Places

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

May/June ’23 Trip Roundup

Something about driving north through France towards a ferry booking in early July, and the facts that I’d done quite alot of moving on in 5 weeks, and had paid £10 extra for a changeable ‘flexi’ ticket, brought me to the conclusion that I was happy to finish the trip slightly earlier than planned, and the other places I had envisaged would keep.

So I set out to cover the ground from Bordeaux to Le Havre, with a stopover near Le Mans over two days, having successfully managed to change the booking. Although the region between Tours and this city was at the end of many hours of driving, still I was able to look at the passing landscapes and towns with somewhat fresh eyes, and realise that this region around the river Sarthe was also beautiful. So where isn’t in France?

I did have one moment of absolute horror in an otherwise fantastic uneventful road trip, when all of a sudden my van lost all power. I was able to coast onto the hard-shoulder – still available in France! – on a quiet motorway, and to huge relief re-start the motor immediately. The journey continued in the same uneventful way, and the next day all the way home to north England?? Whether my knee had somehow managed to turn the key in the the ignition to off, I don’t know. But that van has been stupendous and I continue to love it. It needs and deserves two new front tyres immediately upon return.

The campsite I had selected from the Park4Night app, Le Vieux Moulin, was like staying in a lovely garden, only a few kilometres from Le Mans, and in a future tour, I won’t hesitate to stay here again, and recommend.

The next day I opted to drive across country again on non-toll roads up to Honfleur, which is only a few kilometres from Le Havre. I stayed in Honfleur at the end of my 4 months travel back in 2019, and I’d forgotten how lovely a place it is. Likewise for the hinterland of this part of Normandy.

It was great weather, a flat sea and as we sailed past the city, Le Havre looked again to be an attractive place for a future visit. On the list now with the Marais Poitevin, Chatellailon sur Plage, and L’Ile Noirmoutier.

Off the ferry and straight up the A34 from Portsmouth and then onto the motorways became more and more like driving through France and Spain, a result only of rising to the challenge of travelling through the early hours. Thanks to a rest in the 6-hour sailing, and tuning into Heart 70s for the totality, I was actually able to enjoy the journey. When do I have 5 hours of uninterrupted singing-along bliss. What a decade of classics for this 70s girl.

In summary, I continue to be so thankful for my good health, for the material blessings of this vehicle and my bike and other kit, and for this time and money freedom to experience other cultures and landscapes, and meet so many interesting people along the way. And to have all this, knowing that I have a wonderful family, set of friends and home to return to each time.

Looking forward only a few weeks now, who knows how I (and my campervan) will incorporate the momentous change of the arrival of a new next generation family member.

Posted by admin in France, Musings, Places

Bordeaux, Bordeaux

So good they named it I visited it twice.

The campsite was great, offered live music for two nights, the first being great musicians playing Django Reinhart-style French jazz, in a setting on Bordeaux Lac, only about 8-9 kilometres or so via well-designed cycle routes into the centre.

The Tchikiswing from Toulouse

More often than not, live music is a surprise and a gift for me; I even got up and danced due to the insistence of a Belgian couple

But Bordeaux – I’ll just bullet-point what I observed, as it rises to the top of my city list alongside the likes of San Sebastian, Porto, Copenhagen

  • Well-designed cycling city which the residents of all ages and types, with all manner of cargo/child-carrying bikes use
  • Shared public spaces, with walkers, bike and scooter riders, tramways, all co-mingling without hostility; the car is definitely not king and in fact I experienced courtesy from car drivers both here and generally in Spain
  • Absolutely beautiful, yet somehow understated public spaces and buildings being lived in, rather than museum pieces, and enjoyed by all; my favourite was the Jardin Public
  • Smaller, more personal scale than the likes of Madrid, with 1 million inhabitants according to Google, twice as many as Montpellier, similar to Toulouse, less than Porto or Copehagen
  • Sigificantly fewer canine family members in evidence – down to more apartment living for the suburbs I cycled through and the centre?
  • Cycled past camps under underpasses of what looked like groups of immigrants from Africa, and did see other people who I would describe as having fallen through gaps in society
  • Murky brown/sandy river water results from the meeting of the sediment-laden fresh water of the Garonne with the salty sea water of the Gironde estuary, according to Google

My phone camera is not as good as I would like to record what I love to see and be part of.

Posted by admin in Cities-Towns, France, Places

Costa Brava week of shared enjoyment

Well that’s my take on it at least.

As I drove here from the Valencia region, the landscape became greener, with wooded hills on both sides of the autoroute, mountains further inland, and vineyards and other crops in the fields. It is interesting that Spain has got rid of its toll motorways, and those areas which used to have the booths and barriers are still there, with all the installations removed and not in use at all.

Having got to the site 2 days early to suss out the lay of the land, I only had to feel minor anxiety at being able to easily park the van to pick up my friend Rachel at Girona airport. None of my fears – eg finding myself stuck in a multi-storey car park entrance lane -came to pass. It’s a very accessible airport and good roads, convenient for the beautiful and varied coastline of this part of Spain.

The campsite is in a lovely setting which is worth the very steep descent and even steeper 🙂 ascent from its very steep wooded, terraced hillside, to its own beautiful private coves and beaches. The toilet block was also a good 50m significantly downhill, part of the same outweighed disadvantages. Did I mention that it was steep?

The e-bike managed to transport the SUP board rucksack with all the other necessary beach apparel down there, and it was worth the experiment as Rachel and I did manage to kayak across the bay, and briefly paddle along from a kneeling position. Only briefly because the sea was choppy, and in the wind it was hard work for the unpractised two of us to avoid the rocks, if not sitting and using the kayak oar. The bike later got me and the board back up. What a steed.

A beach below our Cala Llevado campsite

One day we walked across the headland the 6 or so kms to Tossa de Mar, recommended by Rachel, which was well worth the up and down in strong afternoon sun. We caught the first live music in the 4 weeks of travel, with very enjoyable flamenco, and a guitarist/singer at a lunchtime restaurant.

I had booked another site for 4 days, the ‘Yelloh’ chain Sant Pol Village at the next town up the coast, Sant Feliu de Guixols, and we could only hope that it would be as enjoyable as the one we were unfortunately leaving. It was very different but great nevertheless, and felt like we had landed in some select 4-star club, with only 20 touring pitches in almost a tropical garden setting with a lovely heated pool with cafe and restaurant, and the rest of the site having wood cabins of various sizes. But guess what? We were at the bottom of the site on a hill, with the toilet block up the equivalent of 4 or 5 flights of stairs, and 350m down the hill to the beach.

Sant Pol seems to be the posh end of Sant Feliu, with several impressive-looking hotels and a gated whole area and headland at one end of the beach.

On one of the days we walked up and down several kilometers across the headland, part of the Costa Brava Cami Ronda I think, to Sant Feliu, and on the way back to realise thankfully that it was only 1km down the actual road from the campsite. The next day we were amazed to see the mediterranean turn into Cornwall, so walked the headland path almost to the town of S’Agaro, finding a red flag on one of the beaches with strict guarding going on, so we couldn’t even cool off. All of this is really beautiful and worth visiting/doing. We had hoped to be able to hire a kayak on our last day there, to go and explore the coves, but the sea was still too rough.

All the extra kit I carry in the van for guests came into its own, particularly as by her own words, Rachel declared and I think still maintains that she likes camping.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

The only additional piece of equipment I could add, but there’s no room in my ‘garage’ under the bed, or anywhere else, given the e-bike, SUP board, power unit, solar panels, tent, etc as well as the other usual camping stuff, would be a second porta-potty. This would offer the annexe an en-suite, and prevent guests from having to walk upto the toilet block in the middle of the night/or very early mornings and then calm the heartbeat to get back to sleep again. This guest was willing (or had to accept that the campervan doors were firmly bolted at night against intruders 😂) to accept the condition of stay, so that I wouldn’t be disturbed by the sliding door being opened to gain access to my toilet. In my defense I am an extremely light sleeper, and you can imagine campsite interruptions. Her stay gets 4 stars from me, with one star dropped as she really could have opened and closed the tent zip more considerately.

We’ve had a great week, and I’ve really enjoyed having company again to share it all with.

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