Space Again

I’m sitting by a Portuguese baragem (lake/dam) listening to the Fado singer Marisa on the radio. The fluffy one is finally feeling well enough to go for a walk and is currently in search of some dolmen that we found on the map. Hugo is asleep on the driver’s seat, soaking up the sun. There are no other vans around us, they're all up in the official Aire, packed in like fish.

Baragem de Povoa

We had enough of sardine central in Badajoz. Our juggling neighbour had parked a small berlingo style van in the space next to his motorhome. Great, we thought! No one else will be able to fit in here. HA! How wrong we were. We were sitting comfortably watching a particularly fabulous Aussie DVD (The Dish, if you’re interested) when we felt the rumble of a camping car as it attempted to park in the minuscule space between Dickie and Juggle Central. It was so close we could barely open the door to get out and kindly suggest the driver bugger off.
‘Yes, it is a bit tight isn’t it,’ they appeared to be saying. Thankfully another neighbour could speak Spanish and English and we managed to get juggling boy to move his little van so that the new neighbours could move over. It all ended with many smiles, handshakes and ‘Feliz años’ but the event gave new meaning to the Aussie expression ‘tight as a nun’s nasty’.
After being woken by yet more tinny music, this time from the festival in the park next to the Aire, we decided it was time to move on before Mr Fluffy turned inside out with despair so we headed over the border to Marvao in Portugal. It’s a stunning hilltop village with views for days.

Space!!

Checking out the scenery

Hike to the fortress

Love a box hedge

Evening visitors

Our only problem there was a van full of mastiff-style dogs that parked next to us last night. The dogs were allowed to roam free with no leads so we felt trapped in Dickie until they left. What wimps we are.
We may stay here by the baragem for a couple of days and work on the tan.
Feliz Ano Novo to all.

From Boar to Moor

The sound of tinny Spanish music is belting out from the juggler’s van next door, several dogs are barking, children are throwing fireworks on the ground and Hugo is about to turn himself inside out with terror. Other than that it’s lovely. We’re in Badajoz, an interesting city on the Portuguese border with a strong moorish history.

Senora del Dolores 

It’s a bit of a change for us as we’ve been in smallish towns and villages for the last two days. In Palma del Rio we also ‘enjoyed’ a plethora of firework fans but it made up for it with a church full of terribly sad Madonnas, a scary baby Jesus, a weird ‘priest with child’ in a glass box,  and, excitement upon excitement, an unexpected Black Madonna.

More sadness

Love a Black Madonna

Make of this what you will

Scary baby Jesus

Yesterday we entered Extremadura and spent the day and night outside a small town called Berlanga. We were excited to find two restaurants, a lake, and weirdly, a zoo. Hugo enjoyed meeting the wild boar in particular but was a bit confused by the ostrich.

Never seen an ostrich before

Lakeside view

Good greetings Miss Boar

We had lunch at one of the restaurants and to say they have not embraced the idea of ‘nouvelle cuisine’ would be an understatement. The photo below shows the vast extent of our starters. This was followed by calamari and a custard desert.

This is the starter

Tomorrow Portugal.

Fuente Found

The best decision we made today was to ignore the arrow suggesting we turn right for the Fuente de las Pilas and keep going straight ahead.

Ignore this arrow

Mr Fluffy pretty much skipped up the steep climb in a carefree manner as I struggled to keep up, panting and limping due to my dodgy knee. Eventually, at the top of the hill, our fuente was found, complete with a wasps nest and a fox poo for Hugo to roll in.

Tempted to throw him in to clean off the fox poo but I didn’t

Wasp nest cleverly hidden

Continues his carefree skipping

Needless to say Hugo had a shower on our return which is no easy task in the van but he now smells divine until the next time.

A couple of hours drive through, yes, even more olive groves, and we’ve arrived at Palma del Rio. The Aire is right next to a children’s playground that has a cafe with WiFi. Hoorah! We might be able to catch up on the Christmas Strictly Special tonight - Mr Fluffy will be so pleased.

Tomorrow we head closer to the Portuguese border.

Oh No, It’s Not A Rhino!

I realised my mistake as soon as I ejaculated the words, ‘look, there’s a rhinoceros!’ Mr Fluffy looked out the window to see a HIPPOPOTAMUS leisurely munching on some straw. He, or she, was surrounded by some bumpy horses otherwise known as camels. The Circus had come to Ubeda and it looked like they had a rather diverse range of animals at their disposal. Sadly we were driving out of town so we won’t be able to enjoy whatever tricks the comfy hippo had up its wrinkly sleeve.

A touch of oil anyone?

We’ve driven through vast groves of olives to our current destination, Doña Mencia, where we partook of our festive Christmas lunch: a pork and salad sandwich for me and blood sausages on a stick for the fluffy one.

Sausages on a stick

Thrilling pork sanger 

After this vast feast we took a stroll through an adjacent grove in search of the Fuentes de las Pilas but it did not want to be found so we took a few shots of the trees instead. These trees here feel ancient and I’m sure house the odd elf or two in their gnarled trunks. Graham swears he met one called Oliver but I think that festive Coca Cola he had with lunch may have gone to his head.

Strolling through the grove

Oliver’s house

Feliz Navidad readers :)

Olives and Nutcrackers

View from the city walls

The city of Úbeda in the mountains east of Cordóba is one of our favourites so far. Olive groves surround the city and, like Cazorla, it is famous for its fine quality olive oil. It obviously once was, and still is, a wealthy city. There are more churches than it needs, all with elaborately carved facades, winding streets and renaissance architecture is dotted around the old UNESCO World Heritage city. There are even a couple of donkeys hanging around outside the Parador.

A hint of decoration

Flat hair

I must commend the pharmacist here as she recommended even stronger medications in the vain hope that the fluffy one will, one day, recover from his man flu. He’ll seem to be getting better one minute then he slips back to hideousness the next. Poor sausage.
Something to cheer him up is the tinny sound of The Nutcracker Suite coming from the iPhone of our Spanish neighbours who, despite the parking area being huge and empty, have parked within a foot or two from Dickie with their side door flung wide open. Mr Fluffy is enjoying it immensely; I can tell by the strained smile on his face when he looks over at them to say ‘Hola’.
Twenty five degrees today. A sunny Christmas Day beckons. Feliz Navidad to you all.

From Aussie to Olives

If the fir trees along today’s drive were swapped for eucalyptus I would have sworn we were in Australia. Red dirt, sparse tussocks of dry grass and an immense vibrant blue sky took me right back to drives through the outback. We are in the high plains of Andalusia and currently parked in the town of Cazorla in the National Park.
The last few days have been spent in orange and lemon groves, a car park in an industrial estate with up to 50 vans spending the winter there (not sure What the attraction was apart from free water),  and a quick sojourn next to a menagerie of a van with a massive dog and a parrot on board.

German speaking parrot

Hugo loving dog

As we made our way here to Cazorla the red dirt plains turned to huge dammed valleys then grubby pink and clay-coloured mountains until finally we reached the vast olive groves of this area. At our lunch spot ‘Don Chema’ in town we were told the olive oil here is the best in Spain.

Olives as far as we can see

A view from a window

We decided to try the local food today so we found the aforementioned restaurant and ordered the menu del dia for 20 euros each. A selection of cured meats followed by partridge and sirloin for his fluffiness and pimientos and huevos for me. To say the owners of the restaurant were keen hunters is probably an understatement going by the photos of them showing off their dead prey adorning the walls, along with the odd deer skull and taxidermied head dotted around. It was all a bit weird but I suppose they are at least eating what they shoot. 

Adornments of death

It’s currently 23 degrees as we look out across the valley of olives. Tomorrow we head across to Ubeda, a World Heritage site. Looking forward to seeing what it’s about.

A Mañana.

Hot Orange Action

Sometimes life in a motorhome in Spain is drab. Due to the fluffy one still suffering from the flu it has been hard to travel far so we spent a couple of days by the beach in Porto Grau - nice - then one day on a patch of dirt in Moncofa surrounded by derelict buildings that presumably succumbed to the crash of 2008 - not so nice.

Hmm, orange flavoured wee...nice

Juicy orange balls

With a mini spring in his step after his chill out period we were able to drive a bit further and surround ourselves with orange groves in the hinterland south of Valencia. Our nimble fingers were drawn to the vibrant fruit and several juicy balls were plucked for our own oral excitement. Naughty as it seems to steal fruit from poor landowners, a lot of the fruit had dropped, unpicked, on to the ground and was rotting where it fell so we were just saving it from an unpleasant destiny. Let me say that there are few things quite as satisfying as chomping on a freshly picked sweet ripe orange/mandarine.

Great colour

In Simat de la Valldigna we found the last remaining mosque of the Arab era in Valencia tucked away in the groves. The monastery had closed for the year on the day we arrived so we could not go in and check it out but got some shots of the exterior.

Monastery walls

Mosque now a hermitage chapel

Currently we are in Paraiso Aire in Calpe. We like to drop in here for seafood by the harbour and, hoorah, to get some washing done. My towels are, once again, fragrant and soft, just as they should be.
Tomorrow we head back inland. The weather has taken a turn for the cloudy and cold so we seek the sun.

Poos, Flus and Views

Note to self, when Hugo has a small poo dangling precariously from his bottom, do NOT get the fluffy one to remove it. Normally when this happens, with great ease I thrust my delicate hand into a poo bag and, with a nimble three fingered pinch, I can easily pluck the offending article from his furry bottom. Mr Fluffy, however, managed to smear a particularly pert poo all over Hugo’s nether regions and it took almost half a pack of wet wipes to get him clean. Nightmare. You’ll be pleased to note there is no photo of this event.

A clean-bottomed Hugo

On a lighter note, Mr Fluffy has managed to still have man flu and is currently lying down on the sofa looking pale, coughing and blowing his nose. Have bought lemons and bee propolis as the supermarkets don’t sell paracetamol. Of course the pharmacies are now closed for the weekend.

Morella - medieval hill fort 

But to our trip over the last few days - After some time spent in Deltebre on the coast above Valencia, followed by a night on a mountain in Morella, we are now back at the beach near Castellon. I will have something to occupy myself with while he sleeps.

Deltebre twinkling river

Stunning light - no filters

This free Aire is a 1 minute walk from the beach, 5 mins into town and, joy of joys, has WiFi so I can watch the Strictly Final tonight. I know, I’m sad. The views from our locations have been rather stunning - a wide twinkling river, a medieval hilltop castle, and now a sports ground - oh well, you can’t win them all.

Not bad

I think we’ll stay here for a couple of days so the fluffy one can recuperate.

From Fun to Flu

Castelldefels by quiet night

Castelldefels has a hint of the Queensland Gold Coast about it which is why I think I liked it so much. Stunning expanse of sandy beach, fabulous restaurants and cafes, and a hop, skip and a jump from Barcelona - oh, wait - maybe not that last one.

Paella anyone?

It was fun to hang out with the fluffy one’s nieces and nephew - and of course the accompanying husband and children. The best part was being able to park along the beach front and eat gorgeous seafood. The worst part was the Saturday night revellers outside our van tooting and arguing between 2 and 4 in the morning. Oh well, can’t have everything.

Giant chairs R Us

The fluffy one has had little/no interaction with children so I was alarmed when I saw him accept the olive his 4 year old great nephew handed him and place it in his mouth. The child had been rolling it around in his boogie-covered hand and, sweet as it was to be offered this delicacy, there’s is no way on earth it would have come anywhere near my face let alone end up in my mouth. Needless to say, two days later the fluffy one awoke with a severe case of man flu. He won’t be accepting boogie encrusted olives from well-meaning youngsters again.
He has soldiered on and drove to a winery in the mountains, Celler Masroig, which allows motorhome to stay. He slept after arrival as I stocked up on wine, olives (clean ones) and tapenade from the cellar shop. I had to resort to wine from the box last night as he wasn’t up for much more than a whisky and lemon juice so I’ve saved the posh stuff for when we can both share a glass.

View from the winery

Today we’ve ended up by the river in Deltebre, the rice field area south of Tarragona. The wind is coming up and it’s a little rainy so we’re tucked up in Dickie, Mr Fluffy feeling sorry for himself with his man flu and me playing mindless games of Candy Crush on the iPad. I think I’ll get out the jigsaw.
Tomorrow, who knows.

Freak Out Flamenco

As we sit at the beach south of Barcelona the temperature is around 17 degrees. The locals are walking past in their puffer jackets and scarves while I am sporting a boob tube and hot pants and Mr Fluffy is showing off his budgie smugglers and magnificent chest. Not really but you get the picture.

‘What’s that Hugo? No more singing???’

Our tally of how many Paellas one can eat on a holiday in Spain is swiftly reaching double figures as we had the best one yet at Chinguito Manolo at the Port of Ginestra in Sitges. There’s nothing better than sitting in the sun eating seafood and drinking cold beer, that is until the amplified Spanish guitarist and accompanying flamenco singer start playing and Hugo has a fit of shivering terror. We had to leave before he turned himself inside out with fear. Party pooper! They were actually very good despite the fact that she sounded like she was having her heart ripped out with the sorrow of a lost love.

Hugo quite keen on this meaty market

Bread the old fashioned way

Yesterday we had a taste of the medieval winter market in Castelldefels and checked out the fluffy one’s niece’s new bar. Sonia opened ‘Kohsi’ four months ago in the town centre. The garden out the back is particularly fabulous in this sunny weather. We’ll meet Sonia and her brother Berend and sister Monique tomorrow night at Sonia’s other bar ’Takua’ which is closer to the beach.
We can only hope there won’t be a flamenco singer to freak Hugo out again.

Bonkers Church Visit

If you’re ever in the mood for checking out some bonkers architecture pop along to the Gaudi church/crypt in Santa Coloma de Cervello. It’s marked as a hidden Gaudi gem and it’s certainly different. The stained glass windows throw vibrant colours onto the cacophony of different styles of religiosity within - and there’s even a stone henge type structure on the roof. Quite bizarre but interesting nonetheless. There’s a Black Madonna on one altar and a rather over the top collection of deities on another. Here are a few photos to show you what it’s like.

Vibrant windows

Holy family

Black Madonna and friend

Pink prettiness

Swirly ceiling

Giant hand basin

Up on a roof