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

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

Peñíscola & Parque de La Serra D’Irta

The usual recommendations from ourtour.co.uk came good yet again. I was ultimately aiming for the Costa Brava, and Tossa de Mar in the first instance, as I will be spending a week with a friend who’s flying from Leeds/Bradford to Girona in a couple of days. I didn’t want to do another long drive from the Denia region to there and so researched places north of Valencia to break the journey. The decision was finally made to visit the above town, and as with Nerja, the same campsite used by ‘ourtour’- Camping Ferrer.

In the end I stayed for 3 nights, and got quite used to the place. It’s only a small campsite, and not the most ‘beautiful’ in terms of the 4/5 star ones I’ve booked for when my guest arrives :), but everyone was friendly, the price was very reasonable and It’s location was great. It’s walkable to the beautiful beaches, the old town and castle, many restaurants and cafes and then yesterday my discovery of the Parque Serra de Irta. I realised that this protected area of mediterranean coast is between Peniscola and the town of Alcossebre, which I stayed at in 2019 and it’s possible to cycle on the dirt tracks in the Irta from one to the other.

I just went looking for the Alcossebre post, and remembered (thankfully) that I hadn’t got going with the blog in 2019 until I got to Olvera, thereby missing out recording travels to Carcassonne, Calella de Palafrugell , Cuenca, Granada, and the first part of my journey through France and Spain in that year with my sister. I do remember, and Google maps confirms, that there is another campsite in the Parque at the Alcossebre side called La Ribera, which I will have to stay at in the future, I loved this unspoilt area, of beautiful hills and coves, clear blue water and not too many humans. It would be interesting to know how busy it would get in July/August, as there are mostly only bumpy dirt roads and tracks through the landscape.

My bike is great for getting me to these places, and rides well with its thick 20-inch tyres over these sorts of tracks. It’s motor of course means that hills are not a blocker to exploring. The third picture conveys everything I enjoy about travels by campervan and bike (electric preferably now!) – access to beautiful places, in beautiful weather and hearing snapshots of different peoples’ stories along the way. Two bikes in the picture, meaning the presence of an adventures companion, would be the icing on the cake.

Peniscola is, I would imagine, a significant holiday town, with more large hotels, beach-front accommodation etc than Denia or Nerja. The beach goes on for miles, so one of the days I cycled along its length north to Benicarlo. It seems that this whole area is not geared up to British tourists or ex-pats. I mostly heard Spanish with quite alot of French and some German, and these were the majority on the campsite also.

It was great to spend an evening chatting with Valentina, a Ukrainian refugee living in Poland but on a ‘working’ holiday with her French partner, Jean-Francois, who’s from near the town of Foix. They met a year ago online, and then in-person when Jean-Francois brought his son to Warsaw because he was going to spend some time studying there. Valentina is from Kyiv, and left with her two daughters 3 days after the Russians invaded. She was able to stay with a sister in Poland, and get herself established – she is a languages teacher, so is now teaching remotely, with her elder daughter deciding to study Psychology in English in Vilnius, and her 11-year old daughter attending school in Poland. I think they are currently living in Gdansk. I’m writing all this down because i’m always interested in the ‘international’ lives that people lead, whether by choice or not. Valentina seems a very positive person and as with the family I hosted, determined to make the most of the changes forced upon them.

Am now near Tossa de Mar, preparing to pick up tomorrow morning my adventures companion for this week. Looking forward to it.

Posted by admin in Places, Spain

Denia/Javea Casita via Mojacar

Decided to do another long stretch from Nerja to the house of long-standing university friends in the above area.

The landscape through Almeria, and into the Murcia regions is very arid and the word ‘brutalist’ sums it up for me. Lots of agriculture under plastic poly-tunnels. I do like a tree, or many, and there aren’t any unless veering off into the towns and cities.

As Mojacar was only 10km off the motorway at one point, I went there for a lunch stop and to have a think about Mum. This was one of her happy places which her partner had introduced into her life, and I had also joined them on two occasions in March with the last one in 2019. I wanted to see whether any half-built apartment blocks had been completed, and whether it was still as beautiful and welcoming in June. It was, and some of the buildings had been completed.

The motorway journey was great and only really got busy around Alicante. The landscape suddenly changed at Ca;lpe and became green with trees, and it felt as though I had driven all the way to the Cote d’Azur.

When I finally found my friends’ house in the La Sella area, I spent a geat 4 days with them, staying in their annex, enjoying the beautiful location and having them as tour guides around Denia, Javea and into the mountains for a paella. Hopefully I’ll have other times in the future to visit. They haven’t aged a day 🙂

Ultimately heading for the Costa Brava, I decided to stay at a small site at the medieval town of Bocairent, passing Ontinyent inland from Valencia. Very beautiful wide valleys here with vineyards, and surrounded by hills/low mountains. The Beach Boys accompanied some of the rising temperature to more than 30 degrees. Most unfortunately the little campsite of 6 pitches was fully booked, and so I drove on, stopping at a site at another medieval town, Xativa.

On final arrival I was shattered from some of the drive taking me through very narrow residential streets in towns along the way, and having to do more than one u-turn due to the lack of signs for the campsites. And how could I almost forget another of my most hated episodes: trying to navigate to a gas station which had LPG, and then trying to get some out of the pump and into the vehicle, in this case from what seemed to be a completely un-‘personned’ station.

After about 10 mins in the heat of the midday of repeatedly reading the destructions on the pump (another sign of madness) and trying to get the pump to clamp onto one of my 4 or so adaptors, there suddenly appeared a hero-type with his polo-shirt indicating he was a gas station attendant. Between his Spanish and my English, and my obvious welcome at his appearance, he conveyed that I needed to activate my card payment on another machine away from the LPG pump first (not in the instwuctions), He then proceeded to achieve the process with ease, and deal unflinchingly with the explosion on de-clamping the pump. My jubilance lasted all the way until the narrow residential street driving.

After the arrival cup of tea and period of collapse, I forced myself off to walk round the town for a couple of hours, and it was well worth the visit, even though I will not be going upto the castle at the top.

Going to go for another long journey tomorrow.

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