €80.00's poorer having reluctantly been forced to take my rapidly swelling foot to the local GP. Thought I had possibly got away with it but this mornings foot comparison exercise plus visual confirmation from my highly supportive and appreciated hosts told another tale. Oh well: guess a few more days of foot up draped in cool wraps plus a course of antibiotics will have to suffice for now. Poor Tanya though. She is getting a bit fed up of following this new fangled 'hobble very slowly' master round the same old Condominium block.

My hair is growing though and I have the June 8 election via Facebook to keep me amused. You have to admit don't you..... life is sometimes just soooo good....!!!

Teenagers & Toddlers.

So there I was on a quite and abandoned urbanisation road on the edge of 'Espera' village in the rolling plains South of Seville. All of a sudden a motorised scooter complete with gleefully screaming teenage girl hanging onto daring male teenage scooter driver, shoots by, right under my awning which was out giving shade from the hot sun.

"Uh ho! " I said to Tanya; "looks like we've parked in the local village illicit teenage playground". I moved my camping chair to the middle of the awning temporarily stopping their fun before it got too dangerous.

Now I'm not quite sure how it happened but before long we were all, via smartphones and Google translate (which was hilarious!) having a conversation with half of said teenagers sat inside Foxy10 and the others just outside. They were good kids and throughout the evening various of them would pop in, or by, for another attempt at speaking English with the Gringo from Escotia.
The highlight had to be when they all sang 'Happy Birthday' to me and Foxy10 rocked on her wheels with the 'cheerleader' type dancing (and screaming) from the three girls and one boy inside.

This 'fun with the local teenagers' was all purely by chance too as I had driven through the village, noticing its 'Castillo' atop the hill and continued on toward a lake I'd randomly designated as Mrs Sat Navs destination. You can usually find a spot to park up at near lakes.
A minute past 'Espera' village, and a sudden impulsive decision to turn Foxy10 around and head back for a walk to  'Castillo de Fatetar'. Well it was my birthday and  impulsive decisions are a must on such days. (note to self - please try to curb impulsive decision making on other days....they have a habit of getting me into all sorts of scrapes!) An impressive Castillo it was too plus a very steep and hot walk in the 27°c afternoon warmth. These days I usually have to carry Tanya up the steepest bits plus stopping to give her drinks.

My 'Espera' village teenagers have not been the only ones shattering my quiet solo travelling life this last couple of weeks either. I was delighted to host my son Keith and lively, coming up to age four , toddler Kaden for a few days. They flew into Malaga and were soon whisked off to 'Torrox Costa' where I had already sussed out a safe for toddlers beachside camping spot. Hot sun, sandy beach, safe and shallow sea. What more could a toddler need I thought? Well; as it turned out silly Grampy had not sussed that yes, Kaden does love the beach but..

"Grampy Steve, don't you know I live by the beach. I want a playground too".

Foxy10 did her very best at being a playground but violently using the gearstick as a jelly fuelled turbo booster while having to contend with locked steering wheel and verbal limitations to 'DON'T TOUCH THAT ONE' weren't quite hitting the 'I'm an OK toddler' button. We all know of course the opposite, the 'I'm NOT an OK toddler'. World war three plus two adults immediately morphed into slaves alleviating at any cost whatsoever the pending onset of Armageddon itself.

Luck was with us. We set off down the long promenade for a walk and lo and behold wasn't there just the playground to beat all playgrounds right there and free to use plus coffee shop onsite too. Toddler heaven and adult respite! In fact even more. Keith and Justine back in Castlegregory, Co Kerry, Ireland are deep into fund raising for their own village playground having recently, after a three year struggle with officialdom, obtained the go ahead & some funding. Many photos from many angles were taken by Keith as we together assisted one coming up to age four toddler up the 'minimum age six years' tower to the twisty tube slide back to ground floor. Did I, bye the way, mention that toddlers love 'repetition'? To be fair Keith was an impressive and dedicated Dad and not only handled the' playground repetition delicacies' superbly (at least I got my coffee!) but in general made the whole week so easy and such a pleasure for us all. Pangs of sadness touched me as I watched them disappear through airport security at the end of the week.

Normality quickly returned as I tackled the laundry, my goodness that was a big one! Put Foxy10 back together again and headed off to 'Benalmadena Pueblo' and one of my favourite special places. Calm, spiritual energy and peace are always there in abundance from both the alluring cleft in the rock grotto dedicated to Christian themes and the tall Golden topped Buddhist Stupa above. Overall a place of strong and ancient Gaia energy.

Right now I'm stinking!! I'm beachside at the popular Spanish resort of 'Islantilla' not too far from the 'Portuguese' border. I've not washed this morning as the decision is 'Swim' then beachside shower. Such a decadent life eh! I have noticed this year though the manic urge I used to get to swim in every bit of suitable water I came across has subsided. Perhaps it's an age thing. But I notice this morning I keep testing the air temperature then deciding; 'nope, not quite there yet, give it another hour or so'. Nearly time now though. Get clean, refreshed and then I reckon a nice lunch of  'Tostada' and coffee at the beachside cafe.

Got to do it now haven't I Tanya. I mean I've written it up in the blog so got to make it real now. Let me just go sniff that air again........!!

All of life eh!

I pointed down into the gulley at the few fish swimming there. Irish Mark swimming alongside me acknowledged. We perched briefly on a rock and with snorkels out and goggles raised commented how visibility was better out here on the far side of the rocks as opposed closer to the beach. Mark had his full wetsuit plus wet gloves to offset the distinct chill of the sea on this our first sea swim of 2017. I indicated to him that I would head back as my shorty 2mm Summer wetsuit was, after fifteen minutes, starting to let the cold seep through. Tanya, as always, was waiting for me back at the beach as I, grinning from ear to ear emerged from the sea and staggered ashore. Oh! It was just so good to get that first swim under my belt. I was quite happy with twenty five minutes too. A cold cold sea plus me with start of season unfitness. Ten minutes was my original estimate as I plunged in.

At long last it definitely is getting warmer. Twenty five degrees today. As well as the swim I know warmth is arriving as the first insect bite itches and bumps have also arrived. Usually as the season progresses my skin, as I unmercifully expose it and invite Mr and Mrs insect to dine on its soft white surface, gains some immunity helped, I am sure by regular salt water immersion.
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We left La Manga as the weather turned and I got caught in a horrendous thunder storm wirh gale force winds at my first stop, a Motorhome dealer. I was there to pick up a spare for the fridge as it had played up in the heat at La Manga. It was a common gas fridge problem and I soon had it running again so the spare Gas Jet I was seeking was a cautionary preventative measure against future failure. Despite the thunderstorm knocking out electrics and internet and blowing the roof off an outbuilding the very efficient young lady at 'Caravanas Sangar' delved into a parts manual, disappeared out back and returned Gas Jet in hand. Impressed I was, very impressed.
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I am now at a little village just east of Nerja. I did spend one night in my usual spot in Nerja itself, which I call the Bear pit due to it being a low level scrap of land/car park. However; it is very conveniently near the centre but unusually this year was so so busy. I have never seen this whole area so busy at this time of year. Hence I have moved to 'Maro' where it is much quieter although you wouldn't know it tonight as there is a party going on next to me with several families involved. It is Spain though and quite normal up until 11.0pm when it usually goes blissfully quiet.
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Quite a change now. Cool Cloudy and dull as I sit lazily looking out at the sea from my perch here at 'Torrox Costa'. It is just down the road from Nerja but has easier access to the beach. I personally prefer 'Maro' and its steep walk down to a secluded and any or no attire goes beach which also has shady spots under wild bamboo groves. Last week I enjoyed its delights and warm clear waters. For now though 'Torrox Costa' has been designated as a more suitable and accessible beach for a lively four year old Grandson. I've also been to 'Malaga' for a trial run at collecting my Son Keith and accompanying Kaden from the airport for their short four day visit. Not easy in a Motorhome and I am afraid they're going to have to use a taxi to a nearby retail park where I will be waiting.

While there I also found a local free spot to stay the night as their arrival is very late evening. Which prompts a story of one of the somewhat unusual, some may call it unsavoury, aspects of my 'male solo' travelling existence.

My night near Malaga was spent on an empty car park, close to the beach and overlooked by a block of flats. No problem and very quiet. The next day we decided on a bike ride in the large and wild area between 'Malaga' and 'Torremolinas' , a good bird watching area. So I moved Foxy10 to a more conveniant spot deeper inside this wild area. I Parked just by a French van whose solo male occupant, once establishing I was solo also, went into full propositioning mode. I've sort of got used to this sort of behaviour/approach by now and once the differing sexual orientations were established, not easy as he had no English and my French in challenging situations quickly reverts to shouted English, we soon developed a workable rapport. Once we had the 'delicacies' sorted I knew Foxy10 would be OK left while Tanya and I enjoyed our bike ride. And so it turned out to be. However I did not spend the night there as I've found as evening/night draws on frustrated deviants plus alcohol (the two usually go together) can get a little persistent and quite frankly boring. These 'on the edge', and in particular 'at the edge' of towns and cities, groups of 'underbelly society' exist everywhere. Caution, common sense, humour and being male enables me to utilise these areas pretty safely as the one thing I, they and normal society have in common is a want of peace, quiet and non interference by the authorities/police.

What was nice was to wake up a couple days later wild parked on a deserted 'Urbanization' near 'Almayate' and, while walking Tanya, bump into the perfectly normal Linda, who was also walking her dog from a nearby campsite where she and her husband Julian were resting up between travelling Morocco and heading to France in their beautiful old classic Hymer Motorhome.

All of life eh, all of life.

Javea + Benidorm

So there I am, snug in my little spot sheltering from wind whistling around the lighthouse on 'Cap de St Anton' overlooking 'Javea' and beyond. I've used the spot before and have had no bother either from the regular stream of tourists or the authorities. But this time I spy another motorhome approaching. I briefly note its French number plate and take no further notice until that is, a tanned and white bearded face unexpectedly appears at my open door and a very English voice asks if it is safe to park up.

Such was my introduction to Mike, a French citizen who left England some forty years ago. A fellow wanderer too, having obtained his tanned features during a recent three month trip to India. An intended, by both of us, overnight stop turned into two days of delightful sharing of food, history, poetry, music, experiences, beliefs and, lifes forever journey. We finally, with some reluctance, parted this morning, he going North back to France while I continue my Southerly meandering. I think Tanya is missing his dog Tarka too. I'm sure we will meet again, perhaps even on this trip as I travel back thru France. Who knows.

The last ten days have certainly been 'people' time. I stayed at 'Rugat' alogside my friends Wyn and Lenny outstanding villa amid the terraces of pink almond blossom. They've had a tough winter with unseasonable weather causing damage to the property and Wyn being floored by a vicious dose of flue. To lift their lowness we all took a trip in Foxy10 down to the coast. They stayed with me overnight and scored a first by using the big double overhead bed. They reported it as really comfy. I think our brief trip really lifted their spirits and helped them formulate a plan for the coming year involving possible downsizing and purchase of a 'Foxy10' type of motorhome. They already have a very old Hymer motorhome which at present is in bits and unusable. Good luck guys and may the plan come to fruition.

My next 'people' stop was Benidorm where two motorhoming friends were happily tucked into their slot on Camping Villanova. Personally I am not a Benidorm or a campsite dweller. However; I freely confess to being the odd one out as every campsite in Benidorm was full and the whole place was heaving. I roadside parked for one night and enjoyed a remarkably cheap, but very good Chinese meal with Phil and Linda.

I took Tanya out for a walk after the meal and noticed another British registered motorhome parked round the corner from me across several herring bone car parking slots right on the main road. He had ramps out to level the motorhome which is a definite no no if you wildcamp. It immediately alerts the authorities you are camping not parking. Worse still they had opened their gray water tap (Dirty sink/shower water) letting it flow across the road for all the traffic to splash thru. I shook my head in disbelief and sadness that another UK motorhomer could be so arrogant and disrespectful.

I thought, 'thats it, we'll all be moved on now'.

He was, about an hour later, and rightly so too. I thought I had got away with it as I was neatly and correctly parked on a quiet side street and no Policia Locale came a knocking at my door. But no; next morning as I opened my window blinds I saw an ominous large yellow sticker firmly stuck to a side window.

"Uh ho, we've got a fine I think".  muttered I as I removed it.

Now; do you remember how messrs Universe are mostly very kind and tolerant of me and my misdemeanours? Well, I am going to put Benidorms Policia Locale in the same category. The notice was just a warning notifying me I was parked in a 'forbidden place'. There was no fine. Phew! I was actually quite impressed at the subtle and different way the local police had dealt with a blatant offender, our arrogant dirty water draining friends, and a mild offender, yours truly. I was allowed an undisturbed nights sleep whereas our 'friend' was upsticked and moved on. Not pleasant when your settled in for the night. Let's hope he gets the message and learns the lesson.

Floored, Trumped & t'internet

Wow! At last bright warm early morning sunshine. Up quickly for an early morning Tanya walk and  contemplation on the day ahead. First morning out in shorts too.

Hmmmmm; never pays to get too cocky does it. An hour later the sun disappeared and a violent storm rocked Foxy10 off her wheels and all around on 'Camping Ribamar' chaos ensued as campers in various modes of early morning dress ran about securing awnings, rescuing chairs and catching washing gleefully set free to fly in the wicked and from all directions wind.

Long trousers plus central heating are back on and the sun? Well; it doesn't look like we're going to see it's shiny face again today. Not that I am particularly bothered as I am snug, warm and plugged in to electricity for the time being which is good as I am recovering from my second bout of illness this trip.

I had been wild parked at one of my favourite spots near Peniscola. Right on the rocks with blue sea just thirty feet away. Warm and sunny it was too plus an extra bonus in the form of Isobel, a local resident, and her newly acquired just four days previously, standard Poodle Raymond. We enjoyed a couple of good doggy walks together while catching up on current and historical gossip, as you do. At our age there are always rich pickings from 'historical gossip'. However; just lately, and wait for it, here's the punchline, it's been well and truly 'Trumped' by current affairs gossip.
Sorry all. Just couldn't resist it.

Tanya and I also had our first outing on the bike. Thought I had better prise it off the bike rack, show it some oil and see if it still worked after all the dreadful weather we have travelled through since leaving the UK. Ten K we did all the way along the lovely flat prom to Benicarlos Marina.

Washing, shopping, van cleaning and Tanya grooming were all due so I decided to move on for a few days TLC on 'Camping Ribamar' at 'Albacosse'. As I drove away from my rocky haven by the sea I felt a small stomach area twinge but thought nothing of it.

You know; I have to tell you this. Messrs Universe Ltd, as I've often said before, is so very kind and considerate to me. She allowed me to arrive at said campsite, drive onto a pitch and then, and only then, she floored me. Literally, floored me.
As we stopped I remember turning to Tanya and saying.

"Y'know Tan, I aint feeling right".

I then swivelled my seat round, went to stand up and found myself sprawled across Foxy10's floor sweating profusely and confusedly wondering what the hell had hit me. There I stayed for about two hours until the initial bout of severe delirium left me.

Thankfully that was the most severe it got and after another couple of hours bed rest a compromised and weak  functioning resumed. Domingo and his wife, owners of the campsite, were very helpful plugging my electric cable up for me, making sure I was OK and waving aside all booking in procedures until I was 'of normal function'.

I slowly recovered remaining at Camping Ribamar for four days before moving on further South to 'El Saler' where I am now. I am much, much better although taking it very easy. Sun is out though, shorts are on and beach walks with Tanya are order of the day.
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T'internet is a wonderful thing is it not? Yesterday I Arrived at 'Cullera' which is a large open motorhome parking area.  I parked up and boy was it windy. I also noticed how the recent bad weather and storms has altered the place. My spot of two years ago is now a salty lagoon behind a newly formed sand bank. Good job I was not parked there on whatever night it was the storm hit.

Out came the phone just to check e mails etc and there on 'WhatsApp' a photo of a Motorhome Truma central heating control with a request as to how to set it to give warmth. I quietly chuckled as I replied to my Sister and Brother in law all the way over there in New Zealand. They were on their first night of a very special retirement adventure in a hired Motorhome and it was cold. I am sure my involvement was more to do with confirming steps already taken and re-assurance. With a fully time served Chartered Engineer in charge I have a feeling the mechanical intricacies of a Motorhome will present little problem once they are past the initial settling in stage. It was a good feeling to be able to offer help though and a real testament as to the power and ability of today's mobile phone technology.

Have a good trip guys.

New Babies & Mental Health.

The van was spinning as my feet made contact with the floor on my waking journey from horizontal to vertical. I grabbed hold of the wardrobe door to steady myself.

I had bailed out of our intended destination in the early afternoon yesterday as I felt rough and knew I needed a bolt hole to quietly sit and recover. A vineyard on a quiet road with good exposure to the sun (needed to charge batteries in order I have good heating) presented itself and here I have stayed. With such dizziness affecting me I knew I was unable to drive and apart from taking Tanya out for the necessary, went straight back to bed. This evening, fingers crossed, I feel a little better.

I'm near 'Sigean' and even this far down nighttime temperature are still in the minus. This trip without a doubt has been the coldest of the last five years. I think it has contributed somewhat to my present feverish condition although Foxy10 has kept me warm and snug even at minus ten degrees.

I was worried in case my ailment had been left behind at 'Aix en Provence where Nephew James, wife Fran and new baby Maeve hosted a wonderful weekend where we were joined by my sister and family. A very' it's my turn to cuddle Maeve now' few days and a bonus for me on my journey South. Plus we all raised a glass to new arrival Tilley in Wales. My tenth grand/stepgrand child.

I made a phone call to my sister earlier today where I was assured both they and the 'Aix' contingent were all in robust health. A big relief especially with a new baby.
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I am happy to report that tonight's outside temperature is a balmy 9°c, I am feeling much better, and tomorrow we will be in Spain. Oh yes! Today has been a much better day.

A day of illness gave me chance to finish reading the autobiography 'Railway Man' by Eric Lomax.  The book ends as the author finally comes to terms with the huge Mental trauma he suffered as a Far East POW. He noted how few places there are for people with such trauma (or any trauma) to be helped and supported.

Just after, on Facebook I was attracted to an article about the importance of such Mental Health support services for our emergency services who on a daily basis face trauma which gets 'stuck and mis-stored' within mind. I know the emergency service side of Mental Health very well from the Mental Wellbeing perspective of having been a counsellor involved in listening to and supporting such traumatised individuals.

The irony of the two reads and my reflective thinking is I have a historic 'traumatised' perspective too. I took early retirement due to the effects (flashbacks, nightmares, inability to cope etc) of trauma. For me it was a combination of secondary trauma, from listening and supporting front line emergency service clients. This then became mixed with my own personal journey as my dearly loved wife Kate travelled through cancer to it's inevitabe and final end.

Now I was aware of what was happening to me. I was also very well supported both professionally and family wise yet those mental effects lingered on for approximately two years, certainly well into my first years of living and travelling in a Mororhome. Only now, in hindsight and after giving reflective time such as this do I understand how deeply such mental trauma affects. And lets face it my healing path, unlike many, has not been dysfunctional, well, not if your a Motorhoming Hermit Pensioner Hippie with a dog that is.

We are asked these days to talk about Mental Health in order to continue to remove fear, stigma and quite frankly, the bullshit surrounding it. So thank you for reading my little bit toward normalisation of Mental Health issues and I do recommend 'Railway Man'. A good read.

Right. Spain it is then.

Palais Ideal & poorly dog

"Hauterives..... is a small village with a remarkable creation, the manic surreal 'Palais Ideal".

This according to my ancient copy of Rough Guide to France is also a "truly bizarre creation defying any categorisation". Created earlier this century by local postman Ferdinand Cheval over a period of 20 years it, to me, became a 'must see'. There also,  conveniently happened to be a Motorhome Aire in the village. That is how it became the destination on the day Tanya decided to become a very sick and pathetic little doggy. Her wellness prescription involved curtailing the planned trip early afternoon and diving instead into a nearby lorry park where we settled in for some recuperation. she really was quite sick and for a time had me worried. However; she walked OK and her poos were not alarmingly abnormal. We stayed where we were for the night and by morning she showed signs of improvement which confirmed my suspicion it was just a bad sicky bout either through something I had given her,  which was unlikely as I am aware of her delicate tum, or something she had picked up while out walking. Either way it was now morning and a bloody cold and wet one too. I decided downhill toward the Rhone river valley would give better weather rather than toward higher ground which 'Hauterives' (High rivers) suggested. So that was my first failed attempt at viewing 'Palais Ideal'.
My second attempt was today. Friday the 13th and a full moon at that. The day looked good with sunshine and dry roads. I also had a fully recovered Tanya. A good day, or so it seemed, to continue our slow meander south with but a wee diversion uphill to view 'Palais Ideal'. And it was too, a pleasant drive that is. We arrived  lunch time at the perfectly adequate Motorhome parking area deciding to stay where we were and put kettle on for a spot of lunch before wandering into the village. The sun had disappeared by now and a bit of a wind arisen but we were snuggly warm and halfway through lunch when snowflakes started their lazy dance in the wind. A wee snow flurry I thought as I tidied lunch away. Then, without warning it was a howling gale with horizontal thick snow and everywhere suddenly white.

"I'm outa here Tanya before we get stuck fast".

Which is exactly what happened and is why my second attempt at viewing 'Palais Ideal' on a Fri 13th was also abandoned. The escape was not uneventful either. Motorhomes are not designed or known as good slitherers on snow covered roads with Foxy10 being no exception. Some hairy moments in virtually nil visibility ensued before finally the downhill direction fetched us out of the storm.

Later on parked up by the River Rhone safely behind an InterMarche supermarket, in, I may add, cold, clear evening sunshine,  I reflected upon the day. All in all, I thought, seeing as how it was Friday 13th and a full moon, I reckon I got off lightly. Plus; and this is the important bit, Universe in all it's wisdom had decided I was definitely not meant to see 'Palais Ideal'. Who am I to argue with that.

A walk by the river & visit local village and church..... Spot the dog!!

Icicles & Basilicas

No problem with the ferry and an uneventful but pleasant drive to 'Bailleul'. Once there I sneaked behind some shops settling myself into a leaf strewn but otherwise deserted car park. Boy was it cold though. Well below freezing albeit dry and still.

"Won't be too bad as long as it gets no worse than this eh Tanya".

Hmph! Famous last words. Today, as I continued travelling South East it has got colder, wetter and dodgy-er. A decidedly dangerous type of wet, misty freezing rain. Roads, pavements and supermarket car parks were transformed into skating rinks. After gingerly passing the third accident, this one complete with fire, police and ambulance and not looking good for the trapped passenger, I abandoned snails pace travel and dived/slithered into the nearest small village. I already had two stops to clear the ice from my windscreen wipers never mind the large icicles hanging from my mirrors.

"Tomorrow we abandon South East Tanya. It's South South and more South and main roads only till we hit warmer climes".

It's not all gloom however; Foxy10 is snug and warm inside and will remain so as long as I manage a couple of hours driving per day to charge batteries.

Our little, 'slithered into village' is a bonus too. 'Evergnicourt' is a grain store outpost with few houses on the vast grain growing plains East of 'Reims'. The local park next to the river on the abandoned railway trail afforded Tanya and I a brisk and pleasurable walk despite the cold and  misty gloom. Gravelly paths and  grassy verges gave both Tanya and I solid non slippy footing. Unlike the supermarket car park earlier where Tanya, feet flying in all directions, went A over H and ended up on her side with a nasty thud. She was not a happy doggy and let me lift her to deposit her safely back in Foxy10. No harm was done thankfully but we abandoned the walk and gingerly moved on to our present location.

Wonder what tomorrow will bring?
........
I see Britain is in for cold and snow over the next few days and that Europe have been suffering it for the last week. Well I can attestify to that all right. I have used a whole gas cylinder in six days keeping Foxy10 warm and snug plus cooking and having the odd hot water wash too. Well you know what they say the Motorhomers mandate is,  'wash on odd days only'. Shower? Did I hear you say.  Ahhh, yes, mmmm maybe tomorrow, or perhaps I'll just wait till I reach warm sunshine. Talking of which I am happy to report I've seen and experienced some. This morning actually, as I was emptying the unmentionables cassette in a proper disposal site on the edge of the delightful Burgundy village of 'Givry'. Warmth on my back is what I felt for the first time this trip. Unfortunately cloud and rain soon returned but did, in a very civilised way, stand aside as we reached the famous pilgrimage town of 'Paray le Monial'. Tanya and I enjoyed a pleasant walk in the Botanical park twixt 'Canal du Centre' and the river 'Digoin' (Loire further on down) before exploring the impressive 'Basilica of the sacred heart'. We crept inside to have a look at the austere but beautifullly vast interior of this former Cistercian monastry. We were so lucky as a service was in progress which consisted mainly of Gregorian type chanting. All I can say is those monks knew a thing or two about acoustics. I had Tanya in my arms and we stayed riveted to the spot as the deep melodious chanting rolled from pillar to domed roof to nave. I remained in unabashed rapture as slowly, the service ended sending the last chanted glorifications echoing their way into every nook and cranny of the Basilica before finally, and reluctantly, granting us a centuries old cold stone silence.

...............
Tonight is different. Parked up among lorries West of 'St-Etienne'. A combination of late start.... Err like lunch time.... and heavy trafffic meant my goal of riverside motorhome Aire was abandoned in favour of stopping..... like now....  due to the imploring look from Tanya who was desperate for a wee and a walk.
Snug n warm & cooked up a tasty stew. Could be worse.

Christmas/New Year Blog

At my brothers this year with Turkey and all the trimmings beautifully presented by daughters and Mum. Memories of toddler Joseph upturning  unwrapped box and emptying out his new farmset complete with square wooden cows and brown plastic fencing. Intelligent use of this fencing as a ladder enabled pink pig, and square cow, easy cushion to floor access.

A call from Ireland later in the afternoon from Grandson Kaden announced with frantic excitement, "Grampy Steve, Grampy Steve, IT'S CHRIIIIISTMAAAAS". Well if I had not quite grasped the fact, this phone call made sure I knew for certain the festivities were now in full swing.

A quiet Boxing day walking in blue December crispness with Barbara. Then a move from Salisbury to Redhill and the lively household of my recently retired sister. Another full and groaning Christmas fayre table was eagerly attacked, consumed and reluctantly left by all and sundry, some of whom swore once more to never again indulge in such gluttony.

Barbara and I stayed on at Redhill enjoying the family atmosphere.

A day out 'wandering the streets of London'  had both Barbara and I in childish glee as we marvelled at the Oxford street lights, street entertainers, theatre land, and the fact we could just wander into a music shop and bash out 'Auld lang Syne'  on a nine thousand pound Yamaha organ. The day was a special treat for us as for once Tanya was left behind with very capable dog sitter and dog walker Carolyn.

A lively New Years eve outing and eating followed with my sisters/husbands long term friends. Barbara's fiddle and Jim's guitar did a surprisingly good job of entertaining us when you consider the alcohol consumed and the total lack of any previous rehearsals.

Barbara, now safely back in Scotland, is snug in her wee cottage while I, on my own and travelling again, snuggle up in Foxy10 on this cold cold January night before the Dover ferry whisks me away to Euroland.

I've spoken of it before, the first few days of travel after being with, and so enjoying, family and friends. This time is no different. If anything it is tougher as Barbara and I shared a close family festive togetherness. Something not experienced by either of us for many years. So tonight, and for the next few nights, I know I shall be fighting a sort of lonesome 'poor me' state of mind and body until I settle once again into  'New adventure' and 'I love travelling'. Tonight's comfort  meal of 'Motorhome cooked' sausage and mash plus onions and mushrooms has certainly helped raise the mood. Trouble is there is no dishwasher anymore and no one to scrub the pans cept yours truly. Tanya is happy though, care of a Pets at Home gift voucher from my  sister Judith. (Thaankyooooo) She is, as I write, snoring away in her brand new golden fleece snuggly bed. That's Tanya of course, not my sister.... I don't think she snores..... and I don't think she has a golden fleece snuggly bed either.

Now about this washing up...... Awe damm it... It can wait till later.... Nice cup of hot chocolate first ..... Sounds a good plan to me.... Anyone disagree..... Nope... Ok then let's get that kettle on.

Cold but Snuggly

Wild camping, or being off grid as far as electricity goes can sometimes be challenging. In particular as winter approaches and requires a big draw on my twelve volt batteries just to keep warm. New technologies, for example; Lithium, largely solve the problem but are horrendously expensive. I'm afraid my budget will only stretch to the standard, albeit well tried and tested, Lead Acid batteries. Used correctly and sensibly these give me all the power I need but do need charging either by the solar panel or by driving so the engine charges them. What this way of life has made me aware of is how as a householder I took electricity  plus all its gadgetry for granted. I am a very enviromentally friendly user of electric power now. If I'm not then Foxy10's control panel in her lofty position above the door, simply bleeps at me and promptly turns all power off. She says to me. "I'm moving to emergency save the battery mode and you can go freeze yourself!"

This morning's bleep was the second such case. The first was during two days of heavy rain while Barbara was with me. Not the best way to introduce a sophisticated member of the feminine persuasion to a cold dark wet SW Ireland. I can assure you Foxy10's engine was promptly started and batteries re-charged.

The problem does have a solution. As usual it means more expense as Foxy10's batteries are well past their two/three year sell/use by date and need replacing.

Right now though I am snug and warm at my son's house where Foxy10 is plugged into mains electricity. These days I regard the infrequent times I am 'mains connected' as a real luxury, something to be appreciated and used sparingly and with caution. I mean .... I might get to like it too much.
..........
Well this has been a remarkable Autumn. All the way to Ireland and back to Wales over a six week period with virtually no rain, very mild, and with gentle breezes. Bearing in mind the simple fact that travelling Westerly, ie; toward the Atlantic, historically has meant wet, wet and more wet, a moment or two of reflection upon such good fortune and benevolence from Universe is called for and will be given.

I move on Eastwards tomorrow. I Leave behind my contribution to the renovation work on the large X pub my Stepdaughter and partner now live in. I take with me matt white paint liberally distributed over hands and overalls and fond memories of evenings in front of the large log fire with toddler Mabel cuddling up to Tanya who, incidentally, was more affected by the crackling of the sizzling logs in the fire than by the firework displays going on all around.
...........
On to visit Cousins in Gloucester and other friends. The weather turned very cold but Foxy10 is snuggly warm. Definitely an improvement on Sadie Changing the batteries has solved the power shortage problem too. Waking up in the morning with a zero tempature is still not nice but the speed at which Foxy's efficient little central heating boiler provides snuggly warmth is impressive.

Mind you; hot or freezing cold, waking up on 'Trump' morning and hearing the news was pretty damm tough. After the shocks of (thwarted) Scottish independance, Labour devastation, horribly insensitve right wing Tories and Brexit I should be used to it by now. To me the pattern seems to be full scale revolution via the ballot box. I hope and pray it stays that way and does not move into full scale blood letting, which, recent history has showed us, is always a possibility.

Maybe I ought to get my motorhome re-sprayed in camofluage green and brown just in case I gotta hide away in some thickly wooded valley deep within that awful place called Europe. 

Ho Hum Eh!

Ireland

"I know him, its Pete!" Exclaimed Barbara as she unexpectedly gripped my arm from her perch on the high stool next to mine. I looked and listened with increased attention to the heartfelt rendering of 'Margarita' by Pete plus guitar at the front of this intimate gathering here in 'Dingle music shop', Southwest Irelands capital of traditional Irish music.

At the end of the concert, and in particular the hauntingly beautiful fiddle playing by well known artist 'Maire Breatnach' (try the cd:- Voyage of Bran) Barbara made a beeline through the crowd and by the time I caught up with her both Pete and herself were, with astonishment, meeting up again eight years on from their last encounter in far off Liverpool.

I love this world I inhabit where Universe and its infinite creative magnitude continually presents unexpected and beautiful moments. A moment where  two people meet up again and discover that previous lost contact was not the imaginary scenario created at the time but instead merely an internet glitch.

I wonder, in this age of communal electronic wizardry, how many times such a 'glitch' ends a supportive, beneficial or indeed loving contact between two people?
...........

From Dingle to 'Blennerville' and its restored and working windmill. Also, and I feel more importantly, its museum giving the history of emigration & famine. A very familiar theme in both Ireland & Scotland (called the clearances in Scotland and still evident in the empty Glens and hills.) but somehow, here in Ireland, made very 'now' as we continually bumped into Americans back in the 'old country' to see how their recent ancestors lived.

Here's a quote from Stephen De Vere from Limerick. A steerage passenger in 1847 on one of the 'emigree' boats. They became known as coffin ships.

"Hundreds of poor people huddled together without air, without light, wallowing in filth and breathing a fetid atmosphere, sick in heart, dispirited in body. The fevered patients lying between the sound in sleeping spaces so narrow as almost to deny them the power of indulging, by change of position, the natural restlessness of their disease:..... living without food or medicine, except as administered by the hand of casual charity, dying without the voice of spiritual consolation, and buried in the deep without the rites of the church".

Sound familiar? Think Mediterranean refugees happening now. Then, as now, caused by ruling elites, corporations, religions or family's placing greed/profit as a value way above mere human being.

I am reminded of one of my farmer customers in Gloucestershire of many years ago. His greeting was always the same and as true now as ever. His was an old, bent, tough as his stout leather boots body when I dealt with him. As he leaned on his thumb stick and turned his weatherworn cattle dealer face toward me he would say;

"Whaats about then Steve my boy. Keeps goin around dont it".

It certainly seems so. Just round and round and round. Names and technology may change some but the roundabout is still the same.
..........
Barbara has now flown home with good memories of her Irish visit plus a highly satisfactory rating, agreed by both of us, in regard to living and travelling as a couple in Foxy 10. We were lucky with the weather too. A couple days of heavy rain on the 'Kerry Ring', offset by visiting the 'Skelligs Chocolate Experience', with dry, mild sunshine & cloud the rest of the time.

Highlights:- Overnighting on the edge of 'Muckross Park' Killarney in the middle of a night-long confrontation of rutting and roaring red deer stags.

The 'Skelligs and The Blaskets' visitor centres. Veritable mines of information of a way of life, and of being, desirable in its simplicity and yet awesome in its harshness and isolation.

And finally:- Treasure hunting on the beach with Kaden for mother of pearl shells which Barbara deftly crafted into necklace pendants for Justine, Keith and birthday girl Aunty B.

I will stay on for a time and help out where I can with Grampy sitting duties for my lively but delightful Grandson Kaden.

"Grampy Steve, Grampy Steve. I need a pee, can we go to your motorhome to have a pee. Tanya can come too Grampy Steve".

The fascination of a motorhome chemical toilet with electronic flush eh! Gets em all the time!

"Come on then .... no Kaden, just press the flush button once .... no don't hold it on .... yes OK you can put Tanya on her lead .........".

Music & a lazy Sunday

Not the best of mornings just now. I'm having a slow 'coming to' morning after a special night out at Strathkiness Tavern where Birthday girl Barbara and I enjoyed a delicious meal. A local ad hoc group of Scottish folk musicians and singers gather in the bar every Monday night which is where we retired to after the meal. They even, without too much persuasion, coaxed a song from Barbara. All in all a very enjoyable Barbara Birthday and continuation of the Scottish Fiddle, Accordian and folk music scene in general which has been the underlying theme of my 2016 yearly stay here in Fife.

I accompanied Barbara to Cupar last week where she was playing at the local park bandstand with the 'Billy Anderson Kilrymont Accordion and Fiddle band. During the concert I walked Tanya around the park and got into conversation with a couple enjoying their lunch in the sunshine.
"Oh yes!" I said in answer to their question about renumeration for playing in such a prestigious band.
"Think twenty then add three zeros".
"Really". They answered, sandwiches paused in mid air and eyes firmly fixed in my direction.
"Yes, three gigs with zero payment and one end of season cheque for twenty pounds". I replied.
........
The weather here has been fantastic with virtually no rain for the last three weeks. The garden has been modified and tidied, the shed painted and lots of time  spent sitting out front in the sunshine. This cottage is not called 'Sunnybraes' for nothing.
.........
We are now moving west where rain has once again welcomed us. We have resigned ourselves to sharing rain and sunshine as we head toward a ferry to Belfast thence onward to Ireland and Grandson Kaden way down in Co Kerry. Barbara is travelling with me so Foxy10 is getting a good two person shake down. I have to say she is doing really well giving us both the familiarity and quality expected of a high quality French built Rapido plus greatly improved social area, quality of ride and overall warmer and cosier Motorhome.

The fridge is functioning perfectly now too after my earlier visit to Knowepark Motorhome dealers near Livingstone. They seriously blasted out the gas burner flue at the back of the fridge with an air hose. Lets just say the amount of sh*t that headed for the atmosphere was a pretty good clue as to why Mrs fridge was struggling to operate efficiently. Thanks guys. Good job done.

Simple pleasures are great. Today has been a simple pleasure/lazy Sunday. Wild we are, at the end of a tiny no entry road not far from East Kilbride. The day has been a mixture of sunshine and showers with us enjoying a late breakfast, leisurely showering/grooming before walking to the local garden centre for lunch. Tanya got a treat while we were there too. A sensibly sized knitted woollen coat for the cold nights ahead. Our afternoon proved productive with Barbara generously donating her needle skills and shortening curtains plus elasticating headrest covers. I meanwhile delved headfirst into the large underbed garage area to re position a light fitting.

All exciting and simple motorhoming pleasures designed specifically for the clinically certified elderly wandering itinerents of this world. Who, incidentally, at the end of this 'simple pleasure' day really appreciated a  delicious 'motorhome cooked' fish and veggie kedgeree supper accompanied by good music on Radio 2.

All in all a most enjoyable day.

Mirrors, Confidence & Grandaughters

I saw the plastic skid across the road via my rear view wing mirror which did not seem to be damaged at all from the impact with this 'other' mirror. I also saw the 4x4 slow and stop.

"Shite" I muttered as I brought Foxy 10 to a stop in a conveniantly situated car park. I was driving the narrow and busy road along the Eastern shoreline of  Loch Lomond. I left Tanya inside Foxy 10 as I walked back to the stricken 4x4 to be met by a scowly faced and not in a good mood lady driver. Such a face put me on my guard .

I'm learning the hard way that Foxy10's wing mirrors have the potential to be lethal weapons. They sit on the end of extended arms which are conveniantly at the height of virtually all other similar sized vehicle mirror assemblies.

"Wing mirrors eh! A hazard of modern day motoring don't you think?" My jovial testing of the waters only whipped up stormy waters and increased scowliness.

"I've been driving this road for 20 years and never had an accident in all that time!!". Came testily at me from the reddened, scowly and not amused face.

"Well I did notice you were well out in the road, not leaving me much space". I replied deciding I may as well attack as there was going to be no shrugging of shoulders and 'ah well, these things happen' end to this incident.

I re-assembled her mirror with help of Gaffer tape (your not a motorhomer if you don't carry Gaffer tape) while she wrote down my registration number and requested my name. I, with difficulty, held back the 'fer f***s sake lady, its a wing mirror, get over it'. I could not however; resist the temptation, when asked frostily for my post code to reply by pointing to Foxy10 and uttering the immortal words "I live there lady, I'm of No Fixed Abode". The scowly face stared, turned purple, muttered something incomprehensible, climbed back in her 4x4 and drove off.

Could take a while but I got a feeling there will be an insurance company seeking me out sometime.

The day did improve. Ten minutes further on Cashell, 'Forest for a thousand years', welcomed us with dull but dry skies. My dear wife Kate lies here. A pleasant walk up the steep forest track was enjoyed by Tanya and myself before some silence and reflection in this most beautiful of spots overlooking Loch Lomond, its islands and Luss Hill beyond. A hill Kate and I walked many times.

The day remained benevolent saving the rain until we were safe and dry inside a once again rolling Foxy10. And rain it did. All the way to our destination of West Sands alongside St Andrews famous golf links where the skies cleared and granted us a warm, dry and patchy blue sky evening. Oh! So good to be once again walking barefoot amid sun, sand, waves & wind.
...........

Several days later now and I think I have writers block. Or maybe as I listen and be with family, friends and old work colleagues I realise my life, compared to theirs, even though on the outside my life looks escapist and glamorous, is, in reality nothing more than an old man living on his own with a small dog in a white van and doing little else. Pretty boring really. Not to me you understand, I still enjoy the lifestyle even though as the years go by I am finding it increasingly difficult to relate to the pace and tumult of quote; normal life. Unquote.

My recent trip into Glasgow is an example of this.  The Crown Plaza Hotel, right on the waterfront opposite the BBC and the Science Centre graciously allowed me to stay overnight in their car park in order I might attend the labour party hustings with Jeremy Corbyn and Owen Smith. Never mind the politics. We'll stay well clear of that minefield. 

Affecting me was the fact a guy, not disimilar in looks and of the exact same age as myself was up there, centre stage, giving it his all and fighting for the second time a leadership battle against his own party plus every dirty trick that party can think up and throw at him. I'm not him, I know that, but I am of the same generation and like him have walked the same history. I returned  to Foxy10 humbled. I needed some quite and reflective time to arrive back at myself. I needed reminding that brilliant white light only happens through every colour of the rainbow playing their equal, unseen, individual and vitally important role.
.........

After such excitement plus various appointments with Doctors, Dentists and Vets it was time for a couple of days out wild. Especially as being continually and soundly thrashed at Dominoes by my grandaughter had pushed my wise and skilled grampy self confidence to a previously unheard of low. I suppose I just have to be thankful that Becca, the youngest of my Scottish grandaughters is as bad as I am at playing the Blues Harp. Not a nice sound but a wee compensation!!

'Wild' equated to a beautiful Woodland park tucked snuggly under the steep and dominant Ochill hills. We were between Alva and Tillicoultry enjoying the stunning views across the river Forth. The area is riddled with good walking paths liberally spattered with good quality doggy sniffs. Tanya was in paradise.

Confidence returned. Fridge is nearly empty. Babara and St Andrews here we come once again but this time for a longer stay.

Foxy10 has arrived!

Foxy10 is also a Rapido. Shinier, newer, different and veeeerrry nice to drive. The changeover process was not easy but armed with good information and after doing all the research Barbara accompanied me on a 4 day trip to Great Yarmouth and Nottingham to view the two Rapido motorhomes that were 'best fit' to my criteria. Barbara supportive as ever was the perfect foil to my anxieties and worries over this big decision. Especially when I became rather enthusiastic over a brand new Rapido PSV. These are conversions of large delivery vans complete with the big sliding door on the side. This V36 conversion was the best I have come across and for a time I was convinced and really wanted it. They are smaller though and serious compromise would have been the name of the game if I had gone down that route. We talked it over and decided to go on to Nottingham and view the other motorhome, a Rapido 776ff. Well; Oaktree Motorhomes came up trumps. An immaculate vehicle, roomy plus all the storage space I need to continue my fulltime and much loved four season motorhome life. 

So, and to cut a long story short, here I am again, back at the beginning of my journey, deja vu. I am Once again staring at a huge shiny white thing on four wheels while at the same time psychological mind, with accompanying fear and horror, is noticing the gaping black hole in my bank balance. Ahhhh well. Live life to the full eh!

Saying goodbye to Sadie was mentally and emotionally hard. The time was right though. She had high mileage, was 12yrs old with developing 'issues' (let's say no more on that one) and needed an easier life. I am just so grateful for the wonderful home and amazing adventures she bequeathed me these past 5 years. Safe journey Sadie. May your wheels roll on and continue to give pleasure for some years yet.

I am currently overnighting here in Wales below the 'Garreg Ddu' dam at the 'Elan valley' visitor centre. A lovely flat grassy area where for £2.00 they tolerate 'responsible and sensitive to the surroundings' wild camping. Rain is the 'in' thing here. 1830 millmetres per year as compared with London, 595 and Endinburgh 676 millimetres. Tanya and I did receive our share of it on our resevoir/hill walk this afternoon. But spoil our first night out wild where cooking has been involved it did not. All went extremely well with my bacon, egg, onion, mushroom, nut and wild rice Paella. I'm now sitting in the swivelled round drivers seat, feet up on the generous bench seat with cup of tea close at hand on the fancy folding and move anywhere pedestal table. I tell you, it is most comfy indeed. Unfortunately, and in this respect Foxy10 is the same as Sadie, there is no maid to do the washing up. I do however; have a double sink..... wooooohooooo.... which as yet, I cant quite figure out whether it is an advantage or not.

Tanya is settling into her new home too. We've still some work to do on organising her travelling seat and she has forgiven me the first attempt which unceremoniously collapsed depositing her neatly half in and half out of the passenger door pocket where she had to stay uncomfortably wedged in until I found a conveniant lay by to pull into.
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I knew it would'nt last, the good fortune with Foxy 10. We've hit our first major problem which requires a trip back to Oaktree Motorhomes at Nottingham. Because I am wild camping most of the time my large fridge runs mainly on gas. It has its own little burner which does 'stuff' to the refrigerant gas which in turn keeps the fridge cool. A gas burner has an exhaust which is vented to the outside. Unfortunately some of that smelly and decidedly unhealthy exhaust emission is leaking inside Foxy's habitation area. Not good. Not good at all. I was plagued with fridge 'incidents' during Sadie's life. Now it looks as though the theme is going to continue with Foxy 10.

I'm due at Oaktree Motorhomes August 8, just over a week from now. Meanwhile I guess it's going to be a week of overalls on to give Lloyd and Emily a hand renovating their large listed building X pub here in Talley, Carmarthenshire. I think I am down for paint stripping tomorrow.

Oh boy! ...... Oh Joy!
(Smiling really ..... !)