Hot sun, sand and Mussels.

Round the table were Hazel, a charming lady travelling on her own who had delayed going to see relatives in order she may join us for lunch. Next was Paul, a Yorkshire lad who was spending a week in the 'Portimao/Ferragudo' area awaiting his wife's return from a 'family needs' flight back to the UK. Doug was engaging him in conversation as they each had a history of deep ocean sailing and boats in general. I was next to Doug with Helen, Doug's partner on my right. We were all tucking into a delicious lunch which included freshly cooked mussels gathered not an hour before by yours truly from the anchor chain of a yacht moored 200m off shore in this wide river/port area.

I swam out to the yacht initially as a recreational swim and noticed a large collection of mussels clinging to the anchor chain about a meter below the surface. Back to shore I swam to collect a string bag. Swim back to boat, by now in a steady tidal current. Tie bag and self to anchor chain so do not drift away on tidal current. Gather handfuls of mussels and thrust in string bag while breathing through snorkell tube. Untie bag of mussels, now heavy, and tie to self. Untie self from anchor chain and start swim back to shore. Noticed heavy bag of mussels and tidal current were not exactly assisting in gaining speedy return to shore. Finally get heavy bag of mussels ashore. I tell you, after that lot I was quite happy to let Paul and Doug sort and clean them before cooking them up with garlic and chilli. Yummeee!

In the evening Doug, Helen and myself went out for a meal at our favorite little restaurant in the village square. Courie, our host endeared himself to us on a previous visit when, with Tanya on my lap, he playfully tickled her beard, then mine and with a huge smile on his face welcomed us to his restaurant.

Now; throughout the day there had also been a steady flow of alcohol of which I, with my new found 'non illness consumption capacity', had been enjoying. By the time Tanya and I staggered back to Sadie after our meal out plus 'a couple for the road' it was very late and I was distinctly, but happily, in alcohol assisted cloud cuckoo land.

"Toilet, I need the toilet." I muttered drunkenly.

I think at this point I need to warn you the following paragraphs may appear a wee bit unsavoury .... !!

It was late at night and finally there I was, enthroned upon the pondering stool donned only in shirt having dispensed with lower garments as the plan was to climb drunkenly into bed once arisen from one's relieving enthronement.

However; "Ahhhh!" I exclaimed to myself while regally enthroned. "I was going to empty the Thetford cassette tonight wasn't I?" Being dark the plan was to take it to the adjacent area of bushes and long grass, dig a hole empty it and leave the sight so no one would know. This is a task I have done regularly on this trip, but a task I have not done before while in a drunken haze.

Welly's were donned as the grass was damp and also someone had earlier reported seeing one of our slippery rope like cousins slithering through the grass. Shovel was grabbed in one hand and heavy grey and yellow Thetford cassette in the other. The operation went relatively smoothly with the fear of stepping or falling in the contents of said Thetford cassette seeming temporarily to concentrate the mind out of it's alcoholic effervescence.

When I started back was when it suddenly hit me. I was in waste ground and it was dark but all around were motorhomes and beyond them civilised things like houses and holiday apartments occupied no doubt by perfectly normal and sane people. In their midst on this thankfully dark night was a 65 year old man standing holding a shovel in one hand and a square grey plastic container, with distinct aroma, in the other. He was clad in green wellington boots, an unbuttoned shirt and ...... Nothing else!!

In my drunken stupor I had remembered to fling welly boots on but not my trousers.

I crouched down among the bushes and carefully looked around before swiftly covering the remaining ground to the safety of Sadie and my trousers. I swore there and then never to drink again as I nursed a badly thistle pricked backside.

Needless to say Doug, Helen and Paul were in fits of laughter the next day as I recounted the tale. And of course as the wine flowed the story took on some lurid and highly unsavoury twists. So much for no more drinking eh!

Sadly Doug and Helen have moved on now as it was time for them to start heading north toward a rendevous with their return ferry. Once more it is the Sadie, Tanya and Pensioner Steve team. Methinks a quiet few days on our own are in order. We will continue to enjoy the glorious hot sunny weather ...... without alcohol!!!

Wine, whisky, Dougy & Helen.

Helen was doubled up with laughter. Hair was flung awry and covering her face. In between spasms of laughter she was begging us to stop and insinuating there could be liquidity problems if we did not. 

No! Not at all; Douggy and I were not tickling her or indeed doing anything unsavoury. We were, however; all very inebriated after enjoying a wonderful 'Old codger 65 yr old pensioner' celebratory meal in the charming little village of 'Ferragudo' not 10 minutes away from our motorhomes. After a very wobbly walk back to Douggy & Helens motorhome Douggy popped open a can of his favourite beer while Helen and I continued downing the wine. This, by the way, was on top of the generous Glenmorange whisky tots that had, several hours previously, started the whole evening off.

Tanya and I had met up with D & H a few days ago at the 'Barragem St Clara' and we immediately hit it off. They have been together for many years with Douggy having done everything from playing in a Jazz band to delivering yachts across the Atlantic to renovating vintage cars and motorbikes. Just my kind of guy. Helen was tolerant of this 'mans talk'. She was laid back, and had her own fascinating life story. We soon discovered all three of us also liked a good laugh. Oh! And, as usual, they fell in love with Tanya.

My birthday was imminent with the weather seeming to offer better prospects back on the coast where I had just come from. So after a couple of wonderful days at 'Barragem St Clara' we headed in convoy back South to 'Portimao' and to the delightful wild camp spot I knew at 'Ferragudo'.

Poor Helen remained doubled up with laughter as Douggy and I, with liberal use of innuendo continued to drunkenly barter with oranges and tins of baked beans for ownership of said good lady. I, much later, staggered happily back to Sadie minus all my oranges, my one tin of baked beans and of course, no Helen. A really good evening with a lovely couple and one hell of a way to celebrate turning 65.

The next morning was another celebration. I awoke bright and early with no hangover or headache. Something that in my, pre 2005 heart attack years would have been unimaginable. I still live in profound wonderment of the fact much of my life prior to October 6 2005 was dominated by Migraine and it's associated debilitating affect. A heart attack, dying twice in fact, a stent, the proper meds to maintain the much improved blood circulation and hey presto; no migraines etc etc etc. 

Such a gift to be given. A new life.

However; I would not recommend it as a tried and tested Migraine cure.

Friends and not so friendly.

With all these keys a hanging and a jangling from my belt I must have looked like a gaoler as I walked across the central plaza area complete with it's plush swimming pool. Ian, my x brother in law and his wife Aju own a ground floor corner apartment in this plush golf oriented Condominium here in Villamoura. Their good friends and Keen golfers owned an apartment in the opposite corner where a plumber was busily engaged installing a new hot water boiler. Now plumbers being plumbers there was no way boiler was going to be installed within the rather optimistic 2 hour time slot allowed by Chris.

Crisis! What was to be done. The golf course was booked and paid for and others were waiting to be picked up. 

"Ahaaa!" Says Super-Steve. "You all get off and play your golf and I'll wait for Mr plumber to finish and join you later for the meal." 

 A large wad of cash, to pay Mr plumber, was hurriedly and unceremoniously thrust into my hand along with 2 sets of apartment keys. I then watched as, complete with golfing paraphernalia, they all disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. Well there would have been dust if it hadn't rained about an hour before.

Sadie was very conveniently parked roadside right outside Ian and Aju's apartment. Her keys were of course also a dangling and a jangling from my belt. Everything turned out well. I had plenty of time to enjoy a leisurely shower and do various other tasks in readiness for us to hit the road once again after a very pleasant few days spent with Ian and Aju.

Three hours later boiler was in and I was duly instructed as to it's operation before handing over money and obtaining signature receipt. Jangling and dangling keys then locked up both apartments, started Sadie and off we went to liase with the golfing crowd at 'Armacao de Pera'. "just keep going right down to the beach, you can't go any further, we'll find you." They had said. "Recipe for disaster." I thought. However; all was OK and we did meet up successfully to enjoy a good meal in a lovely old family run Portuguese restaurant.

A dangling and a jangling keys were handed over and boiler operating instructions duly repeated. We were all by that time however; a bit inebriated so I'm not sure whether what I said was heard properly or indeed whether what I said actually made any sense at all.

Then; all of a sudden there we were. Tanya and I once again alone and walking back to Sadie in her beachfront car park ready to settle in for the night.

I was glad to climb into my comfy bed and dropped straight off to sleep. A good nights sleep however; was unfortunately not on the agenda. Just after midnight the local youth plus there boom boxes on wheels started to arrive. Car doors were opened, boom box volume was turned up and it quickly became obvious this was their patch, their time for a party and consequently time for Super-Steve to mutter a few obscenities, drag himself out of bed, start up Sadie and move on.

There was no problem and 'the youth' were all in good humour. The booze was flowing though with everything happening just a little too close to Sadie, like right next to her, for it to be comfortable. And the night was only just starting.

Middle of the night. Strange area. Where do you go? Fortunately we were not too far from a lovely wild camp spot at 'Ferragudo', just East of 'Portimao' right on the river opposite the port. The location was soon programmed into Mrs Satnav and she faultlessly guided us there along the quiet, dark and empty night time roads. By 2am we were all once again snuggly settled surrounded by unbroken peace and quiet.

At 8am a bloody German cruise ship arrived at 'Portimao' and sounded its foghorn 3 times as a welcome. I thought the world had come to an end and Tanya, frightened out of her skin, fell off her night time perch of drivers seat and without further ado leapt onto my bed, burrowed under the duvet and, trembling like a jelly in an earthquake, snuggled up close to me.

Not the best of nights. Today we have remained here at 'Ferragudo' and enjoyed a day of beautiful weather. We capitalised on it by exploring 'Portimao' on the bike ending up at the beach end / resort which was very civilized and very attractive too.

-  -  -

Friday April 5th and here we are at 'Barragem St Clara' inland and north of 'Silves' - not impressed with Sives. Full of motorhomes and as usual here in Portugal Tanya is not allowed in anything remotely resembling a tourist attraction. From that particular perspective Portugal and me are rapidly falling out.

But onto 'Monchique' we go. OK but wet and cold. We followed the tourist signs up to the old convent. Now you would think, seeing as there were brown tourist signs directing you to it, there would be something to see. Well in a way there was. And indeed it was a dangerously old and crumbling convent with signs all over it indicating it was now occupied by a private family. However private family turned out to be enterprising as they had left one narrow entrance where they duly shepherded the tourists in to what, from the inside was an even more dangerously crumbling ruin with nothing left of it apart from one small section of intricately curved roof held precariously in place by some rickety looking timber scaffolding. The enterprising family were obviously occupying it as evidenced by their chickens, goats and further bits of rickety scaffolding supporting the walls and roof of the bit they were in. €5.00 were duly handed over to the distinctly weird looking character holding out a tin at the exit. As we walked away I felt as though I had just walked around some dingy but genuine horror movie house. The upside was the fact Tanya was allowed in  and of course the fact we had exited safely without the whole lot collapsing in a heap of damp and green weed infested masonry directly on top of us! All in all, most peculiar.

Helen has been Tanya and I's companion today kindly loaned to us by her long term partner Douggy who, having arthritic problems does not do much walking. They are from the Isle of Wight and here on a two month tour in their motorhome. We have enjoyed a lovely day and a good walk, in good weather for a change, all along the valley and the hills adjacent to this huge man made lake with its impressive dam. We are parked at one end of the dam (Barragem) in a lovely quiet and level picnic type area. Helen, Tanya and I returned from our walk by actually walking up one end of the steeply sloping and rock faced dam. A good choice with Helen, who was easily bamboozled into this crazy return route, and I not realizing the immensity of the dam until we were half way up and she decided to look down. The rest of the way up was lovely as she held my hand ever so tightly, did'nt say much and took on a fetching shade of ashen white.

All was well however; and once we reached the safety of the road on top of the dam she could not wait to relate to Douggy how we had just walked up the actual dam and ..... "Wow! It was amazing."  For me ..... A very pleasant walk with charming female company. A nice change for both Tanya and myself.

West, as usual = wet wet wet. + relatives.

"Goodness Tanya, wet it may be but we are not freezing cold and sat in 300mm of snow like in the UK."

This was said as once again we managed to reach Sadie just before the heavens opened up with the latest shower. The result, according to the weather forecasters, of the same changing weather patterns that are also viciously affecting the UK at present. I also know personally how vicious it is as my agent confirmed my new tenant is now safely installed despite 300mm of snow affecting the house on moving in day.

Despite the rain we have managed 3 days in a campsite at 'Quarteria' where, thanks to Sadie's generous 4.5m awning, some rope and the two sheets I carry, a good laundry was accomplished plus Tanya now smells and looks better.

For the first time too we witnessed and were harassed by the atypical 'English lout'. The afternoon was giving notice of brightening up with prospect of a pleasant evening. Out comes bike and off we go, for miles seeing as it is seafront promenade most of the way. 'Vilamoura' marina complete with it's line of floating plastic Millionaire yaghts is soon reached. As we slowly cycle round the busy touristy bars and restaurants a drunken voice rings out loud and clear. 

"hey, will ya getta fu****g look at this fu****g dog on rhe back of this fu****g prats fu****g bike!!"

 Whereupon about six of them piled out of the bar and began chasing after me accompanied by group rendering of various obscenities which have already been alluded too. The front was crowded. I could not speedily pedal out of harms way. Happily they were so drunk they could hardly stand never mind engage in vigorous pursuit.  I think a guy I passed walking with his family quietly tripped one of them up as when I looked back from a safe distance all I could see was a melee of drunken male bodies trying to extricate themselves from a heap of their own making. They did not resume the chase and probably could not even remember what they were chasing. I returned by another route. So sad though and made me ashamed to think they were from the same country as myself.

At present it is another wet, wet, wet evening in a park alongside other motorhomes overlooking the main beach at 'Sagres'. We 'spit tarmac' once we left the Quarteria campsite arriving here yesterday. We have visited ''Cabo Sao Vicente' the most South Westerly point on the European mainland. Very impressive with its sheer crumbling and very high cliffs the base of which are continually pounded by the relentless swell of the Atlantic. I could very well imagine how, in earlier times, this place was viewed as the end of the flat world.

Equally impressive were the Portuguese fishermen who perched atop the very edge of this 'end of the world'. With their long flexible rods they hauled fish out from the foaming fury hundreds of metres below them. I watched as one short, wiry, Mediterranian brown local hauled 3 good sized fish out in as many minutes. One nearly hit me as the wind caught his line plus accompanying wriggling and sparkling silvery fish and swung it way out behind him and right over my quickly ducked head.

A quiet meander along the delightful back roads of this Algarve coastline has brought us once again back to the golf resort of 'Vilamoura'  I will remain for a few days as My x brother in law Ian and his charming wife Aju have a villa in one of the Condominiuns here and Sadie is snuggled up to their hedge just outside their gate. They are regular visitors and a couple of very pleasant days have been passed in their company.

Watching the Skyfall James Bond movie on their big telly last night was a real treat. A wee (rather large 'wee' actually) whisky with it and I slept like a log last night. Mind you; rascal Tanya still woke me at half seven this morning wanting her early morning walk. Hmmmmm!!

Portugal, Reflections & more rain.

Yup; hit Portugal, Algarve, a couple of days ago and straight into Motorhome world big time. They are everywhere, hundreds of them, big, small, mega big with trailer loads of cars behind them. Mostly Dutch, German, and French with a smattering of British. Every little bit of space between beach and resort has Motorhomes on it. Most is free parking with, I was told, more and more charging barriers being installed. That does not suprise me. We spent one night amid these 'main road' silver surfer type Motorhomers before this morning, just after a thunderous deluge, we headed out with sat nav set for the rural hinterland and the wee roads. As usual we have enjoyed a delightful drive through, admittedly damp, countryside to our present wild spot high on a hill surrounded by pine woods, spring flowers and overlooking 'Barragem Odiliette."

And guess what? We have not seen another Motorhome all day.

Peace, quiet and very pleasant walking. A beautiful afternoon of meditative calm has been spent here. This happens so often. Driving along slowly and happily when a spot with an eye catching view presents itself. In we go for a quick look and there we stay.

The bonus with this particular spot is a really good 3G internet reception. Radio 2 clear and consistent. A real treat.

Rural Portugal first impressions are; - it is less populated, villages are smaller, more agricultural, and far less commercial. Hills and winding roads are more gentle but there are a lot more 'unmetalled' (no tarmac) minor roads. We have already delved down a few of these. One to view two old windmills atop a hill. The first was a real ruin whereas the second one had big stone mill wheels in place and old wooden peg cogs still attached to the main windmill shaft. A journey back in time that one was.

The other 'unmetalled road led down to a beautiful sheltered and sunny spot by the side of 'Rib (river) Foupana.'

"Wow Tanya! Will you just look at this for a wildcamping spot eh!"

She had jumped out as soon as we had stopped but strangely had not gone wandering off but had soon returned to Sadie. I stepped out and walked the few paces to the riverbank and just stood there taking in the warm sunshine on my back, the sound of frogs and the sight of smooth slow flowing water imparting that same slowing down back to me. Also the sensation on the legs ..... Sensation on the legs? ...... What the .... ruddy hell ......!! All of a sudden calm and peace were gone and I was jumping around while slapping at legs and brushing squillions of ants off.

The ground was crawling with them, all along this particular section of the riverbank. I don't think I have ever seen such a wide area so heavily populated by the industrious little beasties. They were everywhere and quite frankly had me amazed by their sheer number and density. I would liken it to the whole earth being a big city but one that is overcrowded to an unimaginable level. 

"My goodness Tanya they are already half way up Sadie's wheels and tyres. Time for us to exit eh!".

 And we did. Not without taking a few guests along either!! I'm still coming across the odd one or two this morning here at our lonely out of the way, but ant free, spot by a wee 'Barragem' (dam) somewhere North of Tavira on the N397. Beautiful it was last night. This morning though it is pishing down once more. I'm not worried though as it is as the forecast predicted with the rest of the week looking goodish.

We take our time on these wet mornings and I often read for a while. At present I am working my way slowly through 'Les Miserables' by Victor Hugo. I notice a remarkable coincidence. I read of the godly Bishop of D...  shunning his new Bishops Palace and instead swopping it for the much smaller hospital which is attached to said Bishops Palace. The Bishop of D ... is very much a man for, and of, the poor and an anathema to the norm of the day which was the regal pomp, sumptuousness and greed that Bishopry endowed upon it's encumbents.

So. I have a days internet access via my phone and as I catch up with world news I read of the new Pope Francis shunning his regal red cloak and exclaiming when first shown the papal apartment. 'You could get 300 poor people in here.'

"Wow!" I thinks. "The Bishop of D.... has finally reached Rome!"

Well good on yu Popey boy. You stir em up but God help you mate, and if he aint gonna help you then I guess we're all in bovver, cos you got a direct line and all that. But you definitely got one hell, if you see what I mean like, and excuse the pun, one hell of a job on you're hands!

Hmmmm! Guess I need to meditate/reflect upon that for a wee while yet ehh!! :-)

-  -  - 

TAVIRA

We like Tavira. Well actually more to rhe point we like this particular wildcamping spot just up from the beach and on the salt marsh estuary about 1 km from the town. Opposite is 'Isla de Tavira' a popular tourist spot with a passenger only ferry just up from us but on the opposite bank of a smaller river.

This will be our third night here and still not another motorhome in sight. I'm quite surprised really as there is plenty of space. Mind you once you leave the nice paved track leading to a posh hotel the track is a bit rough. I found that to my cost this morning!

The day dawned, and stayed, beautiful. An ideal beach, sunbathing and canoe day. I moved Sadie about 150m to where the track ends on the beach. There is a  turning area there and guess who was rather silly, mis-judged it and got Sadie's front end well and truly stuck in soft sand. Took me half an hour of shoveling sand, fetching and laying down rocks under her wheels before, with fingers crossed and engine revving I let the clutch in. There was a shudder and a bumping and then, thankfully she shot backwards and clear of her predicament. This by the way was much to the amusement of all the locals who were now also starting to arrive to take advantage of the fine weather and the very low tides. Bucket loads of all sorts of shellfish were seen arriving at peoples cars as the day wore on.

Once I had correctly parked Sadie I quickly filled in the deep and incriminating ruts Sadie had just extricated herself from. Hmmmm; another lesson learned. Motorhomes and soft sand are not the most supportive of companions!

Anyway; on with the day and in particular blowing up canoe, loading lunch and Tanya into it and paddling over to 'Isla de Tavira.' While over there I lugged canoe over the dunes and onto the wave ridden beaches on the Atlantic side. Now that was good fun with, I have to say, a word of caution. Blow up canoes and steep waves equal frequent rinse cycles for the guy holding the paddle. It was not long before Tanya, who during this escapade remained beach side, welcomed her bedraggled master back and trotted happily alongside as he lugged said canoe, now like himself, decidedly wet, back to the calm side of the sandspit where we stopped for a welcome lunch. Great fun even though it reminded me once again that I am not a youngster anymore. I remember windsurfing days where rinse cycles in waves were tolerated for hours on end. Half an hour today and 3 good dunkings and I was k k k knackered!!

The day before it was 'Vitineria' time for Tanya once more. She has developed a bit of an ear infection which was not getting any better. I have to say my first experience of a Portugese Vet was a good one. He was very amiable, knew his stuff and spoke a smattering of English. Hopefully the twice daily drops of medical goo plus cleaning out the ear with cotton wool buds will do the trick. Tanya of course does not like the treatment but she does seem a little less agitated today and is once again starting to flap her ears noisily and normally.

-  -  -

Saturday March 23. Another wet day unfortunately with the forecast not looking good for travelling onward in a westward direction. I'm on a campsite for 3 days. The rain is not helpful when the plan is to catch up on washing drying etc. However; I am aware all of you back there in the UK are having it far worse than me with heavy snow, flooding etc.

Guess I'll stay down hear a for maybe just a wee while yet!

The last bits of Spain ..... for now.

"I guess that last shrug of the shoulders means; be it on your head then foreign hombre" I muttered this to myself as 'Mi Capitana' of the wee ferry across the 'Guadalqivir river' at 'Coria del Rio' gave an accomplished yawn and strolled back down the slipway to ferry the next load across.

To give him his due he had spotted me waiting and left his ferry to tell me the slipway on the opposite bank was steeper than this side and prone to damage anything with an overhang at the back. We managed language wise between us to decide he would take the by now loaded ferry across while I pumped up Sadie's airbags to give greater rear end clearance. This technique plus the hefty towbar slung underneath Sadie's delicate plastic rear end has on several occasions saved the day and any possible damage.

Thus it proved on this occasion too. There was a scrunch as we boarded when towbar bottomed slightly. No concern to me but excited rearward looks and increased Spanish chatter from all the moped mounted homeward bound agricultural workers. Admittedly there was a louder even more exciting scrunch as we disembarked but again no problems with plenty of throttle giving a brisk, determined and smooth transit to dry land. I stopped up the road to deflate the airbags and check for any damage. None at all on Sadie and I certainly was not going to walk back to check the ferry! These occasions serve to remind me how lucky I was when I purchased Sadie. All these little extras which had been added, and which I did not appreciate at the time, have proved to be invaluable during our travels.

The ferry crossing was not on the map. Well; not until after the event that is, at which point I examined the map in more detail with the magnifying glass! We had done our usual, got off the main roads and gone rural. This also enabled us to avoid the large metropolis of Seville as we negotiated 'Parque Nacional de Donana' just north of 'Sanlucar de Barrameda.'  This huge low lying area of river 'Guadalquivir' estuary  marshland tends to be much sought out by birdwatchers as it is a major birdy type motorway service area on the migratory route of numerous birds. Certainly there were some fantastic big Heron like birds flying around who seemed to be continually having to protect nests from gulls and some other predatory hawk like bird.

Flamingos too. A huge flock of them espied while Tanya and I were on a forward scouting mission on the bike to check if the track/road was motorhomable. It was albeit slowly!! A lovely 2 days were enjoyed in this area completely on our own apart from one ranger gently reminding me the area is a 'Parque Nacional' and as such no camping is allowed. Very tactful he was as it was morning and pretty obvious that I had been there all night. He did not raise the subject so neither did I.

After the excitement of the ferry we kicked main road tarmac for a while and stopped for a wet wet night on the side of a wide gravel track about 10k short of Huelva on the other side of Donana Parque at a soulless resort called 'Matalascanas.'

Right now, Wed March 13 at 10am it is sunny but cool and we are neatly hidden behind some bushes which render us out of sight of the busy road about 200m away. We are just West of 'Punta Umbria' and deep within sand dunes where I can see the Atlantic washing in over the numerous shallow sandbanks. We've been out for an early morning walk along the beach. As usual we just kept walking and did miles more than originally intended. Really good though feeling the cobwebs of the mind lifting as the beauty of the morning unfolds.

I miss Kate on these walks probably more than at any other time. However; as Buddhist Psychology points out. 'Examine thought for reality.' Yes true, and I have to admit most 'beach walking' Kate and I enjoyed, and as such the root of these arisen memories, were on similar beaches but in really hot June/July weather and with little clothing on.

The reality. A March morning at 8am on a sunny and gorgeous looking Spanish beach wrapped up in scarf and big warm coat against the bitter North West wind whipping down and sandblasting you.

Reality is also Tanya simply delighting in this environment and doing 10k for every 5k of mine. She, Tanya that is, and her delight on these beach walks is the continuation of the love Kate and I shared. Kate, either consciously or not, new what she was doing bringing Tanya into our lives. I could not wish for a more loving and understanding companion for my travels.

Yes that's right, I did say understanding ..... she has to be as she listens so patiently and attentively to all my frequent idiotic drivels and ramblings. I am afraid the reality is that now I would quickly drive a real wife bonkers!

Ah well; back to present time and even more reality. S'ppose I had better wash up, wash myself and make the bed etc. Mmmmm, warming up now too. Guess then it'll be time for coffee outside in the sun. Gosh by then it should be lunch time. 

"Tanya. I gotta a kind of feelin we aint gonna be movin from here today. Whaddya reckon?   ..... Tanya ...... TAANYAA ......"  Oh! there she is over there among the dunes .... tail up and happy as a travellin dune surfin doggy can be."

-  -  -  -

I did not remain alone in the dunes for long as up rolled 'Lord Liberty', an older and bigger motorhome who discharged 2 young family's where Mums and Dads sported dreadlocks but who, though Belgian, spoke good English. They were all just great company and even there 1yr old Collie called Monty was tolerated well and became quite good company for Tanya.

Canoe was soon out and on the water. I had fun paddling around with Tanya across the tidal channel to the exposed at low tide sandbanks. However; I have to admit to having even more fun as I watched these two swarthy dreadlocked, bearded and fully clothed Dads towing their respective daughters around in the canoe and of course getting totally sea soaked themselves in the process. 

"No worry heh, n great fun" were the jist of the comments as canoe and bedraggled Dads appeared over the dunes some considerable time after young daughters had toddled back along the beach to their Mums. It has been a real privilege to share time with them. It may continue too as they also are Portugal bound and share the same taste in wildcamping sites as myself.

Guess we could quite easily bump into 'Lord Liberty' again.

Rain. Rollerblades & Costa de la Luz.

"Sixty km and they do'nt have the right adaptor. What we gonna do now Tanya?" 

The Repsol garage in Marbella was right there in front of us Exactly as predicted by Mrs Satnav. 'You have reached your destination.' She helpfully added. 

"Thank you Mrs Sat nav." I say as we draw up alongside the LPG pump ready to replenish our gas supply. 

I walk into the service shop and the young girl, anticipating my request, lays out the adaptors on the counter. All bar the one I need that is. In her broken English she shrugs and says; 

"Yes. I ave want lots time Euro adapteur. Boss say manyana get one. He no do." 

In reply, and in my excellent Spanish, I say; "No worry girl. Gimme two wash tokens and two drier tokens for the lavada instead."

 Well it was raining, we'd come a long way and these lavadas (Laundrettes) attached to some Repsol garages have really good industrial type washing machines with a thirty minute cycle that seems to do a good job. Not being able to replenish my one nearly empty gas bottle was not too much of a disaster as we are headed Cadiz way where there is another refill point. Mind you if they have no adaptor Stevey boy could be in a bit of bovver then.

So; back to Algeciras for the evening with all clean clothes and bedding. A drive I was glad to see the back of as the rain was torrential. A few days earlier I had noticed cars parked on the river bed as I drove over the big wide bridge. That river bed was now in full flow. I presume the car owners were local and moved them. If they did'nt then those cars should be well on their way to Morrocco by now!

I've been hanging round the Gibralter/Algeciras area for two reasons. One is I need to decide whether I am going over to Morocco or not. Two; I have a rotten cold which has laid me low physically and mentally. I guess it matches the weather which, according to the charts is here to stay for a week or so and is fairly widespread, even to Northern Morocco. So there was no driving out of it. Best to just find a quiet spot and sit it out.

Today, however; which is Tuesday March 5, we have made a move. Not far but quite significant as we have moved from the Med to the Atlantic coast. Tarifa to be specific. We are wild in a parking area much favoured by Kite Surfers for which this area is a mecca. Wow! They are fun to watch and I would love to have a go. The area is a huge sandy Atlantic facing beach stretching for miles.

Tomorrow we'll take a bike ride into Tarifa itself. Who knows I might just enquire as to how much a beginners Kite surfing course costs for a doddery old UK pensioner. (nearly anyway .... only one more month to go .... is it 'whoopee' or is it ...  'omg! am  I really THAT old'!) If nothing else it will give some cool Spanish surfing dude the laugh of his life as he grasps fully the incredulous stupidity of the weird looking old British guy stood in front of him.

"Hey Juan, Juan, look look at this scruffy old hombre, he has a dog with a beard attached to him and he wants to skim across the foaming Atlantic ocean while hanging onto one of our rather large, but everso colourful, blow up kites!
Tell him Juan, tell him, I have no kite boards with bath chairs attached!!".

Exit shop leaving cool Spanish surfing dude and Juan holding each other up lest the uncontrollable belly laughter they are both exhibiting at their own joke should floor them.

-  -  -  -
Next day.

You know there is something very satisfying about waking up in a motorhome as it gently rocks in gusty Atlantic force 4 to 5' winds; especially after a night of sporadic, and at times quite fierce, squally showers. The experience is enhanced by a cup of tea, opening up the blinds on Sadie's panoramic windscreen and then going back to bed to watch the huge waves crashing and foaming in across the expanse of sandy beach laid out before us.

Well that was 2 hours ago. We are now up, Tanya has been walked, I'm showered and breakfasted and outside the Kite-surfers are starting to arrive in force. There is a large area of flat water between the shallow dunes just in front of Sadie and the the gentle convex hump of flat wave washed sand which takes the full force of the Atlantic fury. A couple of brave souls have crossed this divide and are out there amid the foaming mass of breakwater. The majority however, are sticking to the large shallow flat water strip and are skimming along at incredible speed.. There is leaping high into the air as well with somersaults performed while hanging beneath the colourful seagull wing shaped Kite sails.

I guess the bike ride into Tarifa is not going to happen. No laughs for Cool Spanish surfing dude. I think they are all out here anyway. There is a van with a couple being tutored just in front of me. A young fit couple. No sign of doddery old pensioners. Yeeeees! I think this old pensioner is quite happy to stay for today and watch the action.

"C'mon Tanya lets get the doddery old pensioner's wetproof gear on and go for a long trek across the dunes, which conveniently has a lovely walkway stretching away into the distance. There you are see, pensioners catered for as well!
-   -   -   -
About 3 days later

We've had a day of sunshine! Yippeeee! Mind you, right now, at 2000hrs here in 'Chipiona' North of Cadiz it is once again pishing down! My German neighbour tells me it is going to stay wet n windy all day tomorrow too. However; it is also 23 degrees which is OK!

Morocco is for next year. Not sure why really. Bit of nervousness, cannot be bothered, looked as bleak and wet as it was in Tarifa. Don't really know. All I do know is all of a sudden we moved and started travelling up toward Cadiz along the 'Costa de la Luz'.

Very different. Undeveloped, very 'Spanish' and not too friendly to 'Acamparcar' either with notices all over banning you from parking and indicating; 'this municipality has campsites which you are kindly directed to.' "OK" I thought I'll respect that. I did too until the first one I was 'directed to' turned out to be closed. So I wildcamped in the port area of 'Barbate' instead but got moved off that pitch by a very apologetic 'Policia Puerta' gentleman in a nice green uniform, peaked cap and sub machine gun!

I sort of expected it so was not too worried. There was a large area of open ground opposite the port so I moved there and was not troubled again. Interestingly as I walked Tanya the next morning we had to negotiate our way around a rather large pile of straw liberally dosed with elephant droppings in order to get to a forest park. Turns out just up from us was a circus in their winter quarters. When we left a little later large pile of straw also contained contents of Sadies Thetford cassette. I only needed two elephant doo daas to cover it all up. Brilliant!

We got to Cadiz today. The original intention was to park up somewhere in bike range of the city and spend the day there. Surprisingly it was easy to drive right into, and around, the centre and the attractive old city and port area.  What was not easy was to park a largish motorhome. We did find one spot but it was on a narrow street with a busy flow of traffic going by. I risked it as Tanya was itching for a walk and donning rollerblades we did, a first for us, a rollerblade walk along part of the 'Playa de Cortadura' seafront prom.

Yes Rollerblades! We keep ending up on all these wonderful long smooth promenades and seeing 'young things' rollerblading effortlessly along them.

"Well, its just as daft as kite surfing but on balance slightly more achievable" says I.

Also it was a wet and fed up type of day there at Algeciras next door to the huge retail park with a 'Decathlon' discount sports store just inviting us in. And there they were. Black shiny with easy whizz round wheels and all for €39.00 knocked down from €89.00. Fraid they very quickly became mine courtesy of Mr Mastercard!

Doing the Tanya walk was the most adventurous I've been on them so far. In fact I'm still a bit shaky on them really but they are good and I'm sure with a little more practise I too will be whizzing efforessly along all the wide and smooth promenades. Alternativly I could be ........ Nahhhhh! not really. I'm being everso everso careful. Honest!

Anyway back to Cadiz. We could not stay in the 'unsuitable' parking spot for more than an hour so we moved on till we realized that any suitable parking was so far out as to make a bike visit impractical. So we continued on to 'Jerez de la Frontera' where Mrs Satnav very accurately directed us to a Repsol garage with LPG AND the correct adaptor for filling. From there it was but a short hop to 'Chipiona' where espied on the seafront right by the harbour were three other motorhomes.

"That'll do us Tanya eh!" I said as we neatly reversed in at respectable distance from my neighbour.
-   -   -
Next morning.

'Gosh I am k k ker-nackered'. The sun is shining and we have discovered we are at the port end of about a 6km long smooth and well maintained promenade. Surfers were out, churchgoers were emptying out and strolling along and there, in the middle of it all was this foreigner with a pair of sandals hanging round his neck careering along on rollerblades with a little black dog trying to keep up with him. He was a bit wobbly at times too.

The good side to this story is I did not fall on my arse once. I also, at times, seemed to be whizzing along just like them there young things I mentioned earlier. The locals, curiously, seemed to love stopping and staring goggle eyed at this spectacle. They then repeated this goggle eyed scenario as 20m further on they came across a miniature Schnauzer with pink tongue hanging out trotting along on 3 or 4 legs, as is her want, trying to keep up with the crazy foreigner.

Ho hum. All things possible when living the life of a wanderer!!

Ronda and a 'not a road'.

Ronda is all it's cracked up to be. Most impressive. Look it up on the www. However; it was cold. Freezing at night with a wicked NE wind. The sun was out though and Tanya and I enjoyed a good explore. We saw all the touristy bits and worked our way back to Sadie via the crowded narrow streets full of all sorts of wee shops. I'm afraid they did not get much trade from me. I would have stopped for a bite to eat but a cold and blustery Tuesday evening in February seems to mean closed restaurants around all the touristy parts. Everywhere else seemed to be bars with the usual knots of men plus their beer. I certainly did not fancy a Big Mac which of course was open.

The big 'China City' warehouse next to us at our edge of town parking spot did get some trade however. I could not resist a browse around the cavernous interior with it's shelves full of everything you need for whatever, whenever and of course stuff to buy when really you don't need a damm thing! I came out with a fold flat step. Admittedly something I've been on the look out for to enable me to reach those bits of Sadie that lie just beyond stretched fingertips atop toppy toes. It works too and folds/stores neatly away.

Ronda slowly dropped behind us as we headed down the main road toward 'Algeciras'. Main road did I say? Well; you know how I dislike main roads dont you! So when the mountain road to 'Farajan', 'Jubrique' and finally to the main road again at 'Algatocin' , presented itself invitingly, even though I had given myself a serious talking to about; "for once Steve, lets just do main roads eh?" I just sort of drifted onto it. Well before you could say 'Spanish mountain goat sh*t' there we were soaring. Flying in fact. Really it was like that. High up on ziggy zaggy roads and looking down on tiny whitewashed mountain villages clinging to hillsides way way below us.

"Wow! Am I glad we came this way Tanya. This is something else!"

Only the 'something else' turned out to be also way way below us at the bottom of the mountain where of course we eventually had to go. At first it was not too bad. A narrowing road with evidence of landslips and various bits of tarmac sliding away on the inside of some of the tighter bends. The first ford was fun and had good tarmac on both sides.

Then the tarmac disappeared. Some could occasionally be seen buried under the landslips from the steep banks of unstable ground here at the valley bottom. The road followed the river and criss crossed it in several places. We were in rough track and pothole territory which was passable and thankfully dry apart from the fords. There were vehicle tracks to follow. My surmising was as follows; 

"It's a bloody long way back, this is risky but fun,  Tanya has already figured out I'm crazy, soooo .... as long as it stays dry and the track is not completely blocked ..... What the hell lets go for it!"

The valley bottom was slow. I had to fill one large pothole in the middle of a ford with stones and on another, a wee bit of levelling with my spade was required before Sadie bumpilly sailed across.

Then, as you do, we started uphill. What can I say except never again will I doubt Sadies ability and willingness to join me in the game called ... 'lets pretend we're a 4wd Landrover and go where only 4wd Landrovers are supposed to go!' Tarmac on this section was unheard of and steep narrow and dodgy looking bends were briefly reconoitred with Sadie being then flung at them in first gear. She never failed and grunted round and through them spitting out bits of mountainside from her rear wheels to go tumbling away to the valley bottom which, very slowly was being placed way way below us again.

There was 6km of this slow heart in the mouth, not for motorhomes, stupid even to try, track through the mountains before finally, with a whoop of joy and relief we hit tarmac again. It stayed hairy till we hit 'Jubrique' where normal service was resumed. Quite boring really!!

We overnighted on a flat wide gravel track between a railway and the river further on down the main road. There was an unbelievable, almost frightening thunderstorm overnight. Tanya trembled with fear while cuddled up as close as she could get to me under the duvet. I just lay there and thanked the various Gods & Godess's for letting us get clear of the mountains before putting on this tremendous show of force. I felt sure the thunderous torrents of rain drumming on Sadies roof would also be washing numerous fresh landslips across the rough tracks we had slowly negotiated during the day.

-  -  -

We arrived at 'La Linea de la Concepcion' today. Bike was unloaded, passport stuffed into pocket and Gibralter here we come. 43 years ago I was here on HMS Eagle. Nostalgia.

Malaga & Benalmadena.

As you go west away from Malaga port and town centre area you walk / cycle along the lovely promenade which eventually peters out. It is next to a major road. Inland of this busy road are all the supermarkets, B&Q type stores and of course MacDonalds. It is a huge out of town retail area.

On the beach side is a large empty area, roughish and not too far from a big block of flats. We had spotted this as we walked along the promenade after a sleep after our drive back down from the mountains after a rough night parked at a beautiful spot overlooking the coast. We could see right down to Fuengirola and Eastwards all the way to Almeria. Such a spot, giving such wonderful views is high and exposed but as we parked the sun was setting, the breeze was cool but pleasant and all was well in Steve, Sadie and Tanya's world.

Aha! You say, what's coming here? You'd be right too.

The weather closed in overnight and it was a rocky, but not too scary a night with strong mountain gusts coming from all directions coupled with rain. In the morning we awoke to no view, thick fog and wet wet wet.

Shame really as the previous day had been bright and sunny. We had enjoyed a wonderful drive up to the mountain top village of 'Comares'. Stunning views from the parapets and an old lady who cunningly lured me into her house for the sole purpose of ..... no it is not what you're thinking, some of that comes later! .... selling me Mandarin Oranges, Figs and currants!

I was now getting short of Mandarins so for once I quite happily allowed myself to be relieved of €10 in exchange for a big bag of locally produced goods plus for good measure some of the old lady's home made cake that tastes of liquorice. She was an expert saleswoman and I chuckled to myself as I left. It was worth €10 just to see inside this traditional and right on the tourist village trail house with it's old couple and one other resident. This other resident happened to be the Virgin Mary and child. Pictures and statues of whom adorned every available space. We parted on good terms and as I left she stuffed another generous handful of plump juicy raisins into my bulging plastic bag.

The mountains beat us back down to sea level and Malaga in particular. High, twisty and narrow mountain roads are a delight in dry sunny weather but no fun in pouring rain and heavy mist.

So here we were sitting and chatting in Wills van which was parked just behind mine. Will was originally from Edinburgh but has lived near Amsterdam for long enough for him to be slightly uncomfortable speaking English. He was on a ten week trip in his large twin axle and very comfy motorhome. Will was on his own like me and we quickly became good friends with our shared interest in Buddhist based meditation. A lovely, genuine and gentle man.

"There is some strange stuff goes on here at night" says Will. A large dark area on the edge of the good and the not so good end of a busy port and tourist town does not need a lot of imagination to figure out what went on. Sure enough, Once it got dark there were all sorts of comings and goings of cars etc. But Peppi, a local who also lived there in his van said they never bothered the motorhomes and true enough they did'nt which was good as being able to park right on the beach with nothing but sand and sea in front of you is a real bonus.

The German guy, bit younger than Will and I, who was just to the side of me was also on his own. I was therefore most surprised when early this morning as Tanya and I walked past his van on our early morning walk we were greeted with a cheery "Good Morning" from a young ladies head poking out of his window which on his van would have been the bedhead. I was with Will much later when we saw him getting his motor scooter off the van then loading young lady onto it and presumably returning her from whence she came.

'Hmmmm!" I thought. "Maybe I ought to get a motor scooter!"

Tonight though all such shenanagins are about 20k behind. We are parked for the night right by the big Buddhist Stupa, where I've just attended a lovely Sunday night public guided meditation, here at 'Benalmadena'.

Chris, Michelle and the children have holidayed near here and Chris, in a recent e mail, mentioned a Buddhist Temple. A Stupa is a sort of a temple but there is no monastery attached. A thriving local Buddhist movement based around the 'Karmapa Kagyu' lineage tradition take care of it, run a little Tibetan Buddhist shop and guide the meditations. Much of the development here is very architecturally Tibetan with gold pagoda roofs and stupa shaped windows. Very attractive.

For me there is a strong energy here. The large Buddha inside the temple is the female, Green Tara emanation of Buddha. It is very much the equivalent of, and right next door to, cos the sign to it is just outside Sadie's door, an Our Lady of Lourdes Grotto.

I guess this coastline has always had it's powerful icons to the Gods of the day with numerous examples of extravagant Muslim settlements, forts and Mosques plus the equivalent Christian defences shrines and Cathederals. Often they are built one atop the other on a sort of last in gets to build a monument basis. It feels now, as I travell down this highly developed and populated coast that humanity has gone right back to the pre Christian Romans with their many Gods, temples and amphitheatres. Only now the Gods are oil based rampant consumerism, cars, sex, drugs and alcohol with the monuments being the never ending, but never the less impressive, strips of hotels, casinos, bars, restaurants and shops. Oh! And must not forget the carefully manicured strips of sand with there sun worshippers of course.

So it is good to come across this very prominent, large and viewable from miles around, symbol of a deep and ancient spiritual tradition now spilling over into the west after being routed from it's traditional and secretive Tibetan homeland. I love too how it enhances and in no way distracts from the traditional feminine Virgin Mother side of Christianity prominent here in Southern Europe.

"Right Tanya. C'mon. Suns up and warming this distinctly cold but clear morning. Time you n me found some rampant and decadent western God. We'll go look for the one they call a Cafe and worship at the alter of a freshly made Americano Coffee!"

Nerja, memories & rain.

Rain was persistently falling on us as we pulled in to a level and empty gravel car park not 200m from a roughish sea depositing itself with customary foamy whiteness on the steep pebbly beach. There was the usual sign as we entered; 'Prohibido Acampacar'. I have got used to ignoring these as I become more competent at seeking out the little spots slightly away from the main touristy bits where you see 'Acampacars' stopped all over the place. No wonder the 'Policia' move them on.

Tanya and I had already enjoyed a good early morning walk in Nerja before the rain started. A walk which gave a bonus discovery of a crystal clear water irrigation catchment right by the roadside where later I was able to park Sadie and replenish our dwindling water supply.

We had overnighted in Nerja one street back from the 'Burriana' sea front and next to the steep and many steps entrance to the complex of apartments where Kate and I had spent a glorious week several years ago. We had one week walking in the Sierra Nevada and then this beach week at Nerja. Fond memories and a good long afternoon walk in beautiful sunshine had been enjoyed by Tanya and I. We strolled far further than I meant to along the seafront promenade, through the busy streets with all the touristy type shops. Tanya attracted her usual clientele of doggy loving couples, in particular the female half, which lengthened the walk even more as we lingered and chatted. This was quite pleasant though as the majority were English visitors, holiday makers or residents. Definitely a favourite Brit area.

So Nerja was now behind us and I was at a bit of a loss as to our future heading. I want to do a detour up into the hills around Malaga. Todays persistent rain here on the coast was putting me off heading inland and upwards. The rain and the mist would only be worse there. So we had decided to follow the coast a little more today and head inland tomorrow with the forecasted return of sunshine.

I was also in a melancholy mood after Nerja and so this deserted car park stop at the edge of the ocean was to be a meditation and reflection stop. I had intended a meditation right where we were parked at Nerja. However; on returning to Sadie after our morning walk we were confronted with a pair of big tanker drain clearance type lorries parked right beside us and doing there stuff noisily and smellily up at the complex of apartments. A message from Kate maybe .... 'Thats enough maudlin, get on with it, move on and enjoy! So we did but the need for some quiet reflection persisted hence our stop.

The rain was not going away. Tanya, tired out after her morning walk was sound asleep. The sound and sight of waves crashing in gave a background rhythm to the deepening state of meditative calm. Heart and breathing slowed and a cooling of the head set in as brain shut down areas such as agitation, impatience or concern. The shoulds, the oughts and the buts became mere background echoes as they left the room. At last we were truly stopped. Body, soul, mind, Sadie and Tanya. All that was left was the in and out of the breath, continually there and frequently returned to as slippery hooks of scattered and mischievous in-attention were noticed, discarded, and also shown the exit.

Refreshed and re juvenated Tanya and I stepped outside as the rain stopped for a while. I noticed this particular spot, ideal for a night spot, had some disturbing and fresh graffiti daubed on various walls much of it in English. 'Capitalism equals terrorism'. 'Capitalist pigs must die.'

"Hmmmm." I thought as I looked around. There were several large, housing development type, high rise blocks a little further back from the narrow coastal strip of plush, but mainly closed and shuttered, blocks of holiday apartments.

"Methinks there could possibly be one or two decidedly colourful characters around here. Methinks one with ones capitalist motorhome and capitalist doggy will toddle on a bit further down the coast for now."

The rain set in again as we found a more congenial spot just by the busy fishing port and fish market at 'La Caleta de Velez' just by 'Torre del Mar'. No graffiti here and we watched as all the fishing boats returned. The market was a modern, busy all electric and computer screens auction with burly fishermen unloading boats of their crates of fish and shells of every description which were then electronically bid for and loaded into various white vans. Presumably they moved quickly along to the Paella stage in some restaurant or other up and down the Costa del Sol.

I was thinking of buying fresh fish for the evening meal. This was a wholesale market though and apart from not really understanding what the hell was going on I saw no retail outlet to actually purchase a fish. The amount of fish though amazed me. My ignorant landlubber type thinking went something like; "This is just a small Mediterranean fishing port and look at all these fish and other ocean living stuff. This is going on all over 24/7. Poor bloody fish and no wonder the oceans are starting to get a bit low on stocks!"

However; I really did fancy a bit of fresh fish. The ham eggs salad and chips did it OK but I would have preferred a slippery freshly caught and ocean depleting bit of lovely white fish.

Funny creatures us humans eh!

Patrick x 2 @ Antonios.

'My goodness.' I thought as I watched 77 yr old Patrick tuck into his half of my expanded evening meal of stir fry chopped Chorizo sausage and 'other'. He was sitting opposite me in Sadie relating at length his fascinating life story. We also finished off the last of the delicious Almond cake, care of Consum supermercadi, with a second cup of tea pleasantly assisting it on its way.

This was all going on at Antonios. Now I had heard of Antonios from the Somerset couple up near Aguillas. It seems Antonio has what we would call an 'arrangement' with the Guardia Civil here in Mojacar. They clear motorhomers off the seafront, by orders of the Mayoress I am told,  and direct them to Antonios here at the South end of Mojacar. Now Antonio is very acommodating and you can stay here for up to 4 days free of charge as long as you patronise his restaurant either for a meal or for coffee.

The 'arrangement' is a good one as here I am right on the foreshore. It is 1800hrs and I have enjoyed a wonderful day which started with a swim in the sea (yes in February! Short but very pleasant.) A good walk, another brief skinny dip on a deserted beach and a scrumptious Paella washed down with Sangria at Antonios with next door motorhome neighbours Phil and Linda from Torbay in Devon.

Oh! And I nearly forgot. I also met Patrick number 2 this morning. Just after my first swim. I was drying off in the sun outside Sadie when Patrick number 1, whom I had enjoyed inviting in for a meal the previous evening, ambled over with Patrick number 2. Similar to number 1; number 2 was also a divorced single male. He was younger at 70 and he lived, and had done so for the last 5 years, in a small Citreon van type family car! Well; I had to see this and was duly fascinated as Patrick showed me all the little hidey holes and ingenious ways he had adapted bungee cords, blankets, and sheets of hardboard to fashion his living space. Not for me admittedly, but it reminded me of how fortunate I am in having all the home comforts of Sadie to live in.
-  -  -  -
We've moved on again. Just west of Almeria tonight. I've decided to head on westwards and stick to the coast and the warmer weather for a bit. I'm parked right on the beach and just down from a sign saying 'Acampacar Prohibio' I'm sort of expecting to be moved on but both the local Policia and the Gardia Civil have driven by without stopping so looks like I should be OK for one night. There are a couple of hippie type vans a bit further up and when I asked one of them if it was OK he indicated .... 'No Problemio.'
-  -  -

Sunday 17/2/13
Now deep in the amazing 'Plastic fields' along this coastal strip between Almeria & Motril. I am down a wee track that literally was just wide enough for Sadie to squeeze along between the plastic covered landscape. It opened out not far from the beachfront in a wild area just by an overgrown overflow levee and is so peaceful and quiet with just the odd local passing by on foot or a moped. As I raise my eyes and look out there in the distance are the snow covered heights of the Sierra Nevada. They glistened in the early morning sun as Tanya and I walked the beach but now, with the sun higher, they are misty with some of the lower peaks shrouded in cloud.

Internet, or in particular, wi fi access is once again proving a bit hit or miss down here. Out of 4 cafes offering wi fi only one was successful. It seems there is no problem connecting to the cafes router which of course makes you think you have an internet connection. Trouble seems to be the cafes computer is not actually connected to the internet. I managed to explain this to the one good cafe and hey presto we had wi fi. The other 3 did not understand or just shrugged their shoulders and walked away. Each time it costs me a coffee and sometimes a Bocadilla which is more expensive than me paying out the £3.00 daily charge for 3g access via my Vodafone contract.

In general though things are going well, Tanya is happy, and the schedule?  Errrrr .... what schedule!

........

While travelling we stopped at a Mirador with lots of padlocks on the decorative railings. Lots of them were inscribed with protestations of love and the names of the couple. Unusual and touching.

Boat wreck.

"I think I am going to move my van back a bit. That looks highly unstable to me." Said John.

"Me too." Says I as we watch the start of this unconventional unloading of a badly damaged diving school boat.

The whole thing was hanging dangerously far out the back of a big lorry that had drawn up in front of our motorhomes. It did'nt take a lot to figure out what was being proposed. The big Palfinger crane  behind the lorry cab was going to lift this boat up, swing it over, or as it turned out, through the top of, a palm tree and lower it down onto a cradle on the beach front. We were parked not 2 metres the other side. The slightest slip and one rather large and heavy diving school boat could quite easily end up sitting atop 2 or 3 motorhomes, Sadie included.

Several motorhomes discreetly reversed out of harms way but we all helped out by using our headlights to illuminate the area as this dangerous manouvre was by now happening in the dark.

We had arrived at La Azohia earlier as the stiff N Easterly gale was whipping the sea into large waves which were crashing onto the beach and more spectactuarly onto the rocks out at the point. Unfortunately as Tanya and I started to walk toward the cliff path we witnessed a crowd of people desparately trying to lash this diving school boat onto the rocks where the waves had thrown it. Turned out it broke away from its moorings just as the owner reached it to secure it with more rope. There was nothing he could do but watch the wind and waves carry it quickly to the rocks where it ripped off its propellor and steering mechanism and for good measure put a few holes in the hull.

The lorry turned up later and was able, using its crane, to drag the boat up to where it could lift it onto its bed. We were now watching the final instalment. Unloading of the damaged boat.

Thankfully with quite a lot of shouting, shoving and pulling one damaged boat was safely plonked onto it's awaiting cradle, lorry was all packed away and reversed out. Us, the interested and somewhat concerned crowd of motorhomers were finally able to re-position our vans and relax.

Either side of me were English vans and a little later we all spent a very pleasant hour or so in Paul and Ann's van over non alcoholic drinks discussing the days drama and viewing John's i-pad where he had actually video'd the unfortunate shipwreck as it happened. The case was emphatically made that boats, big waves and sharp rocks do not enjoy the best of relationships. Unfortunately I did not get one photo of the whole affair.

I think I'll find somewhere a little quieter tomorrow!

Bye Bye El Berro. Hello seaside - again!

"C'mon Steve. Out of that comfy seat and get the washing up done" says one half of me. 

My other half counters with; "Yes,yes. In a minute. I just need to stay a while and figure out why I am so dog tired tonight that I can hardly move".

As I reflect on the day it soon becomes clear just why I am so tired.

We were up early for Tanya's morning walk on this our final morning at El Berro campsite. There was a stiff north wind blowing and when you are 600m up in the 'Sierra de Espuna', even though the sun is just about to show itself in the clear blue sky, I can assure you it is cold, bitterly cold.

Shower next in the very welcoming heated shower block with piping hot showers. Breakfast is then followed by the various chores required to get Sadie all packed away and ready to roll. The shiny new, non suspension front forks on our bike look rather good as I lift and secure/lock it into position on the carrying rack.

The bike, fully repaired had been returned the day before and we had taken the opportunity to go on one of our 'bike-walk expoditions'. Espuna is a seriously mountainous area and there is no way I could cycle up some of those hills. Walking and pushing the bike is equally enjoyable though and Tanya loves the mix of walking, sniffing and then zooming down hills in her green doggy carrier. We got all the way up to 'La Perdis' recreation area where the day before we had parked Sadie and climbed, nay scrambled some of the way up the 1444m high peak that dominates the area. I knew I would not be able to make the peak for that is a serious day long climb. However; an hour and a quarter of steady steep climbing was enough to give amazing views and a place to enjoy our lunch in the warm mountain sunshine. Plus it also left me with enough stamina to come back down. Always the tricky bit requiring full concentration when so steep and treacherously gravel-slippy underfoot. All went well I am pleased to report and here we were again the next day only this time on bike We were able to cycle on and get a good view of where we had walked the day before. OK so it was a long way off the peak but I was impressed all the same when I saw just how far up this brute of a mountain we had struggled.

OK; back to today. Bike on the rack. Water tank topped up. Electric cable disconnected and stowed. Chair, table, awning and floor sheet all packed away. Cupboards closed, seats turned around and Tanyas travel bed prepared and last of all, with Tanya shut inside (!! No more running over thank you very much!) Sadie is rolled back off the levelling ramps and they are collected and stored.

Phew! That only leaves a walk round to say cheerio to all the good friends I've made during the week and of course the painful bit, pay the bill.

Finally we were off and as always sadness at leaving is soon replaced by excitement as Sadie effortlessly starts to negotiate her way up hair raising hairpin stairways on this the long and scenic route through, up and over and then down and out of 'Sierra de Espuna'. A slow but thrilling drive especially built by the Spaniards for this foolhardy, nay stupid old bearded Inglesia pensioner who, without a risk averse wife to temper his madness, flings his motorhome with gay abandon around sky high and crumbly edged hairpins atop a downward oblivion of nothing but stubby pines and mountain goats. Ahhhhh bliss!!

'Totana' was the first small town we arrived at which conveniently had supermarket and fuel stop. In fact the supermarket had an under cover car park big enough to fit Sadie in which was very convenient. Onwards we went now fully stocked and ready for a few days wild camping down by the coast and hopefully where it is a bit warmer. Around 'Lorca' we speed and eventually end up here at a beautiful spot right by the sea just north of 'Aguillas' and if I look out of Sadies side window I can see the village of 'Calabardina' across the bay.

There are lots of other motorhomes here which is how I found the place. You have a job to hide a motorhome away and these were clearly visible from the nearby coastal road. The Somerset couple parked just in front tell me the coastline south of here is littered with beautiful wild camping spots like this one. We are the only two UK motorhomers here the rest, about 30, being mainly Dutch and German.

So all in all a busy busy bee day. No wonder I am tired. But tired or not I think to myself;

"I got a feeling the blow up canoe may be coming out tomorrow!"

-  -  -

2 days on.

Still here .... stopped, walking, biking, canoeing, & lazing in the sun.

Robbery & 'El Berro' campsite.

Y'know; God likes a good laugh, and, God's good laughs usually involve our misfortune in some way or other. I chuckled as I reached this conclusion amid the pouring rain as Tanya and I trudged our soggy way back to the 'El Berro' campsite here in the beautiful mountains of 'Parque natural Sierra de Espuna'.

Tanya had awoken me at 0830 and, as we often do, I had flung on a few clothes and headed straight out for an early morning Tanya constitutional walk. It was windy and definitely cooler than the previous two days of unbroken and windless hot sun. There were clouds about but also some early morning warming sunshine. As we trudged our way up the well marked GR 252 footpath deep between steep pine covered hillsides my befuddled and not yet fully awakened brain started to register a darkening accompanied by an increase in wind noise through the pine trees. This was not a big walk at all but even so we had walked for about half an hour with Tanya fully into her sniff and mark territory mode. Me? Well I was in another world and musing on whatever it is a half awakened and befuddled early morning mind muses upon.

It was time to turn back. Only then. Only at that furthest and highest point did I notice the first raindrop and how cleverly God in his/her humour had kept my eyes down watching where I walked while he/she sneaked the dark storm clouds over the mountains to a position where for Tanya and I there was no escape. We were rapidly soaked to the skin as we trudged back. By the time we returned to Sadie my totally innappropriate light hoody top and tracksuit bottoms were fully in the heavy rinse cycle. I'm afraid it was on with central heating while we dried out and changed clothes.

Now it is 1100hrs. We have had a lazy breakfast, the sun is once again shining, although it is quite windy, and I have been watching the campsite slowly come to life. Mind you. God did'nt have it all his/her own way. Last night I did, after viewing the weather forecast, gather in all my lovely sun dried washing. I also safely stowed Sadies 4.5m wind trap of an awning too.

So God, sorry but I figured that one out. Admittedly that scenario would have been a better laugh. Half naked and bleary eyed Steve struggling in the middle of a very cold and windy night to get washing in and stow unwieldy awning. However; catching me out with rain early in the morning. Hmmmph! That's a pretty good laugh too and I fell for that one hook line and sinker!

We are at the El Berrow campsite due to a number of circumstances. One is I was running out of clean clothes and needing a laundry stop. Another is this part of the coastal strip is not doing it for me whereas the beauty of the mountains is. That fact has been both my downfall and my uplift.

We were on our way to El Berro, on the cart tracks as usual, when we came across the stunning 'Embalse de Algeciras'. A man made lake high above the fertile Murcia to Lorca valley. There are lots of these created lakes in this fertile but hot and arid area. Algeciras is, on the map, a small one but it still took my breath away as we arrived at a level viewpoint right above it and alongside a fast flowing canal presumably taking water to the many irrigation channels and smaller storage containers which were dotted everywhere you looked.

'Well' thought I, 'let's delay El Berro for a day and stay here in this beautiful spot.' Which indeed we did. In fact we found a brilliant walk up the ridge which just kept getting higher and higher and presenting ever more stunning views of the valleys and hills near and far all the way down to the Med coast. We were in high spirits and pleased at this unexpected bonus.

So you can imagine my surprise, annoyance and disappointment on our return to Sadie when I noticed we had been robbed. One bike wheel was at a strange angle and only hanging on the bike rack courtesy of the still locked and secure chain. The one thing the locking chain had not been wrapped round were the bikes front suspension forks. The bit the front wheel fits into. It seems, or at least I presume, some opportunistic mountain biker happened by and thought; 'Mmmmm! Got my wee tool kit with me, 2 minute job, methinks I'll just help myself to those!' And he/she did. The upside is there was no other damage to either the bike or to Sadie. A huge relief I can tell you. All in all an annoying happening but one where, on hindsight, I see I had parked and left Sadie in a very exposed viewpoint with a steady stream of traffic passing by be they walkers, bikers or car drivers. A lesson and a warning for the future as I head even further South. Do'nt wild park in full view at regularly used public spots.

We arrived at El Berro the following day and once booked in I queried availability of a bike shop and explained best I could the problem. Well! Mr campsite booking in man became quite upset and was on the phone speaking agitatedly and loudly to, as it turned out, the site owner who appeared a few minutes later. Understanding was soon reached with bike being loaded into his car to be taken to Alhama for repair. Seems it is going to cost me .... 'Total absolute senyor .... €30'. Unfortunately it is going to take a few days but I have booked into the campsite for a week so .... 'iss OK, no problemo mi amigo! '. 

Hmmmmm! Have faith and just trust Steve. It will come back and all will be well ..... I hope!!

Saturday today. A 6 mile walk and just the best motorhome cooked sausage casserole ever. Courtesy of the small El Berro shop and a long length of locally made goat sausage. Different but yummy yummy!

2 piccy's. One of bike minus forks. 2nd of Sadie on El Berro site.

Alicante, the coastal strip & internet.

"Oh I'm sorry about this Tanya." I said as we once again started to pass by more depressing Spanish Costa seafront esplanades along with their obligatory sea facing high rise blocks of apartments. I suppose they are not all bad and If you stop, as we did in Ste Pola, and walk around a bit some are quite nice. This however was gone 5 O'clock and past the time for Tanya and I to be looking for a perch for the night.

"It's my fault Tanya, I should not have spent so long trying to find a beach side parking slot."

There had been a wide beachy type area just south of Alicante where other motorhomes were. We stopped there for lunch and 75 year old Vanna, a German fulltimer like myself (including small dog) helped me with his very fancy sat nav locate the garage, which turned out to be only 5 minutes away, where I could once again top up my gas bottles. I was really quite pleased at how Vanna and I got on seeing as he spoke only German and I only English and our communication was about finding a Spanish location! However; I decided to push on once gas bottles were replenished as the beachside site was by a busy road plus a rail line. A whole night struggling with German/English language impasse was not too appealing either despite our earlier sat nav success.

This need to move on from company, or the crowd, was especially so after the two nights and days we had just spent up in the mountains between Xabia and Cocentaina. Such beautiful terraced hillsides with nothing but agriculture, small villages and the Spanish rural population. Most importantly though; this high country contained ample places to park Sadie where we were alone, with virtually no traffic, and certainly no other motorhomes. Tanya was free to roam and we could together walk the innumerable tracks leading inwards and upwards through the terraces yeilding ever more spellbinding views the higher you got. We even found the odd castle and beautifully adorned hilltop church.

Consequently it was now a bit of a come down following this coastal strip and being met with signs phrohibiting 'Acampacar' at every reasonable stopping place. This was coupled with more than frequent sightings of 'Guardia Civil' (A type of cop that carries a 'not nice' reputation!) riding about in cars or on motorcycles. The message it gave me was;  'you will get moved on if you stop and yes, we do know it is January and not high holiday season and we do'nt care!'

The problem was soon solved with a decision to move inland a little way just past a huge complex of 'Salinas' (salt producing lagoons) where a conveniant bit of scrubland presented as an ideal spot for the night. We were just in time for the beautiful sunset to flood Sadies windscreen while to the side and just down the lane we watched a big artic lorry being loaded with medium sized potted Palm trees. I wonder where they are off to?
-  -  -  - 
Internet & wi fi seem to be a bit more hit and miss here than in France. I was in a cafe yesterday and logged on to their wi fi. Or to put it more precisely logged on to their router which was not connected to the internet. I had a go at explaining this to the guy behind the bar whose total command of the English language comprised the words; 'No problemo mi amigo!' Delivered, I have to say, with a beaming smile indicating that indeed, connected or not connected it was .... 'no problem' ..... to him. I gave up in the end and left feeling a little peeved as this was the second so say, internet cafe where this had happened.

The real problem though is as I am getting older I cannot be bothered with the difficulties around these, so say, essential modern day technologies. For example; the TV is now not working. I think it is because I need to change to another satellite which involves entering new numbers somewhere into the satellite dish control box. Out comes the instruction book and after ten minutes of reading a dawning realisation that I was losing the will to live finally persuaded me to stuff all back in the cupboard and put my music back on, which I enjoy more anyway. What better than good music and the Terrific View from Sadies panoramic 3d colour with no adverts front windscreen.

New Friends and a mountain villa.

New Friends and a mountain villa.

"Is that a Shnauzer?" I said as I approached this tall handsome looking man just up from the seafront in Xabia.

"No. It's a Shitzhu." He answered in perfect English.

As I drew close and Buster turned to see and smell Tanya I could see that indeed he was a Shitzu. A bit smaller and with different colouring but very similar to Mitzi the Shitzhu belonging to Doreen. my brothers partner,

Lenny and I stopped where we were on the pavement and chatted, as you do, for some time. It turned out he was in town with his partner Win and had clocked Sadie as they were driving past where she was parked. They had recently bought an older Hymer Motorhome themselves and Lenny was eager for hints and tips from an experienced fulltimer like myself.

Hmmmm! Not sure about that accolade but it made me feel good. We parted company after a while and that should have been that.

However; a short time later I was in Sadie experimenting with my wi fi aerial in a supermarket car park just opposite a Mac Donalds. I have to say without success. I am not sure whether it is something I am doing wrong but the aerial is a piece of junk as my laptop without the aerial plugged in was getting a better signal. Ho hum!

Anyway; there was a knock knock on Sadies door. Made me jump I can tell you! I opened the door fully expecting to see some sort of uniformed law enforcer ready to shout at me in Spanish about a local parking infringement or similar. No such thing. There was Lenny again offering me his card and phone number. Well that soon extended to further chat and to me being introduced to his attractive and charming partner Win with a follow up invite to visit them at their Villa the following afternoon.

Win loves cooking so a fair exchange was soon agreed of more chat and mutual viewing of motorhomes and Villas with in return an invitation to join them for an evening meal. Oh! And yes there was plenty of roadside space to park up Sadie for the night.

So the next afternoon found me wending my way back Northwards for about 20km to Olivia and thence directly up 'Suicide hill', aptly named by Win and, incidentally, a way I did not leave by. This aptly named zig zag of a hill was challenging even to Sadies admirable capacity to defy gravity as we slowly but surely found our way to Lenny and Win's stunning mountainside villa with magnificent views over the coastal plain and out to the Mediteranean.

Sadie was duly parked and levelled on the roadway just outside and just in front of their car. The villas own parking space was given over to their recently purchased in the UK older Hymer motorhome. It seems they had a great time collecting it from Hastings and driving it all the way home to Spain over the Pyrenees. No mean feat as they did not know it or motorhoming well. Carrfour supermarket car parks did them proud as overnight stopping places and Lenny coped well with the total loss of second gear in the Pyrenees and the subsequent removal and re-fitting of a re-conditioned gearbox once home. A very different kettle of fish compared to Sadie but ideal as a weekend away vehicle for them and it was obvious they both thought the world of their good looking and much improved since purchase, vintage Hymer.

Lenny and Win are a lovely ex pat couple and I feel very privileged to have met and spent time with them. We all shared a very pleasant Friday night and Saturday, with a Chilli dinner to die for, at their beautiful villa complete with turret and pool, high up in this stunning Spanish hillside 'Urbanization' (a development of 200 or more dwellings)

Tanya and Buster got on really well together too. I think Tanya was quite sad to see them all drive off to their Sunday Baptist Chapel service this morning. I guess I was a little sad too but it was time to move on. The mountains and warm sunshine were beckoning.

I needed to get my confidence back too. Lenny had been dubious about the mountainous back road route I was proposing to take over the next few days. His doubtful looks and dire warnings about the difficulty of some of the roads had eroded my confidence.

Until that is he said; "My motorhome does not have power steering and some of those bends are quite difficult."

That cheered me up some. Sadie is big but with her short wheelbase, rear wheel drive, tight turning circle and very good power steering she is a delight to drive on the majority of minor mountain roads normally deemed only suitable for the likes of Fiat Pandas. And even those have power steering these days!

That is why tonight we are indeed parked below the 'Embarrage de Beniarres' after a confidence building drive up the windy CV700 from Pego. Mind you the last bit was hairy.

We arrived at the dam and my intention was to find a track that led to the waters edge and park there for the night. Just before the dam was a little sign that I thought directed to a park and picnic spot. Well in a way it was; but it was down a ruddy long and quite uncomfortably narrow strip of tarmac. So much so that I am a wee bit nervous about how the hell will we get out tomorrow morning.

We had to come down this far, which is a very nice spot amid the mountains and a stream and some caves, before we could turn round. Ho hum and Ahhh well!  And well we are here now so we may as well settle for the night here. Tanya can roam freely which she loves.

We got down here by Sadie having to run one set of her wheels in the drainage channel at the side of the track. Guess if we did it coming down then we can do it going back up.

Hmmmm;  that is as long as Sadie does'nt start skidding on the gravel in the drainage channel as we try to get round those steep, uphill, hairpins that were not all that easy to steer round on the easier downhill run.

Oh I do like a challenge!! But I do have power steering and also lots of grunt under the bonnet.

NB - we did get out!

Platja la Barraca + Xabia.

This tiny little typical Mediterranian beach down a very steep and twisty lane between 'Rich peoples sumptious villas' is, at present, being battered by wind and rain. Sadie is rocking in the wind but not alarmingly so, and every now and then the rain batters on the skylight above. We, that is Tanya and I, are snug, warm and well fed. My Zen player is on random play and things ain't at all bad really.

Earlier I was feeling a little down and sorry for myself which I now accept as par for the course of this, my travelling life, when certain conditions come together.  Conditions which usually comprise of leaving one place which has been enjoyable and driving quite a distance to another, which on unfamiliar roads and in bright sunshine can become tiring very quickly. Put that together with the difficulty of finding a wild camping spot down here in the Costa Blanca area between Xabia (pronounced 'havia') and Benidorm. It is highly populated, and popular with the Brits, built upon, but attractive all the same, area. Plus this particular spot is steep and Sadie, despite being perched right on top of the levelling ramps is still sloping to one side.

These are day to day difficulties but the last few days have been really enjoyable which made the emotional burden of moving on heavier than normal.

We visited Burriana and Jurates family. Jurate is one of the team of dedicated carers tending to Richards considerable day to day needs. She was in the UK with Richard so I was royally welcomed into their Burriana apartment home and treated so kindly and generously by husband and first class chef Sergio, who cooked two delicious meals for us all. All of us included daughter Emily and son Alejandro who, poor wee soul, went down with a bug while I was there. It seems it was affecting half his school class. He did look sorry for himself but I expect he will bounce back in a couple of days.

It did not stop us all enjoying several firsts though. First time they had seen Sadie and met Tanya (and rode out to Port Burriana too.)

First time for me picking and eating straight off the tree lovely sweet juicy Mandarin oranges. Sergio knew just which trees had the juiciest and sweetest ones. Yummy! I now have enough Mandarins in Sadie to keep me in vitamin C for the next few weeks!

First time that Tanya, along with loads of other pets of every sort, partook of the festival of St Anthon. Not sure she quite got it but she did definitely get a good splash of holy water from a very jovial and fully robed priest before we all followed the procession to the bonfire and traditional Spanish dancing in the square.

Another first tonight too which is my second night here in Xabia. I'm listening to Bay Radio which is broadcast in English. Same as all commercial radio mind. 90% dross but nice to have all the same. Tonight we are street parked in town after doing two quite long walks in the bright sunshine but very windy conditions to promontories both East and West of this lovely bay with Xabia nestled snugly in the middle.

According to the English Spoken weather forecast the high winds are here to stay for the rest of the week. After my Scottish gales experiences the high winds tonight are giving me little concern. However; they are making the news down here. There is an amber warning out and the DJ has just announced his friend's outside settee has been blown into the swimming pool. Wow! Now I know I am in Spain. Never mind the difficult Spanish Euro crisis. News here is when the wind blows garden furniture into swimming pools.

You just gotta laugh have you not ....... and I did.

Fear, animals & LPG.

Fear. 

It rules my life, and most others also, according to my previous experience's with clients in the therapy room,  Fear not of ultimate annihilation but fear manifesting as anxiety and worry around unwanted or unwelcome change in daily life. Pi from the book 'Life of Pi' explains it well as he reminds us as humans we are merely territorial animals who have compressed our territory, our comfort zone if you like, into four walls. We call it home, work or, in my case, a motorhome. I, like any animal whose territory becomes threatened or is subject to unwelcome or unfamiliar change, becomes anxious and stressed. So it is with my motorhoming life on several levels.

Anxiety is heightened by basic things such as a new country, unfamiliar language, different shops etc etc. I choose to do this though, which is where we differ from the animal kingdom. 'Animals in the wild lead lives of compulsion and necessity in an environment where the supply of fear is high.' (Life of Pi) This leaves little chance for anything other than instinctive choice around survival. We humans have evolved a modified form of choice knowing we have a thing backing us up called intelligence which for the most part allows us to successfully survive a much higher percentage of choices made.

However; When I see gas is getting low in my re-fillable butane cylinders and realisation dawns that the one thing I forgot back in the UK was the correct filling adaptor for Spanish LPG pumps. Well that is when anxiety rises to panic proportions and I am fiercely reminded of just how close to the animal within I really am.

As realisation dawns fear arrives complete with clammy sweat breaking out on my forehead. Only after that original Amygdala driven fear response has passed does intelligence kick in and allow a reasonable solution to be planned.

Mrs sat nav, being a major player in this reasonable solution, guided me to within a stones throw of one of the few garages in Spain, and the only one in Valencia, to supply LPG. Now forecourt service is quite common here in Spain and it was a wonderful site indeed to see the uniformed attendant walking across to Sadie with his box of various adaptors.

Phew! Problem solved! Anxiety level reversed and replaced with secure jubilation.

Are not animals just so fortunate in that they do not require Low Pressure Gas adaptors!!

-  -  -

I used the TV tonight and note, on this the 17th of January there is heavy snow due across the UK tomorrow.

The pink blossom photo is today, the very same Jan 17, in the hills above 'Gatova' where Tanya and I enjoyed a pleasant walk in a cool wind but warm sunshine once sheltered from the breeze.

A stunning drive and a further steep uphill walk to 'Gurugu', in this the 'Parque natural de la Sierra de Espadan'  were then enjoyed as we meandered slowly along the very narrow continual hairpin bend CV200 road between 'Segorbe' and 'Ain'.

A truly stunning mountain pass drive but not one for the faint hearted or anyone in a hurry. I expect most would also say not for motorhomes either. Suffice it to say I have not seen another motorhome anywhere in these hills and I do get some amused and quizzical looks from the swarthy and well wrapped up locals. The main AP7 route South is about 6 miles away toward the coast. All the motorhomes will be speeding down there. They just don't know what they're missing!