Grandchildren trips.

'Jedburgh' Caravan and camping club site in the beautiful but at present wet, Scottish Borders. Sadie is full of son in law Chris, two young uns, Aiden and Rebecca plus of course yours truly with Tanya.

The large pull down bed over the cab area is in use which means driver and passenger seats have to be folded down making a cosy little nest for Tanya in the dark and 'cannot be got at' drivers footwell. She disapeared in there last night as soon as the bed was lowered and did not emerge until after eight this morning. She is not used to our limited floor space being invaded by another six randomly moving sock clad feet. Mind you, she was quite happy to run the gauntlet and dodge all sock clad feet this morning once she got a whiff of sausages being cooked for breakfast.

The sun soon re appeared and the delights of Jedburgh's magnificent and skeletal Augustine monastry, its Castle and Gaol and the local swimming pool were all enjoyed.

A few days later it was 'Auchingarrich' wildlife park near 'Comrie'.  Only this time my travelling companions were Mia and Jenna. We had such a good time there and Tanya, on a lead, was able to accompany us everywhere. Mum Kirsten was happy too as I delivered the two girls safely back in plenty of time to dress up and show off their new school clothes ready for the next days school term start. Mia in particular with her brand new local high school uniform looked really cool. Is it me getting old or do children grow up far faster than they used to?

So. Here we are once again a Tanya and I twosome. We are on the edge of Loch Lomond walking in the beautiful Cashel Forest amid skudding showers and forever changing light scapes. Lunch was enjoyed sprawled out on the purple heather right by the small Rowan tree marking the spot where Kate's ashes were interred. I am so glad we chose this stunning viewpoint. Seeing that the sturdy memorial seat is being well used is heartening too. It is still in very good condition with a well trodden path leading to it.

The only dampener to an otherwise worthwhile day was the local C & C C campsite cost me double this year. £18.00! So much for their 'careful review' of fees.  Is it any wonder I free or wild camp whenever I can.
Rant over!

A day of 'Happenings'

Warm clear clean water flowing by and over me as I swam quietly away from  'Finney' bridge on 'Lough Mask' right on the boundary between County Mayo and Galway. I felt a difference in water temperature as I swam away from the bridge and encountered the mix of waters between the smaller lough and the much larger Lough Mask. The colder water refreshed even more and I revelled in this early morning bathe amid the stunning scenery, low grey misty cloud, silence and overall calm. The tourists  had not started to arrive yet with their, camera out and; 

"Willya jurrst look at this you guys," brief picture gathering and cigarette butt leaving stops.

Fishermen were not to be seen at this early hour either. They were absent late last night too as I stood with mug of tea in hand watching numerous largish fish taking the late evening fly. Earlier, in the same spot, I had watched fishing lines whooshing out from long sleek rods only to be reeled back in empty toward frustrated faces. The Heron I espied and watched at binocular distance was having no problem though. Mr, or Mrs Heron, as I watched, downed a three course meal of Cordon Bleau fresh lake fish oblivious of being beautifully encapsulated within focused convex lenses.

Oh! but how it can all change. Peace, calm, slowness & no hurry. The way every day should start and remain throughout. We were doing so well too. Meandering slowly along in an Easterly direction with the Larne to Cairnryan (Stranrear) ferry slotted into the plan sometime in the next few days.

Meandering slowly is not a choice here in Ireland. If you drive a 'Sadie' it is a basic fact rendered as necessary due to the condition, bendy'ness, and at this time of year, exaggerated narrowness due to heavy vegetation, of the Irish roads. Mind you I do sympathize with Irish road builders. An awful lot of this beautiful green island is bog. Soft wet spongy bog. Very much akin to that yellow soggy sponge sluggishly floating in your bath. Try building a road on that.

So: slow n easy it was with hot sun shining from a rain free blue blue sky. Pleasing to the eye rural Irish heartland slipped effortlessly by Sadie's panoramic windscreen. 

Then,
in an instant,
life's chaotic choice factor takes over.

Hurtling into view round a sharpish bend appears a gi-normous green tractor towing a wider, heavily loaded, equally gi-normous, trailer. He was on his side of the narrow road but not tightly so and as I dived to my non existent left to squeeze through the impossible gap I observed two things. The monster was not slowing down and the young looking driver only had one hand with which to control the beast. His other hand was holding a feckin mobile phone to his ear!

There was a sickening, loud, obviously painful to Sadie, screeching of tough hedgerow seeking to rip off all fibreglass skirting down her left side. Miraculously we made it through the gap and into a layby a few hundred yards on. Monster tractor and trailer continued on and out of sight.

Examination revealed damage. No doubt about that. Closer examination established Sadie was still in one piece but with her recently cleaned and polished left lower skirting scratched and holed in places but importantly, still attached and serviceable.

I briefly considered following the monster for insurance etc. Only briefly though. This is Ireland. The route to less hassle was shrug, be thankful it was not worse and once again remind myself: Big van, narrow roads, my choice and therefore to be expected every now and then.

That was number one 'Happening'. Number two was in 'Athlone'. A pleasant town on the 'Shannon' waterway. The sun continued to grace us with its presence as we lunched outside while watching the comings and goings of boats through the big Irish waterways lock. We continued walking through a park and back through the town. Least I thought it was back through the town. Somehow I had become dis-orientated and gotten us completely lost. I, in general, have a reasonably good sense of direction but for some reason 'Athlone' decided to render me totally lost for a full three quarters of an hour.  Maybe it is a game for which 'Athlone' is known. I say that as I asked directions of one local who sent me:

"Straight now, straight to the traffic lights, you'll see then, you'll see straight enough then".

Well I didn't see 'straight enough then'. When I got to the traffic lights I was even more confused and lost so I asked someone else. This elderly lady proceeded to send me right back the way I had come but:

"be sure to bear left now, just past the top of the hill now".

I eventually, with tired dog trotting alongside reached Sadie. I gave my head a good shaking to wake up just in case it had all been a dream. "That's two "Happenings", I muttered. "What on earth is going to be number three?"

Yup. Sure enough there was 'Happening' number three.

I'd headed for a small road that Mrs Sat nav said went down to the waters edge of 'Lake Ennell' just by 'Mullingar'. Well it did. Even better was that it led to a local authority adventure centre cum Pitch n Putt golf course. An ideal spot for the night with freshwater swimming on the menu. Just one problem. Prominent 'No Camping' notices.

"This is too good to miss out on Tanya. C'mon lets go ask the staff."

I had espied another notice saying: 'Dogs must be on a lead at all times' so Tanya  was firmly attached to my belt as we walked across to where lots of children were milling around, the majority of whom were very wet.

I'd just approached a young lady staff member when behind me all hell broke loose. I whipped round to find Tanya on her back fighting off a Collie who was giving her a right pasting. A savage swipe from my right hand removed the Collie and Tanya was quickly scooped up in my arms.
The young lady stepped between Collie and me and shouted whereupon Collie slunk away. Turned out Mrs grumpy Collie had three pups close by, was not on a lead and was owned by the young lady, who turned out to be joint centre manager with her husband.

Number three 'Happening' had two positive outcomes. Firstly Tanya. She was shaken but thankfully not seriously hurt in any way. The second positive? Well after that little incident young lady was most apologetic and saw no problem at all with us staying overnight.

Boy oh Boy! Was that not a lovely cooling swim to finally bring to an end our day of 'Happenings'.

Parallel lives

"Looks like we are here for another hour at least" 

said Stephen as he watched me happily paddling around barefoot in the knee deep high tidal water covering his motorhome exit route. I was parked by him but OK as I was staying overnight among the beautiful water meadows and sand dunes at 'Caher Beach' Just along from 'Castlegregory'.

Stephen, Joy, their motorhome plus their three dogs were already there as I moved Sadie from my sons house. The holiday rental season was underway. Keith and Justine's first paying guests were arriving and I guess would not be too chuffed upon arrival to find a hulking great motorhome parked out front. I had enjoyed my week at their home in close proximity to one year old Kaden with his inevitable toddler tumbles and intelligently engaging 'da da da da' language skills.

This new camping spot just above the high tide mark was convenient being equa—distance between their house and 'Beach Box', Keith and Justine's popular holiday shop and launderette in 'Castlegregory'.

Stephen, it turned out had an uncannily similar life journey to my own. From a seagoing start to a final career, like myself, in mental health with Dyslexia and 'seeking' also emerging as further parallels. We decided there was only one thing to do. We both headed off up the tidal river into the wetlands to a deep pool I had spotted earlier. Joy and her camera and the three dogs caught up with us later as we were walking down the low tide sandy riverbank after our cool refreshing swim. Tanya just loved being with their dogs and got so carried away she, without any assistance from me, swam across the shallow river at one point. Mind you: I had to wade across and fetch her back. One swim OK. Two? 

"Hah! Who do you think I am? Some kinda a woofin seal or something!"

No swimming tonight but I have just been paddling. I had to reach Sadie on my way back from spending a pleasant evening with Keith and Justine and a very tired little Kaden. Its high tide with the exit/entry under salty sea water once more. Sandals off, Tanya tucked under my arm, umbrella up as the rain was (still is)fairly hammering down and wade through about fifty yards of knee deep but temperate tidal flow.

Tomorrow, at low tide, we move on. A slow trip taking in some more of Irelands West coast before hitting the ferry across to Scotland.

1st Birthday party

I'd forgotten how all consuming and vocally demanding a one year olds temper tantrum can be. Kaden was removed by Mum Justine. Five minutes later a smiling toddler returned to the kitchen chattering away in baby talk, tantrum forgotten. 

"He gave a great big fart and was fine afterwards". Said Justine as she returned to the table to finish her meal.

Yesterday I'd made it across to 'Castlegregory' here in Co Kerry, Ireland for Kaden, my latest grandsons, first birthday party. Lots of food, lots of Mums and Dads and of course lots of toddlers. Tanya, used to having to be on the move to avoid Kaden, was confined to Sadie for the party. One toddler is manageable but a pack of them? Way too much for an ageing canine lady. The pack soon had me exhausted too. Altogether though, a lovely party where  Kaden remained on his wobbly little legs and feet throughout with only the occasional tear or two during the inevitable tumbles.

Bereavement & Crutches

I stood there dumbstruck staring at the object in my hand. I just could not believe what I was seeing. My mind was itching to become angry and aggressive. Earlier times would have seen me move very quickly straight into such anger and aggression which in those days would have signposted me straight down the road to depression, failure complex's and loss of self confidence. Now though I continued to stare at my hand eventually voicing my feelings with the words. 

"I cannot believe I have just done that".

The day, up to this point, had gone well. It was my last day of caring for My disabled brother Richard. His full time carer, Hannah was on her way from the Czech Republic and would arrive later in the day. The house was spic and span and a delicious Green Thai curry prepared for the evening. 

Richard and I, yesterday, had enjoyed a wonderful day out. We did an eight mile trek around Salisbury with me accompanying his rough terrain electric buggy on my bike. Tanya rode in her green bucket on the back of my bike. Actually she ran most of the way and only accessed her green bucket 'taxi' on busy road sections. We thoroughly enjoyed the experience and were today quite happy to stay 'home based'.

The weather was hot so what more inviting than a cool swim. I headed over the playing field to my chosen riverbank spot and immersed myself in the fast flowing clean chalk water of the river Nadder. Beautiful, and gorgeously cooling. 

 I then slowly walked back to the house where I had a chat with Richard before going upstairs to change out of my swimming shorts. Only at that point did I discover deep in my swimming shorts pocket, my beloved mobile phone! This was the object lying in my hand. A soggy and very dead object. This was the happening my brain was having difficulty coming to terms with. 

I must have remained there a full minute, maybe more, deathly still, shocked, jaw moving but no words emerging. Dumbfounded and just desperately not wanting the truth of what I was staring at to be reality. Of course it was very much reality and my voiced words finally broke the spell. The awful reality of this completely dead and very wet modern smartphone became fact. 

 Action was needed and soon followed. It was not long before my bank balance got shocked into shuddering finances through the credit card into the hands of a delighted Carphone Warehouse salesperson. 

Since then it has just been the normal modern day hassle of recovering 'stuff' from the ether, or, as they call it these days; 'the cloud'. Intermittent shaking of the head and ' I cannot believe I have just done that' still remain but are getting less severe now. Until that is, I get unmercifully ribbed by Hannah, Richards carer, with comments such as: 

"Oh! Going mobile swimming again are.we!!" ..... Aarrrrgh!

However; I have to inform you dear reader, that such comments are coming from a young lady who recently walked the 93 mile Scottish West Highland Way using crutches as she had a badly damaged tendon in her leg. Yes reader, that is right, I did say crutches. Actual perch on the arm anodised aluminium standard NHS crutches. 

 I ask you sincerely now. Would you consider such a woman sane? Indeed: how dare such a courageously crazy lady unmercifully taunt a doddery, vulnerable and elderly citizen as he bravely copes with sudden, unexpected and tragic bereavement. 

Mobile swimming Huh!, I'll have you know I was totally besotted with my beautiful red HTC one smartphone. 

 Then I drownded it! 

 Sorry, I'll have to end here..... sob..... The emotion is getting to me. ..... sob, sob. "Where the hell ..... sob ..... did I put that whisky bottle."

Thoughts & something from the past.

I'm in Salisbury at present spending time with family, staying with my Brother and giving Sadie some well earned rest and TLC. Part of the TLC was repairing Sadies rear bumper. All the way around three European countries and guess who backs into an obstruction just near Redhill, Surrey! Luckily the damage was easily repairable with trusty but smelly fibreglass resin.

While at Montsec, France, a few weeks ago. I was near the American war memorial and parked amidst beautiful wild meadows. This lovely setting surrounded as I was by Mother Nature reminded me of 'sumthin wot I rote' back in 1997. I remember the day clearly  as one of those days that subtly re-inforces as yet unseen change. A jigsaw piece, one of many, slotting into place and slowly revealing a clearer image. Indeed it was 1998 when those changes matured. The picture took shape and I chose to end my agricultural career.

Here it is.

MEADOW.
(originally written June 1997)

I used to sell agricultural machinery and one day assisted setting off a large shiny and very technical new mowing machine. I was left standing amid the exposed underbelly of cut grass, watching as machine and tractor whined away down the field successfully cutting a wide swathe through a strong healthy mix of meadow grass and self sown green stalks of corn.
 
A slight movement and tiny screeching made me aware of a family of field mice at my feet scuttling in all directions, except for the one doing the screeching who was fatally injured. Their home was gone, their vulnerability exposed, their world irrevocably changed.

The mower wound down after the first circuit of the field. Farmer and manufacturers rep became deeply involved conversing technicalities. I, while trying to stay interested, observed and became totally fascinated by the thousands of tiny beings, grasshoppers, aphids, greenfly, butterflies, caterpillars, bugs  of every description moving en-masse on the flat shiny green metal surface of this brand new mower. They were a huge fearful and panicked 'bug' crowd trying to escape but only managing to run this way and that and getting nowhere. Just like the field mice.

A whole population of creatures. A complete swathe of Mother Nature forced from their active conscious life, into a different state of being. A totally alien state of being. From my vantage point, it seemed all they could do was revert to this instinctive and compulsive behaviour of running this and that way in the vain hope of what was before, if remembered, would return.

Such an abundance of nature's life in such a small place and time and just altered with not a thought to the consequences. And done by one fairly ordinary machine built by humans to help improve humans lot.

And, I am told, for now this improving seems to work and is beneficial.  Bigger, better, always better. More efficient too. Such machinery and technology are, so say, controlling and changing nature for my benefit. 

Oh! And yes, in the past nature has been harmed. No one is denying that fact. But not to worry.  We are environmentally aware now. Technology coupled with ever increasing knowledge and sophistication will overcome and give us the very best of  Mother Nature.
 
Which is? 

A Mother Nature that humankind will cherish, understand and carry on being environmentally correct with. A Mother Nature that humankind will be proficient and efficient with. We will safely alter and manipulate her so as to provide for our needs.

A laudable aim which humanity actively pursues and is relatively successful at in some areas, and for short periods of time. A sort of, ‘Look, if I throw enough intelligent resources and controls at this I can do it.

However, Mother Earth's nature is not a benign system taking in all and meekly subjecting herself to our will and needs.

Over time immemorial, and in guises as obscure as gaseous explosions of unimaginable force in the outer extremities of eternity, to, simple breezes rustling leaves on a balmy summers evening Mother Nature continually mutates. Mother Nature is highly interactive. Mother Nature is a flexible, powerful system and consummate mistress of change. She proves and shows to us on a daily basis how fast and adept she is at coping, combatting and defeating anything our brains, never mind our feeble machines and as yet prehistoric computers, can devise or challenge her with.

No. This shiny new machine will not assist in famine. It will not stop Global warming or the destruction of Ozone. It can do nothing for the changing weather patterns, the increasing floods or the rising sea levels. Or even the saving of field mice.

There are throughout time, many who have been, and still are, aware of  how superior Mother Natures brain is to our own. Our civilization has now labelled that brain  Chaos or, Chaos theory.

Chaos, is not hampered by having to think, or to do. Chaos just ‘is'. Neither does it have morals or values. There is no problem with, or avoidance of, death. No time limit either, only infinity. Chaos has no ego, greed, vanity, jealousy, pride or hate. Only beauty, vastness beyond comprehension, and the  power of continual evolvement and renewal.

Now I, a human, am simply part of that chaos, a part of  Mother Nature, no more and no less. So are the insects, bugs and field mice. I am not superior too, nor do I have anything that would remotely pass as an equal intelligence to that of  Mother Nature. I grow, like nature, am flexible like nature, and I survive alongside other individual parts of nature as a whole.
 
Extinction in nature is commonplace and I am not immune. Indeed the planet is not immune to changing its Natural State to one that would not support life as I know it. To Mother Nature that is simply of no consequence, just progression, a change of state, a normal and perfectly sane chaotic Happening.

I once listened to a radio program about a man who spent most of the latter part of his life planting acorn seeds by the thousands in an area that was remote and uninhabited due to humanity's despoiling and deforestation.  Many years passed with the old man long gone. But his simple action became a forest, with rivers, wildlife, and communities.

He had figured it out. He just became a part of Mother Nature. He did no more or no less than Mother Nature herself.  He gently fed back to Mother Nature that which earlier humanity had removed.  Mother Nature sprouted fresh life and offered back to humanity another small chance to learn a little more.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Verdun plus old books.

Purples and yellows plus all imaginable shades of green and brown. An old fashioned meadow complete with it's myriad insect and in particular, butterfly life. Tall big leafed green plants with pools of water from early morning mist nestled in their cup like leaf and stem intersections. Frogs and toads leaping and splashing out of harms way as soon as I, or Tanya, appear in their acute sphere of vision as we walked down by the drainage ditch. White clouds moving firmly across the sky allowing frequent sun warming of body and land

"Heaven". I think to myself.

Then, as I raise my eyes to the 'Butte de Montsec' on the hill above the little village of 'Montsec' here on the edge of 'Lac de Madine' I am reminded and I reflect.

98 years and 2 months ago in this very same place where I am experiencing Heaven, man was acting out, with his latest technology, and in vicious and brutal reality, 'Dantes Inferno'. The American war memorial, 'Butte de Montsec', is on a strategic hill that between March 12 & 16 in the year 1916 saw not only thousands of humans sacrificed but also enormous land, village, plant and forest sacrifice too.

We are completely alone here below the village of Montsec on a small forest track on the edge of this beautiful meadow. I've granted myself time today to stop, slow down, reflect and meditate on this very paradox of beauty and horror. Of how I can only enjoy such peace, beauty, silence and completeness if I remember and honour always the full and rushing rivers of ancestral sacrifice carrying me here and onward on my journey. To put it simply, If I stop remembering, If I stop appreciating and immersing myself in this beauty they have bequeathed, in this moment, to me, then what in 'Dantes Inferno hell' did they sacrifice themselves for.
.........

Another beautiful days ending. This one amid the obscenely weed free wheat, rape and barley fields above 'St Mihiel' On the river Meuse. There is a wee astronomy observatory next to us owned by the local association of astronomy enthusiasts. One of them, M'sieur Ronald arrived just as we had parked.  

"Est no problem." 

He said, in answer to my 'out of courtesy' query re parking up for the night.

M'sieur Ronald then proudly escorted me on a grand tour of the observatory with its  home made domed and opening fiberglass rotating roof. The large and old, but with excellent lenses, telescope then gazes out at the stars. Some wonderful photographs were on display and despite the language difference I think we did really well. You need a fairly good grasp of any language to discuss solutions to winter humidity affecting star gazing telescopes. We managed quite well though and I have a feeling purchase of a larger solar panel will be on the agenda of the next association meeting.

We started the day further north in the 'Verdun' battlefield just North East of Verdun itself. What can you say. More 'Dantes Inferno' everywhere you look or tread. Sections of trench left as they were. Areas, lots of them, left pockmarked with shell craters but now with grass and flowers growing in them. The whole area, apart from the tourist sites/memorials/forts etc is now attractive forest. I actually stayed deep in the forest last night and latish this morning was very gently, and with commendable understanding, moved on by the local police/forest ranger and reminded camping is not allowed as the whole area is regarded as a memorial site.

We spent the morning taking all this in. This afternoon we rang the bell of change and drove back South to 'St Mihiel', itself having a horrendous 1st WW story.  We  came instead to see part of its rich earlier history. There was a large and wealthy Benedictine monastery here. The buildings were put to other uses after the Monks left. However the library of ancient handwritten and early printed books remains to this day in a magnificent library. It was damaged and looted during the French revolution but now is a priceless archive of historical books. A complete and welcome contrast to the 'Dantes Inferno' I had chosen to immerse myself into for the last few days.

As I gaze out now at the ever darkening orange, red, pink and purple sunsetting sky I notice there is not a sound. Apart from a gentle and occasional snore from Tanya. I've one more day, tomorrow, Sunday in this area then 9am Monday, in Verdun, Tanya gets her Vet clearance for the UK and we head to Calais and a 6pm ferry to Dover on Tuesday evening.

This has been some trip.

Another Virgin! Then Cows!

This particular virgin is a cracker though. She is made of captured and then melted down cannons from the French victory at 'Sebastapol' during the Crimea war. She towers above the very motorhome friendly city of 'Le Puy en Velay' atop her lump of left over volcanic rock. €3.50 bought me a ticket and like many others I was soon up her. (Sorry. Rather unsavoury but I could not resist a bit of humour.) And I mean right up her. Literally a spiral staircase and finally a steel ladder to a perspex dome where eyes view the spectacle below between the twelve celestial stars adorning 'la Vierge's' head.

I have to admit to enjoying and being impressed on several layers. Firstly the setting, high up atop this tower of volcanic rock, is so perfect. Second the actual statue really is a breathtakingly beautiful metal sculpture. Third; the engineering, which of course is fully exposed from the inside, reminded me so much of my old Navy days with the nuts and bolts and thick steel of post WW2 HM navy Aircraft carriers. The statue for a time enjoyed status as the tallest metal statue in the world, until that is, America unveiled Madame statue of Liberty. No matter, La Vierge, mother and child had a major refurbishment and paint job last year making her spotless and shiny new both inside and out.

'Le Puy' as the city is known, is, as I said very motorhome friendly with all five major car parks around the city having spaces for motorhomes. We chose the one by the station. La Vierge towered above with her back to us making for easy orientation as you walk around the old part of the city on the hillside below. In particular the Cathederal was splendid with its entry via a steep sweep of steps delivering you up, from those dark places below, to where your eyes immediately scan heaven-ward to magnificent alters, sculptures and stained glass. All this with Tanya snuggled in my arms too. No one seemed in the least bit bothered.

We had journeyed to 'Le Puy' over the high Ardeche courtesy of twisty steep minor roads. Well worth it apart from my one glaring error. We were dropping almost vertically and I was tired. Round one more impossibly tight zig zag and there it was. Straight in front of us. 'St Julian de Gua' with a small church clinging to the hillside but more importantly, a level and safe square to park Sadie right out front. Believe me it is hard sometimes in these mountainous areas to find a level'ish and safe spot to stop. I swung Sadie in just as an oldish guy wielding a bunch of keys emerged from the small, but, as I found out later, very beautiful mountainside church. In my excellent French I checked with him re camping por un nuit. He lived in the house right next to where Sadie was parked and was the curator of the church. I got a lovely smile and; 

"No problem. Ave un bon nuit."  

"Thats nice" I thought. 

It was about six forty so we settled in with first job feeding Tanya. At seven o clock the church bell, directly above us, chimed seven times. It was loud!
"Oh dear" says I. "Never mind I don't expect they ring it all through the night. Surely not".

Yes they did. Or at least the electronic bell ringer did. On time too with each half hour honored with a single chime. I heard every single reverberating ding dong chime that night but also, amazingly did sort of doze-sleep in between. Early morning arrived as M'sieur curator passed on his way to unlock the church and wished us a cheery, did I detect malicious, yes I'm sure I did, 

"Bonjour monsieur!"

"Oi! Clear off y'b*****s" 

That's me by the way shouting at a bunch of young cattle whose probing tongues and huge wet noses are getting a bit too inquisitive around Sadie. They've gone now. Frightened the b-jesus out of them I did, by suddenly emerging from Sadie waving and then opening out my umbrella. They're still stampeding, all four of them, but now over the far side of this fishing lake where I'm parked for the night. Doubt they will come back as its getting dark and they've now joined the rest of the herd and telling them their tale of woe.

"Yeeah ... go on .. go on .... you tell em .... tell em all don't go near that white thing over there. It tastes like shite and there's this bloody great big fiery bull monster comes flyin out of it all noisy and green and flappin. No kiddin, nearly had us it did. We're stayin over here with you lot now. I tell you that was Cowin well heffalumpily frightenin!!"

Must have worked. They did not come back and a very peaceful, bell free, night was enjoyed.

Andorra & France & more France.

"OK!" Says I. "We've no sat nav and we have a new country infront of us. Eeeezy peeezy eh!"  

Looking at the map it did seem pretty straight forward too with one main road running round and various zig zag smaller roads leading off to the numerous mountain resorts. Andorra is a small region born out of France and Spain granting autonomy to seven high and isolated mountain valleys and their villages. Skiing, walking, 4 x 4 excursions, and tax free shopping plus recently, 'tax haven' shady banking are its lifeblood. What I had not bargained for was threefold. The amount of traffic. The frenetic impatience of the traffic trying to get past the friggin motorhome. And finally, the 'bendy all the way' main road, apart from the high passes. Then of course the realization that Andorra is just one great big busy shopping centre.

I had no chance to look at the map which I need to do frequently. I am not good at retaining place names and the number of lefts and rights needed. No! My mind is definitely not Mrs Sat Nav. The result was;

"Ah sod it Tanya I'm hanging a left here and let's just hope for a spot to perch Sadie for the night".

Up up up we go. Then we go up a bit more and all via steep zig zags with a noisy rushing glacier fed torrent tirelessly digging an ever deeper and steeper mountain gorge seemingly, at times, underneath Sadie. We finally, puffing and panting, reach 'Civis' and thankfully just above this mountain hamlet, where the road starts to make even Sadie grunt, is a gray flattish shale floored area big enough for Sadie to park on. Phew!

The downside? As Tanya and I stretch our legs wondering how people manage in the incredibly steep mountainside houses we see from an information board we are inside the 'Parc Natural' where camping is forbidden.  

"Good job we live in a motorhome then ain't it! SEE!   Cos I ain't no camper I'm a Motorhome dweller. SEE!"

This tirade, directed at the innocuous information board seemed to work well.  Relieved, having cleared up this noticeboard error we headed back up the hill to Sadie feeling happy and secure. I felt even more secure when I saw the local police pass by in their 4x4 and not bother us.

The morning dawned and 7℃ registered on the clock/thermometer inside Sadie. Oh yes we were in the mountains alright. I opened the front windscreen blinds and let the strong morning sun shine through and warm us up.

"C'mon Tanya. Never mind washing or breakfast lets just go and walk up the road a bit in the sunshine".

 Yeah, yeah, yeah!! Midday it was when we got back! We were high in the Pyrennes. The sun was up, warming us and green mountain meadows full of flowers were beneath our feet. The snow line beckoned invitingly. What was not to like?

The path wound on up toward a snow covered ridge blazing white in the now high in the sky sun. I reluctantly decided however; at the first patch of snow, to head back. I was alone. I had no rucksack full of 'mountain stuff', my feet were in light trainers, my head was banging away with altitude affect and Tanya had to be carried over bits of the sharp shale path as one of her paws had become quite sore. And; I was desperate for a cup of tea!  What a beautiful walk though. What views and what a welcome cup of tea upon our return.

Time to move. Over the high 'Pas de la Casa' and the 'Col de Puymorens'  with  stunning views of the snow capped Pyrenean peaks. Pointless taking photographs. You just cannot capture such awe inspiring snow capped scenery with merely a glass lens on camera or mobile phone. No. The artist Godfellow painted such scenes for the intracys and emotions of the human eye, mind and heart.

Back into France after a brief stop at customs.

"Cigarettes monsieur?"
"No"
"Not even for friends?"
"No"
"Wine Monsieur. You ave wine for yourself and your friends?"
"No"
"What ave you spend your money in Andorra?"
"Gasoil, a pizza which is in the freezer if you want to look and some other groceries."
"I never ave theees before. You ad better go queek while I still believe you".
"Oh! And pleeeez, spend a leeetle more money in France eh!"

The postscript to this little 'Andorra' story is the Pizza was just about the worst Pizza I have ever bought. I'm afraid more than half of it got binned. I'd have done better spending the money on wine and fags!!

On the other hand the self made curry I have just eaten here at 'La Sousa' campsite was, even though I say it myself, bloody delicious. We're here at 'Pont du Gard' North East of Nimes. The campsite decision was a no brainer. €18.00 they wanted to park Sadie for a couple of hours while we visited this impressive piece of Roman stone engineering. €12.10 they wanted for us to park up overnight here on the campsite with all facilities. The campsite is ten minutes walk from the Pont so Tanya and I enjoyed a good walk/explore of the area. The Pont is the last, very impressive and visually beautiful, part of a Roman built aquaduct that delivered water to the city of Nimes 17 miles away. Our walk was especially enjoyed as for the last couple of days the weather has not been good. As we walked though Monsieur Sun came out to play. I made the most of it by having a dip in the lovely cool clear water of the river Gard about five hundred meters upstream but in view of the Pont. Gorgeous!

We travelled up to the Pont today from the little rural village of 'Nizas'. Carol and Graham now live there most of the time as opposed to Salisbury which is where I met Carol while out walking Tanya. Their Labrador, Baily, is young and boisterous, just a bit too much for Tanya to cope with in the spacious confines of their very French home. I enjoyed a lovely evening with them and Tanya soon got over being shut in a separate room.

There was an added bonus too. With access to good Wi Fi I was finally able to sort Mrs Sat Nav out. We are now once again, 'an item' and looking forward to travelling intimate backroads toward distant setting suns forever and ever ...... Amen!!  (Hmmmmm! Or at least till the next Co Pilot sat nav update knocks her off her perch again!)

Bought & sold

"You've sold the house!" I exclaimed.

"I thought you were going to sell and upgrade to a better Motorhome". 

I said as I shook my head trying to take in the exciting news Lenny and Win were both trying to tell me at the same time.

Like three quarters of properties in Spain Lenny and Wins lovely villa atop the mountain overlooking 'Oliva' was for sale and had been for the past five years. I hear one or two stories each week in both Spain and Portugal of people with changed life circumstances stuck with property worth a lot less than they paid for it and is unsellable. In fact the more of these sad and poignant tales I hear the more I appreciate the simplicity, financial viability and flexibility of my motorhome way of life.

What I was hearing from L & W though was very different. Out of the blue a buyer had appeared and bought their Villa for the asking price. I have to say their Villa does stand out as Lenny, being a good gardener cum all round handyman, has over time, transformed the place to a very high 'buyability' standard.

The really exciting part though was that they had sourced another villa complete with smallholding. This was a dream for both of them and one they never thought would come true. Neither have any desire to leave Spain or the church and community links they already have. So finding this new place, not too far away, is a fantastic new beginning for them both.

The other good news is there will be plenty room to park Sadie and ..... wait for this ..... the seller has agreed to chuck in his little tractor plus implements as part of the deal. A tractor ...... !!  Oh yes! I'll be back there to visit next year just you wait and see!

I left L & W busy packing and all the other stressful stuff that goes with house moves. For Sadie, Tanya and I it was time to turn North. Time to hit the busy N340 and put a few miles behind us before the day was out. Just past 'Vinaros' was where enough was enough for one day. Hang a right and within five minutes we are perched atop the crumbling cliff face overlooking the blue and breeze whipped Mediterrainian.

Next morning I am sitting outside in the sun finishing my morning cuppa when along comes another dog followed by it's owner, a tall Dutch lady. We are soon chatting, as you do, and it is soon agreed I will pop across to her Villa to meet her husband and have coffee after my planned swim / snorkell in the invitingly calm early morning sun touched sea. A good swim it was too with Tanya, as usual, keeping her distance on the pebbly beach but faithfully staying put always a few meters from where I enter the water.

Our visit to the Danish couples very smart clifftop villa turned out to be another of the story's I talked of earlier. She was tall, fit, loved her walking, birdwatching (and baby bird rescuing!) and keeping the villa in tip top condition. She loved the place and the area. He, sadly, does not now enjoy the best of health which severely limits what he, a hands on physical work type of guy, can do. He feels increasingly frustrated and isolated. So they have the villa up for sale and plan to move back permanently to Denmark rather than the present arrangement of six months Spain, six months Denmark.

Cue problems. Value well down with very few highly selective buyers available. Their property is also in the front line of the clifftop erosion zone being about forty meters back. I learned that if a property becomes less than twenty meters from the crumbling cliff edge that's it. You can stay living in it but the property reverts to state ownership and jurisdiction with very little compensation. It all adds to the difficulty and firmly places stress and worry in that place originally labelled 'dream'.

On we go, with Sadie's wheels on less crowded roads now. We settle into a quiet and secluded spot for the night on a disused road, well you could continue to drive but you would son find yourself driving into the deep waters of the 'Panta de Rialb'. One of the two large man made lakes/reservoirs on the road from 'Lleida' to 'Andorra'. With water for the taking, and  swimming (quietly in the early morning cos your not supposed to according to the half submerged sign.) I took the opportunity to give Sadie a quick wash over. My goodness some of those flies do stick. At least I have a clear windscreen now.

But I don't have Mrs Sat nav on my posh Smartphone anymore. Her bosses sent a lovely big update with all sorts of new features like intelligent memorizing of your daily commute and a new street map for Puerto Rico. (Derrrrr!) You'd have thought she'd be really pleased with all that would you not?  

Ha! 

Well, being female she without notice and with immediate effect took offence at being told to do things differently. She shut down completely instead. Nothing! Nada! No matter what I do she aint having none of it! I presume divorce papers will be e mailed shortly. Ahh well; it was good while we were together and she knows she is always welcome back once she discovers it was'nae me ordering her about. Meanwhile, for me, it's back to good old paper maps and, as has already happened, getting frequently lost.

Hot & Cool.

"Phew! Thats better Tanya, 24℃. We will maybe sleep a bit better tonight". 

I started to shut down some of Sadie's open windows. Last night in 'Cordoba', Spain, it stayed stubbornly around the 29.5./ 30℃ all night. Even driving here today the air conditioning, which only functions when the engine is running, was having a job getting Sadies interior below 30℃. I try to keep in reasonably tolerable temperatures rather than invest in an environmentally unfriendly stand alone air conditioner. However; having decided to go directly East across Spain through Seville, Cordoba and the sizzling high plains I knew it had the potential to be hot hot hot. And it was hot, hot ,hot.,

We did despite the heat do a bike ride/walk to 'La Mezquita'  in 'Cordoba'. We were not able to go inside (Doggy issue as usual.) but through its exterior grandeur plus that of the surrounding old town you gained a real sense of this city's former status. Outside of its famed centre however; it is a city, a very nice city, but a city much like any other so we only stayed the one very hot night.

A day on now and here, high in the 'Sierras del Mundo' in the depths of a large Cirque we are at the head of the 'Rio Mundo'. It is definitely cooler. We walked to where the 'Rio Mundo' begins as it gushes out from way up the cliffside and falls in wind driven spray to the rocks below. There it transforms into a conventional waterfall at the bottom of which ripples a deep and deliciously inviting pool. Irresistible! It was a very cold but invigorating skinny dip and only just in time too. As I pulled my clothes back on a couple of late visitors to this popular tourist attraction strode around the corner. Phew!

We stayed overnight but left fairly promptly in the morning just before the tourist buses began to roll in.  On, on, on across the fiercely hot interior with its mile upon mile of Olive trees, towns and villages all showing signs of hardship and decay while sadly, retail parks on the edge of these towns stretched out along the ruler straight roads like wild west clapperboard towns full of their lookalike furniture, kitchen and bed stores.

The road wound down from the high plains and as we entered 'Ontinyent'. Guess what I spotted right below us in the deep gorge? People swimming and diving into the deep clear pure water of the gorge pools. Turns out the actual gorge is virtually dry these days but this particular set of very accessible and safe pools are kept flowing by clever diversion tactics being used on various local springs. Sadie was soon tucked into a blisteringly hot, and only one available, parking spot. Steve was soon fully immersed in the crystal clear, deep blue cool water. Correctly attired I may add. There were lots of people there but in no way was it crowded. Tanya was also dipped to keep her cool.

We are not too far away now. It is 10.pm and I am waiting for Sadie to cool a little before placing my head on pillow. In heat such as we are enjoying just now Sadie tends to act like a storage heater. She soaks up the heat of the day and then of course releases it as the outside nigh time temperatures drop. Take my clothes storage cupboards above the bed for example. Plunging my hand into the neatly packed socks and jumpers is like plunging a hand into a tumble drier full of clothes a couple of minutes after it has finished its heat and dry cycle. 

I know, I know ..... you all feel so sorry for me don't you .... !!

Reality & naked reflections!

"Hang on to reality and just fully take in this moment. It's a pretty rare moment." 

I thought to myself as I listened to the Prajna-Paramita Sutra (Buddhist Heart Sutra) being sung to me by Suzy who was sitting alongside me. The sun, high in the sky warmed the smooth, pure. outgoing tide washed sand beneath us. steep cliffs behind sheltered us from the brisk and eternal South West Algarve cool breeze. In front of us sparkled the blue, cold and relatively calm Atlantic ocean. We were both slowly warming up after our naked swimming immersion in this clean, bracing and wave rocked liquid gold. For me, being half Seal, I cannot keep out of the water, cold or warm. For Suzy though this daily 'cold water therapy' was healing and supporting her recovery from years of illness as was her very presence in this beautiful area. She lived in 'Paradise', the name of her house and plot of land both of which were wild and inside out. Inside her house was like being outside with beautiful wall murals and colourful mosaics while the rampant wild vegetation of the outside held you mischievously inside it's shaded haven of sensuous enclosing warmth.

I listened meditatively as the Sutra was gently and tunefully intoned to me. For a time, where we were on the spectrum of millennia seemed optional. Sea, sand, sky, two bare humans and only two sets of footprints visible on the smooth, beige expanse of beach.

Just a few days ago I had sadly dropped Barbara off at Faro airport and promptly disappeared into this wilder part of the Algarve for a few days adjustment to once again being on my own, something I love and for the time being have no intention of changing. This was reflection time for the beautiful fun and loving time we had enjoyed together.

As I felt the warmth returning to my body and listened to the naked intonations of this ancient Sutra I sat cross-legged and meditatively upright on smooth buttock imprinted sand. I could do no more than trust myself completely to the process and to the Universe, so benignly all about and cradling me. This was too big for a mere conscious and socially polluted human brain to make sense of. My full trust was given over unerringly to my unconscious and the unbelievably subtle and vast connection it enjoys with 'all that is'. Years of study and meditative practice were now bearing fruit. Right way / right path would appear, would show itself. I need not concern myself about that.

We rested as the warm rays of morning sun gained strength and the body's core finally decided it was safe enough to allow warm blood to flow to sea cold skin. Cold water therapy works on the principle of body being forced into optimal performance via the shock change from temperate air to cold water Done regularly, body and mind systems gain robustness and wellbeing. Works for me every time. I love the suffusion of good overall feelings that instantly arrive once the second or two of fear and shock of full immersion pass. As Suzy explained this therapy, a first for me, the beach was populating. A young naked family to our left with the toddler offering handfuls of sand to Tanya, who much to everyone's amusement, were carefully sniffed at before being rejected. To our right a very large elderly and brown as berries Portuguese couple giving another naked aspect to consider and reflect upon.

We slowly walked from the growing population on the beach and parted company at Sadie. It was time for me to move on. Sadie was eager, prepared and ready to roll slowly up the very rough track and transport us to our next adventure.

And the comparison. Well here I am now in the lap of luxury. I'm poolside in hot hot sunshine at Ian and Aju's very plush holiday apartment in the golf resort of Vilamoura. The complex is virtually empty and so far I have enjoyed multiple cooling swims having the huge clear blue cool pool all to myself. Once again. Heaven.

My exposure to the beautiful Heart Sutra has been noted however. 'Ashima's' hauntingly beautiful version, courtesy of Google Play store, is now quietly playing in the background on my smart-phone as I write this.

Thank you 'all that is' for two very different but equally reflective and beneficial experiences.

 

Borderia Beach

What a cracking beach it is too. Rocky cliffs being continually battered by the Atlantic swell are to my back offering enticing walks. To my front in the distance is a huge wide sandy beach with foaming white and blue rolling waves sweeping it billiard table smooth. A large sand spit rooted in acres of sand dunes is stopped by the rising cliffs and separated from them by a freshwater outflow. This has formed a large and shallow lake between the big car park where I and several others are and the sandspit.

A bracing fight with cold, furious and foaming Atlantic rollers followed by a gentle dip in the warm freshwater lake rinses off the salt and places me firmly in Heaven!  Even Tanya without too much fuss swam halfway across the lake. Mind you I had to wade waist deep alongside  and encourage her to keep going but she did it and seemed really pleased with herself as she dashed through the shallows and raced like a mad thing up and down the large sandspit.

Early in the morning is simply gorgeous. Before the land heats up and the cool onshore breeze starts to assert itself. I have to admit this mornings early doors skinny dip was definitely preferable to conventional washing!

This is a part of west coast Algarve I have not explored before. While Barbara was here we did a little of it just above Sagres. We found a lovely surf beach full of topless young things and surfers of various ability skimming down the short sharp steep waves. The motorhome had to be parked some way away though so we headed inland across the rural tracks and enjoyed a night in empty but beautiful countryside.

This place though .... well in some way it is a bit poignant as I know just how Barbara would have loved it. Next time Barbara. Next time.

Flood

"Bow wave?" I thought. CLUNK .... JERK ..... DEAD STOP. "Shit!" I loudly exclaimed as the enormity of our sudden and unexpected dilemma dramatically hit home.

The weather, it being Easter n all that, had turned very wet. We were on our way down to the coast from the hilltop village and tourist stop of 'Monchique'. All in all things were going very well. We had enjoyed bike rides, swimming and snorkelling. A real highlight had been wild camping alongside a rural track in the middle of nowhere surrounded by the wild colours, sounds and scents of a flowering Portuguese spring. Such delights had been ours this last couple of sun blessed weeks. But now, Easter Sunday, the rain was tumultuous so we were happily and slowly wending our way to lower and drier levels.

There was a flood under a bridge which at first glance did not look too bad and certainly no worse than Sadie and I had forded through before. 

"Slowly does it" I thought as Sadie crept along. 

We were halfway through when I noticed we were making a bow wave in front of us. Now, the noticing of a bow wave being pushed up in front of a vehicle designed to travel on dry land is good and sort of OK. Unfortunately; 'the noticing' is a sluggish psychological process which is usually some way behind the action taking place in front of your eyes. This of course is not good, not good at all! Sadies big five cylinder diesel engine relies totally on receiving large quantities of dry clean air. Her air intake was now below the bow wave and had efficiently sucked into her engine a healthy slug of water. This had immediately stopped her dead. Simultaneously my brain, which contains years of knowledge and useless information about engines, registered with alarm the catastrophic consequences of said slug of water entering such a precision reliant mechanism as Sadie's large hot five cylinder turbocharged diesel engine

I turned to Barbara and said gloomily. "That's the engine well and truly f****d then!"

I kicked off my footwear and stepped outside to assess the situation. The water was knee deep and lapping at Sadie's entry step. I noticed a youngish tall guy beckoning me over while at the same time speaking into his mobile phone. As I paddled out of the water toward him he said in good English. 

"You got rope? My friend coming back, he pull you out." 

Sure enough edging toward the water a few minutes later was his friends Jeep complete with wife and young child sitting bemused inside. The ropes were soon attached and Sadie emerged from the flood onto the dry road.

That, however, was not the end. Listen to the rest of this story and then tell me who is one very very lucky old codger!

Turns out these two guys were lorry mechanics and really knew their stuff. In seconds Sadies bonnett was up, air hoses were being disconnected and a soggy wet air filter was pronounced as 'No good, need buy new.'  I was then instructed to sit in the drivers seat and occasionally give the engine a flick with the starter motor. They meanwhile rocked Sadie back and forth with her in 5th gear. 

"You must put in 5th gear!" They shouted in unison" 

Sadie's engine was finally cleared of water and able to turn over easily and start. And miracle of miracles she did start. She burst back into life and I just about burst into tears. I could not believe our good fortune. Easter Sunday, a foreign country, a flooded bridge out in the countryside and two Guardian Angel lorry mechanics there on site to assist the crazy tourist who drives a motorhome like he thinks he's got a Sunseeker luxury powerboat!!

I was instructed to drive slowly to our destination, about ten kilometers, and then go to the Mercedes Benz main dealer the next day to finish the job properly. I thrust a generous Euro note into each of their protesting hands before limping slowly away in Sadie with her compromised non turbo charged engine. The air hoses, and turbocharger had been left unconnected to drain out and dry.

I was shattered both mentally and physically when we reached 'Alvor', our stop for the night. To be then cared for and have dinner cooked for me by Barbara was very very special. Especially after she had been suddenly and dramatically told her shared holiday home was, in effect, f****d by her host, a thunderously doom and gloom bearded ancient idiot motorhome driver. An experience that was deeply traumatising for her as well. Thank you Barbara.

We were at the Mercedes Benz dealer early next day. They were excellent and remarkably good value too. Yup! The miracles just kept coming!  I mean .... Mercedes main dealer? Good value? Hah! in the UK you'd need to take out a mortgage if you so much as coughed in one of those places! But here in Portugal we left 2 hours later with a fully functional, fully checked, electronically diagnosed, and all thumbs up raring to go Sadie.

Another day and another story but more to the point. Another example of ..... There is summmat, out there, lookin after me. All I can do is say ..... Thank you soooooo much.

Barbara and I had a bet as to what the garage bill would be. We were happily both way out with our guesses. Even so Barbara was the loser being off the mark even more than me. She was quite happy to stick to the agreement and duly paid for the celebratory meal.

Sadly Barbara is now safely back, courtesy of Ryanair, to her country cottage near 'St Andrews' in Scotland. I can truly say we had a wonderful three weeks and both Tanya and I are tonight missing her a lot. Sadie seems somehow empty.

Special K (with chocolate curls!) & tripping up.

I could not help but laugh with Barbara again as her face convulsed and tears rolled down her cheeks as she recalled the 'tripping' incident of the previous night.

We were at 'Sagres' parked behind Phil and Linda's Burstner Motorhome. I'd first met Phil and Linda last year in Spain. A few days ago in 'Alvor' they had recognized Tanya and called us over. We met them again at our wild spot near 'Lagos' where they assisted in fending off the continuous begging from the local 'travelling people'.

Phil and Linda were enjoying their 'meal in' as we set off to sample an evening meal out at the local 'Sagres' surfers beach restaurant. We knocked on their door on our return, the agreed signal for them to join us shortly for an evening drink.

Now a motorhome is simply a house condensed into a very small space. Upon entering Sadie our immediate task was to 'move' things, which loosely translates as 'chuck stuff on the bed'. This of course to make room for our guests. I lifted the basket of 'stuff' which lives on the bench seat, swung round to take two paces toward the bed. Next thing I am sprawled head-first upon bed with head half in basket. Blue, denim jean clad legs, according to the convulsed with laughter Barbara, were waving around horizontally and alarmingly.

"What the ..... who the hell put my toolbox there .... First rule of motorhoming is NEVER EVER BLOCK THE FLOOR SPACE!!'' 

This was my furious repost as I regained my feet and stupified, stared vacantly at my toolbox neatly placed on the floor in front of the bed. With pointed wagging finger this now very angry bearded apparition rounded on the culprit only to be faced with a Barbara doubled up with laughter, cheeks glistening with tears and not far off an incident involving the lower regions.

Phil and Linda then announced their arrival at our open doorway which meant the whole story had to be re-canted by the virtually incoherent with mirth Barbara. Phil joined me in the highly male ritual of 'Hmmmph!' Which is the delicate and nigh on impossible transition of male red rage anger into desperate and futile face saving justification when faced with overwhelming, and frighteningly mysterious, female humour. Linda meanwhile 'getting it wholeheartedly' was by now laughing too as the sorry tale of the fuming angry horizontal leg waving bearded motorhomer unfolded.

Overall it was a good start to what turned out to be a lovely evening and a farewell to our friends as they started to head North the next day.

We meanwhile headed for the local 'Supermercado' to stock up the dwindling food supply. All went well until I made the mistake of allowing Barbara freedom to roam. She found the breakfast cereal aisle. I knew immediately we were in trouble as her unmistakable whoop of delight echoed around the supermarket. I arrived as the shelf was being cleared of the unavailable in the UK 'Kellogs Special K with chocolate curls.'

Special K with Chocolate curl (SKCC) addiction is a growing problem across Europe and Barbara, a vulnerable victim, and totally unaware of the lethal and lifelong consequences had tucked into her first milk soaked bowl of SKCC a year ago in Paris. This unexpected fresh exposure brought on a total relapse undoing all the good work SKCC anonymous had achieved over the past year.

Strong action was needed. A threat to report her to the GNR (Portuguese gun toting police) was thankfully enough to allow me to replace all but two boxes. These days, due to the explosive expansion of SKCC use across society, two boxes per shopping trolley is tolerated by the GNR. However; the strange and far away look in her eyes plus the way she clutched tightly to the supermarket trolley reminded me of the injuries I sustained the last time I tried to touch those two allowable boxes.

She is now doing OK after phoning her SKCC anonymous buddy. It's a bit like handling an eggshell first thing in the morning but once she has consumed her morning fix she becomes the Barbara I know from an un-addicted past life. The daily scrumptious Greek yoghurt recommended by her buddy seems to be helping too with her relapsing only once so far into more than one bowl a day.

But overall, and pushing aside for once, the joint crazy humour we both enjoy, Barbara, Tanya and I have been enjoying a wonderful sun blessed time here in the Algarve. She will be missed.

Welcom to Portugal Barbara.

"Shhhh! No don't lower the blind, just lie still n they'll go soon." Says I to a not suprisingly, nervous and worried Barbara.

The pick up at the airport had gone smoothly apart from Barbara's bag being on the wrong plane and going to arrive 12 hrs later courtesy of super efficient (not) British Airways. Sorting that out had taken some time so we arrived at the local Faro Beach car park, our overnight spot, later than expected. No problem. Barbara was delighted and we were both pleased to see each other and share some lovely fruity sweet curry and rice.

Timing is all important in life. Youngsters with boom box rev me up cars arriving to do wheelies on this, an empty sand covered and therefore skid heaven car park, just as we were settling down for the night was timing to perfection. Poor Barbara wondered what on earth she had let herself into. She, bravely and with considerable doubt trusted me as I quietly listened and figured out it was not a crowd but just two cars with a couple of youngsters out for a bit of fun. Thankfully my prognosis of the situation soon proved correct as two rev me up cars disappeared into the dark night leaving us with only some 'end of storm' breakers hurling themselves against the sea wall in front of us. A re-assuring and continuous sound which quickly lured us into a deep sleep till the morning light and Tanya's flapping ears awakened us.

Portugal still and in particular at my favourite wild spot here opposite the small village of 'Ferragudo', just over the river from the high rise holiday complex skyline of 'Portimao'. The river estuary is a busy waterway with lovely sandy beaches one of which is right outside Sadies door. The mooring buoys scattered around the estuary have beautiful big fresh mussels clumped together and tightly clinging to their underwater anchor ropes. Last year I swam out and collected some and fair exhausted myself what with the tugging at these underwater mollusces and swimming against the tide. What a difference this year. Blow up Kayak became my fishing boat and it was not long before Barbara and I were feasting on a lunch of very fresh mussels enhanced, I have to say, by Barbaras delicious tomato onion and garlic sauce. Yummy yum yum!

"My bike. I can't believe it!" 

The look of pleasured amazement on Barbara's face as she gingerly handled this brand new and rather smart ladies bike was, for me, re-payment with generous interest on this 'damm good value for money' bicycle. We were soon embarked upon our first joint cycling trip over the river to 'Portimao' and the beach beyond. A nice easy flat ride. Apart that is from the exposed walk/cycleway which was a bolted on extra to the long steel road bridge spanning the river. This was of course no problem for roughy toughy Steve and his Tanya filled green bucket bike. For Barbara though, embarked as she was on her first bicycle excursion for many years, this very long, narrow and rattley steel floored passageway came under the OMG terrifying label. The open sides showing the swirling waters beneath did nothing to ease her terror. She did great though. With gritted teeth and eyes fixed firmly ahead she kept pedalling and with a "Phew" type exclamation arrived safely alongside me. 

"Now you've done it once the return journey won't be so bad." I said to her. I did'nt get a verbal reply, just a look, a look which said it all!

All was forgiven and we are now, a few days later by the way, in a pavement cafe in 'Lagos, listening to Sweet Alabama from two excellent street buskers. Heaven.

Waiting + Fridge & special guest

'CHECKMATE' .... issued forth the the voice from my smart phone.

"Whaaat .... How ... Oh damm, I forgot that knight!" Issued forth the whingy whiney voice of myself. Shoulders slumped and jaw dropped as realisation sunk in of the enormity of losing to a computer chess app set at level one, which is one up from beginner. It did'nt help that the sound of heavy rain beating down on Sadies roof was loud and continuous and had been since we had left Tavira.

Doom, gloom and mental breakdown into depression. This was the clever octopus now tentatively reaching out its multi suckered arms in the hope I would remain in the defeated Chess stupor long enough for it to get a firm hold and drag me down deep into it's lair.

HA!! "No way José!" 

I say as I remind myself of the actual where/what and how well we're doing just now. Barbara was due the next day and we had returned to the campsite in Tavira to clean Sadie, get washing done and prepare, as best as one elderly single brain celled male can do, for the arrival of female company. We had done well. Even Tanya had a bath and we had collected a very smart ladies bicycle from the local cycle shop.

But .... Oh yes, there is always a 'but' where these things are concerned. Day 2 of fridge doom had also arrived. You gotta admire fate's timing have you not. I mean the very day before my special guest arrives. Good timing fate, good timing!

I'd done all I could in the way of re-stripping and re-furbishing the intracies of the fridge's complicated operating mechanism twice now. Master Fridge was not having it though and refused to play ball.

"Where's that leaflet for 'Camper Serv' Tanya?" I mutter as I finally locate it. 

"Aha! They are agents for Dometic (fridge make) and they are just up the road from Faro airport. "C'mon Tanya, in y'get we're on our way!"

In the pouring rain, with me holding the umbrella, a very efficient young man at Camper Serv pulls out two wires, cleans and replaces them and without further ado Master Fridge sputters into gas fuelled activity. Hooray! The day, and more importantly, Tanya, Barbara, and my stock of food, are saved. I would have willingly paid a lot more than he asked for especially as he took time to show and explain to me this particular fault of the fridge and how to fix it.

Well that was yesterday. The rain ceased early this morning and here we are watching the planes come and go in a sun blessed viewing area at Faro airport. Plenty of time to take Tanya for a walk and prepare a nice curry for this evening, Barbara may be hungry, before we drive round to the airport pick up area once I see her plane land.

OH! And Master Fridge? He is happily 'green for go' and keeping the grub cool.

Only fly on the horizon is poor Tanya who does not in any way approve of the regular bird scarer bangs coming from the end of the runway. AH well! Can't have everything perfect can we.

The piccys. Well the rain also forced me to 'Smart phone play'. Guess who found an app in Google Play Store called 'Sketch Guru!'

Mr Lloyd & Flamingo's.

"Well that was relatively pain free eh Tanya." I said.

This as we drove away from Faro airport after a trial run through the pick up area. This 'trial run' was admittedly a week before Barbara is due to arrive but better safe than sorry eh! We also located a local campsite and wild camp spot where we can head for as her plane does not land until 1930hrs.

After stopping to pick up a fresh 5kg bag of juicy fresh Oranges from one of the roadside stalls we headed back out into the wilds of the Rio Formosa salt marshes for a couple of nights solitude.

I'd previously, on one of our bike-walks, found a wee rough track over the coastal railway and out into the salt marshes. So here I am and I've Not seen any other vehicles down here except the locals who are always out at low tide collecting shell fish. Quite a few walkers and cyclists pass nearby on the Southern Algarve cycle route and we have used the same path to visit 'Fuseta' the nearest town. It's a relatively un-touristy fishing based town complete with rail station and campsite.

We visited this afternoon and used wi-fi at a local cafe to organise Mr Lloyd and his pal Visa to transfer cash over to my special Euro card. Only Mr Lloyd was not playing. Mr Lloyd instead had the cheek to set his fraud detection department upon me. Not a big thing and I will sort it over the next day or so. What surprised me though was how 'being dragged back to the real world' got me down. For no reason at all I was suddenly angry with myself. I was upset and the whole day seemed to have turned sour. Tanya did not help either and got the sharp side of my tongue. She did her usual act of being fast asleep right by me one second and the next totally gone. Vanished, disappeared, out of sight and only re-appearing just as I started to reach panicking stage about 5 minutes later. Grrrrrr!  Yes I know, doggy lead. I'd left it back in Sadie ...... again....!

All's well that ends well though. After having given myself a good talking to we enjoyed cycling-walking round the town before heading back along the cycle track to Sadie safe and sound in her hiding place deep in the salt marshes. By the time I'd put some good music on, cooked up the rest of last nights home made chicken korma and downed a cup of tea, well, the world and things in general were back in their rightful place and the unwarranted anger at myself had dissipated.
. . .

Tanya, this morning redeemed herself admirably. At 0619hrs. She awoke and gave her morning alarm of head shake accompanied by loud flapping ear noise. Often when she does this I put on a grumbly voice and tell her. 

"Too early, Tanyas bed, back to Tanyas bed." 

She invariably does just that and we both enjoy another hour or so of sleep. Sometimes though when we are wild and it is safe to let her out I drag myself out of bed open the door for her and crawl back into bed sometimes accompanied by freshly brewed cup of tea.

So there I am, stark naked sleepily opening the door to allow Tanya her freedom and suddenly I am jerked into awakefullness and enthralled by the sight in front of me.

To my left an orange sun disc is, just as I am, sleepily and nakedly, peeping over the threshold of the horizon. In front of me on this as yet windless morning are the shallow mirror surfaced oblong shaped salt pans with about 50 Flamingo's feeding. Long pink legs and downward flexible neck moving a feeding head around in the shallow water. All peacefully and perfectly reflectively mirrored. The vista, especially using my binoculars, was stunning. A mobile phone camera, unfortunately, can in no way capture such enthralment. A few minutes later the sun had donned its clothes of strong glare and the initial beauty was past. I too finally donned robe against the cold. I made my cup of tea and retired back to bed to continue viewing through Sadies large side window. My tea drained deliciously, sip by sip, as I continued to watch my own personal flock of beautiful Flamingo's. I must at some point have dozed off for when I awoke it was 0745hrs, the sun was streaming in Sadies front window and starting to remove the early morning chill. The salt flat was empty. My Flamingo's were gone. I stared out at the salt pans now with rippled water from the cool early morning breeze. In that half awake sleepy hinterland I wondered: Was that all a dream? Sadie then gave a slight shake as the familiar clump of Tanya jumping in through the open door reminded me it was no dream. My early morning gift of Flamingo excellence from Tanya had been real and very special.

Thank you Tanya.

Kayaking with reluctant dog.

"Go on Tanya jump. Go on. Good girl. OMG she's actually done it. Well how about that. Hmmmm! Better rescue her I suppose."

Picture the scenario. For starters there is one blue inflatable 2 person Kayak half way up the river estuary between 'Fort du Rato' and the charming town of 'Tavira' here in the area known as the 'Rio Formosa'. Next picture one strange looking bearded guy kneeling in it complete with straw hat, red life-jacket and wielding a paddle. Finally one small black dog swimming around in the river and starting to panic as she realises there is no beach in sight to swim to. Small black dog by the way does not normally 'do' water and especially not swimming. In fact small black dog is extremely wary of bearded gentleman when it comes to seaside beaches as she has had one too many experiences of literally being dropped in it. She has established that distance between her and bearded guy seems to reduces the amount of 'dropping in it'. Clever Tanya.

So on this occasion, even though it was a beautiful warm and sunny day, bearded gentleman was most surprised to see little black dog move from her position up front of the Kayak (Not her favorite mode of transport it has to be said) to a position with front paws on the side, head overboard, and rest of body indicating I'm going in for a swim. The encouragement from me did the trick and into the clear water she jumped. A first for Tanya. I soon had her hauled back in and after a good all over body shake she resumed her position up front and gave me a look as if to say; 

'I done it man. I done it and am a lot cooler but don't go thinkin I like water now cos I don't, right!'

We continued our 3km paddle up the tidal estuary to 'Tavira' helped by the incoming tidal flow. A couple of hours to enjoy lunch and explore more of the town would give time for the tide to turn ready to assist us on our return journey. It was good fun, good exercise and an adventurous way to enjoy such a warm and windless day. I finally lifted the Kayak out in the centre of 'Tavira' just by a restaurant where a scrumptious meal of Sea Bass and simple veg really hit the spot.

I guess for a while we entertained the other diners as we emerged from the river steps onto the Plaza with Kayak, paddle and waterproof bag. All were stowed against the riverside railings, lifejacket was stripped off and clean shirt donned. Bearded gentleman, still with straw hat on plus a still decidedly wet looking black dog then nonchalently strolled over to the outdoor very smart restaurant tables and joined  the other diners. Most satisfying!

Now move on a couple of days. We're still wild-camped in the same place. Weather is still beautiful so bearded gentleman is seen once again preparing Kayak as the tide rises. "We'll go the other way this time Tanya. Down to 'Carabas'. Says bearded man. Tanya however; when it comes time to go keeps her distance and in fact quite pointedly trots over to Don and Gails motorhome to see their dog 'Ruben'. No doubt to say. 

"He wants me in that bloody boat thing again. No way! Can I stay with you for a bit?" 

Don and Gail whom I've got to know over the last few days were there for the afternoon and quite happy to act as dog sitters. So she got her way and there she stayed until I returned a few hours later.

What a dog eh!