All of life eh!

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

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

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

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

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

All of life eh, all of life.

Javea + Benidorm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Floored, Trumped & t'internet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I slowly recovered remaining at Camping Ribamar for four days before moving on further South to 'El Saler' where I am now. I am much, much better although taking it very easy. Sun is out though, shorts are on and beach walks with Tanya are order of the day.
.......

T'internet is a wonderful thing is it not? Yesterday I Arrived at 'Cullera' which is a large open motorhome parking area.  I parked up and boy was it windy. I also noticed how the recent bad weather and storms has altered the place. My spot of two years ago is now a salty lagoon behind a newly formed sand bank. Good job I was not parked there on whatever night it was the storm hit.

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

Have a good trip guys.

New Babies & Mental Health.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right. Spain it is then.

Palais Ideal & poorly dog

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

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

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

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

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

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

Icicles & Basilicas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Christmas/New Year Blog

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cold but Snuggly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ho Hum Eh!

Ireland

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Music & a lazy Sunday

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

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

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

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

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

All in all a most enjoyable day.

Mirrors, Confidence & Grandaughters

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Foxy10 has arrived!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reality & Sadie has to go!

A wee reality check here. This motorhoming life is good and I love it but it also comes with its own set of obstacles and problems equalling, shall we say, more normal ways of living in this topsy turvy world of ours. Take this morning for instance. I'm at a small French Aire on the edge of 'Riberac' which between the storms last night I discovered has a dead campsite, a working abbattoir and from my short damp walk about the place not much else. It's still raining this morning and the ongoing investigation into Sadies LH front rattle has uncovered rather more serious problems which, and I touch wood here, will hopefully hold together until I get back to the UK. Not good and definitely decision time. So I swich my attention to Mrs Sat Nav and request she please calculate a 'speedy' main road, route North. "Route not found" is all her curt and precise feminine vocality will spit out. In a fit of petulance plus a small dose of 'poor me' I reply to her. "Thanks. Thanks for nothing. Like thanks Mrs S N for Not being there when I need you!"

There is one bright light. I've plenty of gas and need to lighten Sadie by jettisoning some water. What better way to do it than via a long hot shower. Then it's North, using good old paper maps again, unless, Mrs Sat Nav decides to wake up and navigate once we actually get moving. One can only hope and invoke Universal power to be kind and Universal mischief to lay off some.
......
Well I am happy to report Universe has been kind to me today. Mrs Sat Nav did come back to life shortly after we started moving. However; she also had a fit of petulance and promptly directed us down the smallest road possible even though she was set for fast main roads.
So a bit more TLC (ie: re-setting her' bits') for the lady resulting in faster and less bumpy (equalling less rattles) main road travel. I much prefer our normal meandering and easy going pace down small roads but they are rougher and put more stress and strain on Sadie.
..........
Even better news now. I have stopped the omminous "I'm gonna seriously crack up on you in a minute' cracks and rattles. The structural problem I have unfortunately uncovered is still there and no less serious. But it is, I think, fixable. I cannot fix it permantly while on the road but with modified philips screwdriver, my well honed skills as a contortionist and a robust dialogue of poetic unrepeatable language I have effected a successful temporary fix.
Phew!!!
.............
So now here we are in the middle of a more relaxed morning at 'Haute Peniston'. Breakfast dishes are unwashed, as is myself, but with major disaster averted, for the moment, I have eased off slightly from panic mode. I am gazing out at the 'Moule' (mussell) farms comprised of rows and rows of stark black upright posts only viewable at low tide. Mr Moule and his numerous mates live and grow on these very posts. The morning is dull, misty in fact, but improving as the day ages. The tractors arriving early and towing their 'Moule farm working boats' woke me whereupon tea was brewed and slowly sipped as I leisurely watched the activity from my comfy bed.

Yes. I will miss you Sadie when you go. Yes. I am afraid so. She has to go. A decision had to be made and that decision is to trade Sadie in for a later model. I tell you I feel like a traitor just writing this down. Unfortunately the time has arrived. Sentiment has to be put firmly aside. I'll have enough of a job coping with difficult sentiment as I take the hit of a vastly reduced valuation due to 'the problem', which is, without doubt going to be picked up by any competant trader. It will mean severe compromise on my ideal 'Sadie number two. I could perhaps effect a quick fix, sell privately and maybe gain a few thousand. Ethically though; that is not me. Whatever I gain is not the immeasurable thousands I gain from having a clear, unfettered conscience.

I did call in to a French Motorhome dealer and had a look around. Veeeeery nice & much cheaper too. Need to research that option a bit more.

OK. Time for action. Not hurried though. My only deadline today is this afternoons Vetinary appointment for Tanya. She has to be checked and 'certificated' before we board the Cherbourg to Poole ferry next Monday evening. Then a few more clicks (kilometres) to 'Maure de Bretagne'. Which is where I am this very moment writing up this blog. Nice little Aire here. A Tanya Aire. In a park with a lake so loads of doggy sniffs. France in general from my observation is definitely looking a little run down. Certainly more so than when I first started my regular visiting five years ago. I admire the French workers in their struggle and I have a lot of time for how their country runs and how the population are more evenly distributed between rural and city. What to do I don't know but I hope they can sort it out without resort to too much violence.

Ferry booked so back in UK late Monday night. Bit of a different and uncertain time ahead of me but I still hope somehow to get round all my Grandchildren before years end.

Keep breathing deep & easy Steve.
Y'know y'self that if you do
Confusion plus all his mates pack their bags and leave.

Catholic, Budhist plus Meccano

'Montferrand'. Nothing special. Just a tiny 'Cotswold' like hamlet somewhere between 'Rocamadour' where I left this morning, and 'Eymet' where I am headed. "Ile est tranqueeeel". We are parked up in a tiny space by the church. There is nobody around and it is a very still breathlessly warm evening. Humid too. There is a tall wall and Sadie is tucked up against it. Above the wall, presumably the bottom of someones garden, is a bamboo grove towering above us. The bamboo is musically knocking against its neighbour as the birds flutter about its depths. Apart from musical bamboo, and now at nearly ten pm when the timer has stopped ringing the church bells, it is so quiet I can still just hear the humming of the bees nest inside the window of the old building not six feet from Sadies open window. The only slight block on this picture of perfection ....... the washing up is still to do. Ah well; it was a lovely meal and there is enough for tomorrow night too. Best get on with it I suppose. It is one of my rules. Washing up done and everything put away before bed. You just never know when or if you may have to make a hasty get away. It has never happened yet but the night I decide to leave the dishes...... Well; I don't think you need me to tell the inevitable end to that story.

'Rocamadour' was where we had left. Fascinating Rocamadour clinging to its cliff with the steep ziggy zaggy walk down from the Chateaux, where we were parked, to the beautiful pilgrimage church and touristy town below. It is a walk where the Catholic 'Stations of the Cross' are at every sharp turn. They are common all over France and Spain depicting very accurately the human journey. The fact we pick up our cross, burden, or life problems and then, if we don't learn to let them go as and when they make us fall, or as friends and family advise or try to help and support then sure as sure is sure, we crucify ourselves. They are an uncannily accurate depiction in respect of substance mis-users.

It was very wet when we arrived so wet gear came out and we enjoyed a good nose round all the 'tourist tat shops' as I call them, plus a time of reflection in the beautiful chapel and of course back up ziggy zaggy path with more reflections assisted by the well illuminated 'stations' at every zig and zag. Yes; I've certainly picked up a few cross's, or rucksacks as I prefer to call them, on my life's journey. Thankfully, for all the reasons so well alluded to by 'the stations' I have thus far managed to avoid martyring/crucifying myself. However: there is still time......!

The rain was persistent. All books on my Kindle are now read. All DVD's watched, tea consumed, washing up done and still only half past seven. Nothing for it then but to delve in the rear cupboards and pull out Barbara's birthday present to me. 'Meccano set in a tin'. On opening I saw there were three packaged sets with labels on pertaining to the item to be assembled according to the instruction sheet. Hmmph! That is not how Meccano works. I felt much happier when contents of said packages had been randomely dumped with satisfyingly muddled rattle in bottom of tin.
"Now let's see what we can create eh Tanya!"
The picture is of my 'Harly Meccanoson airo Batmotrike'. Not bad eh? I even plonked a piccy of it on facebook with the caption. 'It is official. Now I know I am bonkers'. There was a quick response from a 'facebook friend' questioning the word 'Now'. Cheek eh.

Another Pilgrimage to a place close to heart and mind and now almost an obligatory stopover on my way back to the UK. PLUM VILLAGE. Buddhist monastry and Mindfulness retreat/training centre. I stay at 'upper hamlet', the mens retreat centre which is also home to Thai himself. (Thic Nhat Han)

I practice and read the Dharma (teachings) regularly in my own individualistic way and have done so  for many years. Their psyhcological common sense and wisdom strongly informed my years of counselling practice. I was offering meditation/breathing meditation long before it garnered the fashionable term 'Mindfulness'.

However: the opportunity, for a short time, to practice/be immersed with the 'Sangha' (community) is always a privilege. This visit was no exception. Wonderful meeting of minds, exquisite organic veggie food, walking meditation in warm sunshine and beautiful surroundings plus a spirit enhancing bonus. Thai himself, now a frail wheelchair using stroke affected elder, appeared amidst us, his Sangha, at evening meditation practice. For me this was a deeply touching, very special and practice encouraging unexpected gift. Thank you Plum Village.

I have promised myself once the Tanya and I meditative practice time completes its full course then Plum Village will see me for a full term Retreat.

Bergerac right now. Thunder, lightning and rain hammering on Sadies roof. It has been a wonderful day though. Very very hot & some sadness as we drove away from Plum Village. Reality however; quickly stepped in to address any lingering sadness. Yup you got it. Bloody annoyingly loud "I'm sure that windows gonna bust" crack started up again as soon as I moved.
"Well Tanya. Which bit can I remove now to see if that makes any difference?"

James & then Paradox.

"This is much better Tanya" I said as I emerged dripping from the cool deep pool at the edge of a swiftly flowing 'River Gardan' not far from the 'Pont du Gard' (famouse Roman viaduct). We were once again wildcamped. This time riverside in hot hot sunshine and completely alone.

Four nights on the campsite at 'Beauerecueill' was handy for 'Aix en Provence' but the combination of having to keep Tanya on a lead, (got told off three times. Once with pointy waggy finger), being surrounded by other campers, and having to negotiate busy roads every time you walked outside the site reminded me of why I mainly wild camp. To be fair it was a nice campsite with good showers, WiFi, electric and, a real bonus, Maggie, another solo motorhomer from the UK. We had a couple of real good chats and the world got smaller as we realised our paths virtually crossed many years ago. Does the name Bob/Rob Hussey ring any Bells Richard?

The campsite was purely for conveniance anyway as my reason for visiting the area was to call and see Nephew James who, as luck would have it was that very weekend moving into a more suitable apartment in readiness for wife Fran to join him in July. My toolbox came in very handy and by the time I left late last night the charming, spacious and typical French apartment was definitely looking a bit more like home. Curtains were up, Ikea lamps assembled and kitchen a total mess. The mess, however; was excusable being as it was after a beautifully 'made by James' 'Niccsoise salad' (hav'nt a clue how to spell it but I know good grub when I taste it) plus apple tart.

There was also the unfortunate little incident too, involving washing machine, waste pipe, and a two hour walk round Aix en Provence whose itinery included the Irish bar plus Burger and chips. Believe me we had earned that 'comfort grub' and were of course totally unaware of what awaited us upon return to the apartment. Which, as you may have guessed, was a very wet kitchen floor.

Baffled and cross we set to with towels to cleaning up before water drained through to the ground floor apartment below. We then investigated.

Now, at this point I would like to point out that said washing machine had been plumbed in by one highly skilled and competant civil engineer currently employed to project manage the complete plumbing system of a nuclear power station. He was ably assisted by a certain elderly gentleman of dubious motorhome fame who has a history of successfully plumbing in more washing machines than he cares to remember.

Our thorough, exhaustive, by the book, and detailed investigation soon uncovered the problem. The waste pipe went into a small cupboard under the kitchen window and there it stayed. The dam thing had been neatly cut off allowing all waste water free access to cupboard and kitchen floor.

Question:
Do you think we should maybe have checked before switching machine on and disappearing into Aix' for two hours?
Answers to James please but basically I would be very worried if I were you. Very very worried!

Motorhoming is a funny business and one which is often full of 'opposites' or paradox. Yesterday was a good slow and peaceful day which lasted right through to an early doors swim/morning wash followed by breakfast outside in the warm sunshine. Finally, at a leisurely pace, off we go again heading for 'Gorges l'Ardeche'. Fortune however; for this day, had no intention of granting us a second peaceful agenda.

First off my experimental sat nav settings got madame in a right tis so she took us down a 'just tooooo narrow' lane. OK: I forgave, negotiated my backwards escape, paused to intimately modify her ladyships settings and continued successfully on our way.

Next up had me muttering both to Tanya and myself.
"Why and what is that orange light glaring omminously at me from the dashboard?"
Stop again. Lunch this time along with investigation via Sadies operators manual. Turns out my brakes;- 'have reached limit of safe mode of operation'. In plain english that means they'll need sorting in the next couple of weeks. OK I can live with that but the day was not yet over. One more suprise was still on the agenda.

A rough bit of road and 'CRACK'. A loud ominous sound issued forth from somewhere front and left. For two days now multiple stops. I've looked, I've listened, I've pondered, I've moved/undone/tightened/untightened/lubricated etc etc. All to no avail. The only thing I've achieved is to establish that Sadie is not broken (yet) and wishes now to have regular 'crack' sounds as part of her modus operandi. That plus the rattle under the dashboard which for five years has defeated all my attempts to silence, is now, I guess, what I'm gonna have to put up with while driving.

All this while slowly meandering up the beautiful Ardeche Gorge. A time of mindful paradox indeed

Phone, a divorce. Cyclists, sun & rain.

My new phone was a hairs breadth away from being flung out the window last night. I used to be 'up with it' as far as computers and mobile phones go but just lately I've come to realise 'tecchie world' is so far ahead of me I don't even understand what has gone wrong when it goes wrong, why it has gone wrong, how to fix it or how to stop my pissed offness turning to anger and then depression. Hence phone has been switched off for a whole day.

It's all to do with Mrs Sat nav. Basically our relationship is over, we've split and she's b*******d off taking all maps with her. Oh! and she sabotaged her workstation too which has left me with only one option. Trusty old paper maps and frequently getting lost. Which funnily enough has a familiar feel to it. There are bonus's though. Paper map equals stick to major roads. The N340 to be exact. Big traffic jam so we dive off down a side road and come upon the charming 'Castellet la Gornal'. Complete with empty and ideal car park under the castle ramparts giving views over the large lake of 'Riu de Foix'. 
There was a second bonus too. A restaurant with fast Wi Fi connection where I was able to re-load some maps back into a re-installed Mrs Sat nav. I'm sorta hoping this younger and updated model will be less troublesome. (Please feel free at this point to act out, with passion, the statement:- 'Ha! don't this guy ever learn'.) Lets just hope she does'nt talk to the X Mrs Sat nav eh!

The whole map thing was upsetting as I was about to negotiate Barcelona and did not fancy my chances using a paper map clipped on the window plus magnifying glass to read it while dancing clumsily down narrow streets full of busy, foreign and aggressive city centre traffic.

I had only recently, during my latest visit to Lenny and Wyms lovely country villa in the Almond and Peach orchards North of 'Gandia', loaded fresh maps onto my new phone. So you can see why I was tearing my hair out when 'Mrs (now departed) Sat nav' decided, all on her own with not a word of warning, to update and ditch all maps.

Right now however; I am very peaceful, calm and happy. Who would'nt be, having your own home on wheels parked overlooking a mirror calm lake on the edge of the very civilised town of 'Banyoles'. I've cup of tea on the go, Tanya is fed and snoozing on her 'drivers seat bed' and in a minute I'll decide what to do. Shall it be Wash dishes first or myself? I'm slowly wending my way to France via 'Cadaques' a place I love and although reaching it means travelling extremely twisty mountainous and very slow roads, it is a stunning way to enter France from Spain. Weather is forecast to be dull, dare I say it, even raining, for the next few days so there is no hurry.

Talking of mountains I was atop a steep pass over the mountains yesterday on my way here to 'Banyoles' The pass was on the border of the 'Garoxta' and 'Barcelona' areas of 'Catalunya'. We had stopped for lunch and as I parked up so did another car with two English speaking Dutch ladies. The one, with camera in hand, set of briskly down the steep hill while the other explained to me they were waiting for her 69 year old husband to finish cycling up the pass. She went onto explain that it was now two years since his heart attack and after driving up the pass ahead of him she was not too confident he would make it. She said the last part, which I was due to travel down, was extremely steep. Well he did make it much to his, his sister, and his wife's delight. I duly clapped and cheered as he topped the rise very out of breath but in good shape and with an ear to ear grin on his face. They all joined me in Sadie for coffee and chocolate cake. I felt kinda underwhelmed in the presence of this super fit 'year older than me' guy and it did'nt help as he explained this was a practice run ready for the real race in a couple of days time. When they left Tanya and I set off for an hour long walk along the wooded ridge. I was knackered when we got back!

"Ah! This is'nt what we want is it Tanya." I said as I looked despondantly at the mist and listened to the rain hammering down on Sadie's roof here in 'Cadaques'. It was, however; exactly the weather as forecast. Furthermore it is forecast for the whole week over Spain and France so no chance to drive out of it. Funny how situations turn. There's me seeing Zoe (niece) complaining of sunburn back in the UK and Ry (X wife still good friends) travelling on the Kennet and Avon canal in her home, a canal barge, in glorious weather. All compliments of Facebook.

I cannot complain though. Just four days ago we were in very hot sunshine too. Naked on a designated 'Nudista' beach in a bay and holiday resort that went by the exotic name 'Temple de Sol'. We came across it purely by chance as we diverted off the main road for a lunch stop. Lunch was quickly put together and off we headed down a rough track to the most deserted end of the beach. On 'Nudistas' I usually observe, as a solo elderly male appearing among the numerous pairs of glistening and basting mounds of flesh that I am initially seen, even though clothed at this point, as threatening, predatory and voyeuristic. Never been a problem for me just an observation. I am soon stripped, beach umbrella raised to give Tanya shade, and I am in the sea enjoying a gorgeous cool, and favorite thing, naked swim. The basting female bodies once they witness this seem to lose interest but fidgety (and mainly with their 'bits') glistening unhealthilly brown/orange males restlessly stroll ankle deep in the gently lapping waves. They tend ever closer toward my end of the beach demonstrating to their respective females their courage in respect of 'I can do the cold sea bit too you know'. In all I suppose we were about one and a half hours on the beach swimming initially then eating lunch. In all that time, and I could see virtually the whole bay, not one other person went any deeper than ankle into the sea. What a missed opportunity is all I can say. For me one of life's great gifts is a cool naked swim in a clear blue Med sea.

I am afraid there will be none of that here in Cadaques this year. The driving rain and green wild foamy sea are not the seductive deliciousness this area usually affords me. A shame as the stunningly beautiful coves are a definite walking and swimming favourite of mine.

"On to France tomorrow then eh Tanya."