Musings

South Africa 2024 Week 1 – Capetown & Hermanus

The amazing trip of a lifetime I’d been invited on last year finally rolled around 3 November 2024. I had returned from Spain with almost 4 weeks to go to get 3 vaccinations each against Hep B and Rabies, have long-overdue cuddles with my granddaughter and various other life admin activities in preparation for flying to Capetown for an incredible 3-week itinerary. This was all organised by the good friend whose long-story heritage is Zimbabwe/South Africa before a UK life, and part of her 60th birthday year of travel. All I had to do was pay dosh when instructed and get myself and stuff ready.

It was luxury to have a door-to-door chauffeur service from my friend’s brother-in-law to Heathrow airport for an 11-hour overnight BA flight. The latter component of travel is definitely something I undertake through gritted teeth. Without having taken any flights longer than 4 hours for 30 years, my main fears about ‘toilet management’ – an unfortunately ever-present life theme – were justified. Selecting an aisle seat to remove some of the causes for concern before the 24-hour only in advance check-in is a significant extra charge on such flights. On the return journey the app check-in failed me in changing the window seat allocation to an aisle on so will have to pay more money if I should travel across oceans again. The BA flight apart from the above concern was all ok. My underlying anxiety re being in any aircraft I can keep in check and there was hardly any turbulence. Sleep hardly happened but I was comfortable enough. In the scheme of things, I know the necessary evils are minimal to be able to see other parts of the planet.

Driving from the airport to Capetown was really the first time for me of seeing significant large-scale non-developed world poverty of the ‘informal settlements’ (formerly ‘townships’) along the main arterial routes outside of towns and cities as the taxi brought us to our first 4-night stay at a lovely small hotel in the area of Greenpoint near the Water Front.

That afternoon we went on a tourist bus ride all around the city and it’s Table Top mountain, other bays and suburbs. We could see that indeed Capetown is beautiful and vibrant, with tourism & farming served at the ground level by black and coloured (the word they use) south africans and other nationalities, living in and travelling from obviously poorer parts. This artwork from the South African Contemporary Art Gallery captures the informal settlements, but does make them seem less ‘bleak’ to me.

The next morning saw us visit the District 6 museum which documents and gives witness to the imposed clearance by the Apartheid regime in the ’60s of a thriving albeit ‘poor’, multicultural area called District 6 to create a ‘white’ area. Very moving to read about the history and context for this, and listen to a guide in his 80s, who had been a resident there and lived through it. The clearance and relocation to the ‘Cape Flats’ area, miles away from people’s work, happened, but the area ‘white’ redesignation was not achieved and it still remains a green non-built on patch of land in the city centre.

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The theme of listening to black and coloured South Africans talk about their lived experiences of suffering under apartheid continued. We visited Robben Island, as part of the state-organised tour, where Nelson Mandela and many others were imprisoned for years into decades. The guide was someone who had spent 5 years there in the 70s as a political prisoner. Again very impactful and sobering. Nelson Mandela’s cell in the image – for many years prisoners were not given any kind of bed – just one indication of the levels of cruelty with which people (and many had not committed violence) were treated.

We had an early start for the next day’s driven tour round and about to Cape Point, the most southwesterly point of South Africa, with a stop at Simonstown and the Boulder Beach penguin colony and then onto the Buitenverbrachting vineyard in the Constantia area founded by Simon van der Stel, the first Governor of the new Dutch colony in the early 1700s. We saw plenty of baboons who are now needing management to protect residences and farms. On the return we came across 3 ostriches and about 12 little chicks sauntering along a road in the national park.

Day 3 was an even earlier start of a 6am pickup by a guide for our hike up Table mountain. It was a recognised route – Kasteelspoort – and I did not expect the rock climbing required up one of the Twelve Apostles – see photo – from Camps Bay below, with the prize of taking the cable car back down. Brimham Rocks on steroids.

The mountainside got steeper and steeper and therefore brought for me less and less looking back at the view, more just focussing on the next foot placement on the rock faces/ledges, and more anxiety.

At a stopping point after a very challenging section and seeking info from the guide about whether the route was going to continue like this, I and another of our four with a very definite fear of heights, were seriously concerned to hear that some of the remaining route required us to climb up ladders; my friend thought the guide said some 18 metres rather than the 5 + 8 he actually said, but both of us had images of vertical ladders up against sheer rock faces from a tiny ledge. Despite this, continuing up seemed preferable to having to re-trace our climbing with unavoidable gazing downwards, the route plateau’d out and anxiety retreated somewhat . The eventual sight of the ladders in the distance brought sighs of relief as we realised the location and gradient of the ladders did not match our fears.

Imho, it was a real achievement to get to the cable car – near 1000 metres, and the photos say it all.

It was well worth it to have these days led by very experienced and knowledgeable guides, to understand some history, and flora and fauna information.

The next part of our itinerary was a drive to Plett & its bay for a 5-day led ‘slack-packing’ walk from guesthouse to guesthouse in the Plettenberg countryside. We hired a car and broke the journey in Hermanus, where we had originally tried to book on a similar ‘camino’ activity. This part of South Africa is famous for whale-watching from the boardwalk but in the late afternoon/evening we spent there we were not fortunate. Still, this is also a beautiful part of the coastline. Before arriving there we stopped off at the most southerly point of South Africa, Cape Agulhas, where the Indian and Atlantic Ocean meet.

Posted by admin in Musings, Places, South Africa, 0 comments

Spain 2024 – Last Post

I broke the journey between Toledo and Bilbao by staying once again at the minicipal campsite in Burgos, and woke up to a cold morning, but sunshine eventually breaking through. The route to Bilbao went through beautiful orange, yellow and some green patchwork plateaus unfolding in the distance, and the mountainous, green countryside of the Parque Natural de Gorbeia.

My short visit found Bilbao to be an interesting city – geographically condensed into both sides of a steep-sided estuary valley, some 20km from the port, with the countryside ‘right there’. I did two bike-exploring trips from the private campervan stop high-up above the city, and found contemporary riverside areas and buildings, including the Guggenheim musem, next to the old quarter. Visiting the museum will have to wait for another trip. But I was again feeling jaded and in effect ready to down exploring tools, so I just enjoyed the views from the pitch, still sunny and warm. My dutch neighbours had travelled into Spain from France due to the days of rain they’d experienced with no change forecast. We were very fortunate to have the good weather we experienced, particularly in Galicia, with the days prior to our time there very rainy, and then in the week after I travelled back to Seville

The ferry journey from Bilbao to Portsmouth was the best I’ve enjoyed – a really comfortable ‘shiny’ ship ‘Salamanca’ – everything looks and feels new and my 4-berth cabin, which was the only type remaining to book, was luxury – even a TV with british mainstream channels, and film viewing. Some 29 hours of enforced doing nothing other than blissful reading, while the sea was flat – leaving in the sunshine, and skirting the Isle of Wight in some sunshine, some 28 hours later.

I feel it has been a more ‘out of comfort zone’ August & September this year but I know I am very fortunate to have all the means necessary to be able to undertake this travel and different activities. Spain has certainly put on a show. It’s a massive, varied country, landscape-wise, with a fantastic road infrastructure. My van has been a great drive and haven once again. Consistently, with few exceptions, I have found people to be courteous and helpful whether that’s on the roads as a cyclist or pedestrian or in the cafes, restaurants, campsites and hotels. My tech has helped with video calling, and the purchase of a new phone and kindle this year has been worthwhile for reliable battery life particularly for navigation, storage for photos and videos and getting into reading some great fiction again.

I have had pleasant, albeit too short conversations this trip with campsite neighbours, with help offered to solve my leaking water tank outlet, or put air in the van’s tyres from the supportive motorhome/van community.

This group of young Italians were very happy for me to put the photo on my blog – they had flown to Malaga, hired a VW, and were touring round, all five of them sleeping in the van, before returning it to the city and flying back to Italy. I love the positivity, enthusiasm and ‘can do’ captured here.

Travelling solo, I feel I am always on a camino in terms of reflecting as I go on my life, past, present & future, and the world in which it finds itself. I continue to be aware of and thankful for my life’s relative good fortune including good health and my fantastic family. I know that my long-distance cycling bucket-list item would most likely not have happened without the invitation and support of very good friends.

The planet and humanity, though, it has seemed to me for a long time, are not in a good place. As a ‘little person’ I can do very little but hope that the current social media-led, history-forgetting, lemming-like misplaced trajectory towards the cult, narcissistic, gangster leadership!! of ‘strong men’, whether political or oligarchs, will ultimately be seen for what it is without the impact of their non-accountable power grab, and in increasing cases horrendous crimes, spreading further. Where is the voice of the female 50% of the world’s population in what we see unfolding? May Kamala Harris break through in November as Obama and Biden managed to do against the toxic tide.

Posted by admin in Musings, Places, Spain

Los Cincos Famosos – Camino Beginning

At preparation meetings in the previous Autumn, we had decided to call ourselves the Spanish version of The Famous Five, particularly given that our Julian was the oldest.  I think I claimed George, (wonder why), Nicola or Judith were Dick and/or Anne, and Graham was Timmy the dog. Julian and Judith had 2 years previously cycled a pilgrim route from Folkestone to Rome on their road bikes, and had also walked the Camino del Norte route to Santiago, so their confidence as to feasibility certainly carried me through at that stage.

On 4/9 I left Camping Villsom to move to Area Parking Caravane where, via very informal email exchange, I had booked my van for a storage stay up to 23/9.  It was one of those locations on one side of a dual carriageway, very easy to see and, if heading in the wrong direction, sail past the unlikely slip road it was on. I could envisage this shoot-past happening more than once, so was relieved to get to the entrance first time and everything was confirmed.  I would be on an electric hook-up spot for that night, it is possible to stay there for approx 20eu per night and for info they have a small swimming pool, but then I needed to move it to a storage spot after getting my bike and stuff ready before my set off the next day around 7:15am.

That afternoon I had a dry-run, cycling into the city to transport the battery to the other e-bike rider Nicola.  She and the other tres famosos had flown their bikes across from the UK, then having to put them together after the bike box disassembly requirements. Bike batteries are not carried by airlines however, (nor coaches, and regional trains in Spain) hence me transporting it along with mine in the van from the UK.

Overall I was feeling extremely weary, and in effect ‘less than up for’ this bike challenge.  I think this was due to the trepidation mentioned in an earlier post and the significant amount of decision-making, organisation both mental and physical, and underlying stress of anticipation of a lot of unknown in a relatively short space of time, after working very hard to round off my contract, in preparation and since I left the UK.  I was not able to summon up enthusiasm and excitement to match the others, and I have recognised in this hindsight journalling that my sentiments would not be what they wanted/needed to hear, dampening possibly the start of their long-awaited holiday. In my mind I was always ready for the bail-out options – by train or hire car from one of our visited towns – but I was concerned about the possibility of stuff going wrong with the electric motor when we were high up in the middle of nowhere. And I certainly didn’t want the others’ holiday to be affected which was a pressure in itself.

But, early the next morning, having packed the bike up, stilI feeling that I wanted to back out, I forced myself to go and cycle the approx 5 miles to the meet-up at Seville Cathedral.  I didn’t use the battery, but knowing from very shortly after our group set-off how I had to have the battery on the lowest ‘Eco’ setting to keep up with the others on the flat, this did contribute to the second day of ‘bloody hell, how am I going to achieve this’ blues.

No wonder my speed didn’t reflect the amount of time Google said it would take! and my washed-out look in our set-off photo captures it all well.

It was a glorious morning, as indeed were all mornings apart from one which was particularly cold and a wind across the plains for a couple of hours. Eventually a rhythm was reached as we left Seville and headed for the first overnight at a village called Almaden de La Plata, approximately 80km away. We were following the on-road route described by John Haynes in the Cicerone book of the Ruta Via de la Plata

The scenery was stunning, it was hilly countryside and there were significant climbs, and the heat increased. 

Unfortunately a good few kms short of the destination my bike battery suddenly ‘went’.  I had been monitoring it as it discharged and how the gauge was displaying.  Even though I had done a 60-mile ride around York, I had never come anywhere close to the display showing only 1/5th of battery left. Given this unknown on a very long ride, I had only been using the first 2 of 4 settings of motor power, only resorting to the 2nd when I had to to get up hills. 

Some of my luggage was taken by Nicola, and there was still at least a visible longish downhill section before a reasonably long uphill.  It’s seared into my memory, pushing my still very heavy bike & luggage in 38 degrees up the considerably steep hill, hanging a scarf from under my helmet to try and shelter from the relentless sun. With the encouragement of my own personal mountain rescue team member in the form of Graham, we got our bikes to the top and with tremendous relief, free-wheeled downhill into Almaden which we could see below.

For the first night we targeted the municipal albergue. Not able to book anything in advance, I was very relieved to see we would at least have a bunk. It was a very pleasant place with well-equipped kitchen, nice dining room, bathrooms etc with other pilgrims being 2 older women from Brazil, a 76-year old French woman and a young British guy walking.

Hilarity and giggles did break through and hope was there for a recuperating sleep as we navigated the set-up and settled down for the night.

The whole village had other ideas however, as they congregated after a pilgrim’s bedtime on public benches right outside the dormitory window on the ground floor. All ages remained there in loud (and happy) community until at least gone midnight. Those who know I’m a very light-sleeper may realise that even the trials of the day did not take me out of the misery of lying there awake for hours, ear-plugs not doing it. More about accommodation in the next post.

There are photos of me waiting for the rest of the team to finish their prep the next morning for set-off. My face speaks volumes, but I am too conceited to include an aged and weary ‘older generation family-likeness’ me here. Worse than the washout. Nevertheless, 24-hours of a long kilometer-wise Day 1 had been survived.

Learnings:  as suggested by some of the team, at every café stop I needed to ask and if necessary pay to get that battery plugged in.  I duly did so.

Posted by admin in Musings, Places, Spain

Travelling to Seville for cycling rendez-vous

The cycling trip, which I heard about last Autumn, and for which my request to join was accepted, has finally come around and headspace for this re-engaged following toddler exit. I am on the move taking 5 days to travel down to Valencia and then across to Seville.

It’s been a re-engaging after over a year with major campervan solo pottering. Notwithstanding my fan/battery trials described in the previous post, I enjoyed a 3-night stay at a motorhome site in Alcossebre, on the coast some 60 miles or so north of Valencia, last discovered on my career break 5 years ago. It is just across the Serra D’Irta natural park area which I posted about in last year’s travels re Peniscola.

On a beach visit I had an interesting conversation with a Swiss mother of 3 who was there with her Spanish husband and the children. Both of them ‘insect researchers’ (‘life’s like a box of chocolates’), met and married at UC Berkeley, California and now moved to Valencia, to be closer to in-laws in Europe. The conversation started as she offered me her shoes so that I could actually get into the stony cove’s water without risking my knees or ankles, something one is very aware of given the need to drive and then cycle! Perhaps I already appear as a hobbling geriatric to younger generations :). In the end I abandoned the attempt to actually launch myself off the painful, slippery stones and into the very inviting water in favour of sitting very close to her in the shallows and asking where her English accent came from, as I couldn’t place it. I could have asked ever more nosy questions as I’m always interested in life decision-making of international families, but I do credit myself with some emotional intelligence re not causing people to fear that they won’t be able to shake off this solo, older person.

Saturday saw a drive of approx 6.5 hours to get within 2-3 hours of Seville, enjoyable scenery, great roads -only busy near to Valencia-, and I remembered to connect my phone via bluetooth and play some great music.

I was very glad to reach my destination in a village called Santa Elena on the edge of the Parque Natural de Despenaperros, which is only about 1 km off the motorway. This area describes itself as a gateway to Andalucia, and I found the site via the Park4Night app which I continue to highly recommend. For approx 17 euros per night without electricity, the campsite even has a swimming pool and good wifi as provided in Alcossebre. As a first, I decided to eat some olives which came with a glass of wine at the campsite bar, rather than be embarrassed because I didn’t tell the waiter I didn’t want them when he first brought them! Interesting human behaviour, and observing, analysing, recording. Notwithstanding the cerebral activities, the taste could grow on me.

I wonder whether I can create the moorish feel of the toilet block entrance in my little bathrooms at home. The actual toilets themselves have thrown down a gauntlet to my squatly-challenged legs, as they are all small child-height off the ground, reminding me that once back I do need to be more intentional about other forms of regular exercise if I want to keep being active.

I am staying a second night for squat exercise, then heading to Seville.

The next day, Monday ……., having looked at some cycling group messages late last night, I realised that my expected rendez-vous time of Wed was wrong. We are setting off on Thursday. I have therefore decided to aim for two nights at Camping Villsom, where I stayed before to visit Seville. It has a lovely swimming pool which, having arrived and set up, I’ve already taken advantage of. I’ve gone for the 7amp luxury electricity supply as the fridge gave up running on gas overnight. So it does obvs need a tiny bit of electricity even for that.

It’s been 34deg driving across the very, very dry plains between Cordoba and Seville. Thank goodness the aircon’s working. I did have a panic when, driving quite happily, all of a sudden a big bee flew past my shoulder. Majorly flapping (me) to find a solution to keep the bee where it was – stuck thankfully in the driver seat window frame -, I got undertaken by a tanker and honked at rightfully, as the motorway added an extra slow climb lane which I failed to notice. The normally 2-lane motorway was pretty empty so this wasn’t too bad a misdemeanor. I had to come off the motorway to get it out of the vehicle. There’s always something. At one point some of the flowering shrubs in the central reservation were on fire – looked like it had just started.

Andujar looked nice as I drove past – further research to be done.

I confess to trepidation regarding the heat, which on the coast was hot enough at 30deg, never mind up through Spain’s landmass, as well as my performance ability, even on my trusty e-steed. The aim is to leave my campervan in a motorhome parking near the airport , meet up with the other 4 ‘Los Cincos Famosas’ at 10:00am at Seville cathedral 4/9 5/9, and cycle many days along the Ruta Via de La Plata to Santiago de Compostela in northwest Spain. The return leg will be via Spain’s high-speed rail network back to Seville, with my extremely heavy bike in a bag, minimalist clothing backpack and an extra bike battery belonging to one of the group, to re-join my home on wheels. Then I will make my way surely but quicker back to the UK than I had envisaged due to previously unplanned circumstances.

Posted by admin in Musings, Places, Spain

Toddler adventure round-up

The inaugural 3-generation continental trip ended according to plan 2 days ago, as I saw Danni & Mia off into Security at Girona airport.

Practicalities first. Everything logistics-wise worked and it was certainly the best decision to rent an air-conditioned apartment with breakfast rather than stay on a campsite and self-cater all food. The temperature has reached almost 30 degs every day, and it has been great to be able to come back to a cool space. The little apartment was also safe and a good size for Mia who’s not quite walking unaided, as were the communal spaces and dining room. The hotel was within 300m of a beautiful beach with crystal-clear water, as well as supermarket, cafes, restaurants etc, but also had a swimming & toddler pool which was very welcome to come back to each day.

Palamos is a smallish town, but busy with mainly Spanish holiday-makers in this still high season, with different beaches to be able to walk to, so we did pack-horse wise including parasol, beach tent, water/sun protection stuff for Mia, snacks to keep her distracted at fractious moments – usually when she wanted to be not restricted to the pram – to Playa La Fosca and Sant Antoni. Whilst we had the travel pram which was great to be able to fold down and carry with one hand, it was not robust enough like my memories of our trusty McClaren to contain a baby and load all the bags onto it. So we drove to Calella de Palafrugell, and another day to Playa de Castell, which I had come across by chance 5 years ago. We also spent an incredibly hot afternoon inland at Girona, certainly worth a re-visit with more time and less heat, and then the last day before the flight at Tossa de Mar.

The van had to be parked 10 mins away for free in the Palamos football stadium car park, so there was always an underlying concern that each visit to it would uncover some damage. This did not materialise, and other motorhomes staying overnight provided reassurance.

Mia got used to the sea, eventually bobbing about confidently in an inflatable ring in which she’s tipped forward for a more swimming position. Bucket and spade equipment was also engaged with.

There were some successes with her managing to have naps in the beach tent, but generally she definitely had fomo :).

We only had to deal with one major pooping incident in her reusable swim nappy. Presume this has now been put in the washing machine for a thorough going-over.

Overall emotions – absolutely knackering, but a reasonable sleep for most nights brought renewed energy to share in Mia’s delight as she wanted to walk and run, chase birdies, look at doggies, watch ball games, all bent over double and I must mention again, in the heat. She loved the breakfasts and I would say had an adult portion of everything each day.

Bedtime would come at 7.30pm, with the 2 carers then slumped most evenings, only capable of watching episodes of Celebrity Race Across the World, and Freddie Flintoff’s Preston cricket team, rather than joining our Spanish holiday-maker peers out and about all evening. We did make the effort to have a shower and put glad-rags on rather than pyjamas for the last evening which was also my birthday and saunter along the front to find some kind of nice restaurant, but most of these only started serving food at 8pm. All life was happening – walking, cycling, scootering, swimming & playing in the sea, and needless to say, Mia wanted to embrace her inner Spanish child and join in. We managed to enjoy a sangria and churros, before having a burger and chips in relay activity.

Grateful for good health and wherewithall for precious time and memories. I had to swallow a lump in my throat as they disappeared into an airport lift and I waved goodbye.

Posted by admin in Equipment, Musings, Spain, The Good

Travels with a Toddler – 2024

‘Momentous 2023’ was the title of a post I created in July last year but never published, announcing my new title as Nana given the birth in July of my first grandchild – a beautiful little girl – just to set the context for the below – apologies for the lack of polishing. No time when in the presence of the new human being is the overarching theme.

5 days of travel by campervan accompanied by mother and daughter duo Danni & Mia, including a quick stop to visit Great Grandma in Burton on Trent; overnight in the new and lovely discovery Bradford on Avon; 22ish hours on the good ship Pont Aven from Plymouth to Santander in a cabin with 2 bunks and a just about fit travel cot provided by Brittany Ferries with the assurance that “all our cabins can accommodate a cot” so that it was barely possible to get into the little shower room; 21deg+ (the newly-installed fan did help somewhat) overnight campsite stops in the Spanish cities of Logrono and Zaragoza, re-visits needed given lack of time and related necessary additional energy requirements; a further 200 miles with frequent stops to Palamos …………

have brought me to this 5:20am as far as I can tell squinting in the dark at my phone moment, lying as still as can be listening to road noise (one of many pet hates), the hum of air con, the regular movement of the little person in the cot at the end of the bed, constructing these sentiments to institute 2024 blog publications due to popular demand.

It’s now 7:30am and this content has been produced having successfully (success looks like not waking a just 1-year old ) crept out of bed fumbling for glasses, phone, and laptop to exit with as minimum noise as possible the studio apartment into the hotel’s atrium spaces.

I have worn more or less the same clothes for the journey, with my stripey dress serving even more purposes, with just not enough time and energy to apply the usual mitigations for the ravages of aging to myself.  It’s all gone to pot in favour of the demands of 2nd pair of hands duties of Nana. 

It must be said that a proof of concept campervan adventure was conducted to a posh site at Silverdale a few months ago, with my good self sleeping for the first time for many, many years in a tent.  The sun shone, and therefore of course the current trip should work.

I will go back to the room to prepare for our official 1st day at the Spanish seaside.

Posted by admin in Musings, Spain