Friction Burn Friday.

Ok, so it's taken us a while to leave Spain. We've chugged and struggled, checked water and leant forward uphill.

On Friday we knew the day had dawned. It was Adiós Espana, Bonjour La France! We set off, it promised to be a hot day and we had kilometres to travel.  We decided to use the motorway,  on account of the fact that we needed to get to a friend's.

We thought we'd stop of close to the border and buy some goodies. Lady R picked out La Jonquera, a mere six kms from France. As we pulled off the motorway we noticed the temperature gauge wobble over 90. Uh oh, danger territory. Yeah,  you guessed it... We conked.

In the heat and with the stress of it we did what we knew best. I went shopping. Lady R made lunch. We ate morosely, shame as lunch was her delicious pear and roquefort salad.

If you remember it was only last Friday that Fif lost the will to live,  had she decided on a regular weekly strike??

Using my rudimentary Spanish (in which now I am almost fluent in mechanical terms) I approached the cops and asked for help. Was there a mechanico aqui? Turns out there was. Off we trundled. In pigeon Spanish with his pigeon English we 'discussed' the problema. Joe was very helpful. The Lady R, in her friendly way, interrogated him. Turns out (halle-bloody-luiah) that Joe is from Morrocco. He speaks French!  Hoorah. Two hours and €90 later and we know this:

The pipe which mechanic no1 had told us to keep an eye on, had been further degraded due to expansion caused by hot water whizzing through it and subsequent rubbing on neighbouring pipe.

Bloody friction Burns.

Once sorted we were off! Again! Hit France. And phew.

Carcaixent to Cunit.

Time is flying! We are wondering where the days are going.

After Ruidera we continued to head north. The Lady R had cleverly found a document online which she downloaded to laptop,  it listed aires in Spain. The great thing about France, Spain and Portugal is that there are many free places to park your camper, also there are free places to offload your toilet waste and grey water. In Portugal many of the supermarkets had camper van spaces and facilities,  all free.

The Lady R looked on the aires document she found 'tucked up amongst the orange groves' Carcaixent. It sounded idyllic,  we agreed to head over there.

Two hours later and we were squeezing through high sided walls on a narrow road which was flanked by orange groves.

I was quite nervous driving but we continued and reached the top. There,  on a hillside, looking out over green orange trees on red soil. It was beautiful, perfect. The campsite was huge and (dedicated by the mayor) seemingly newly maintained.

There was an swimming pool,  which we couldn't use,  a bbq area, which we couldn't use and a toilet which (the morning after) we couldn't use!  Such a shame. Not allowed to put chairs and tables out or to let your dog off the lead it was like a show home, come and admire but please be careful where you sit.. We were surprised to be the only customers until 3 am when all three of us were lying awake in the airless hell that was a Carcaixent night,  it was just too damn hot. Too hot and windless.  We sat up, we chatted, by 4.30 the temperature had dropped, we slept a little, we moved on. Poor Carcaixent, beautiful oranges, delightful landscape,  insufferable August nights.

We decided to head back along the coast. Well, we were near the coast and going up. A few more hours driving and we did one of our 'pot luck' specials ie, find the coastal road and drove along it. Now,  this has resulted in some amazing finds and some near catastrophes, so we were slightly trepidatious and slightly confident in turns.

We had lunch on the beach en route,  I siesta'd, Becky sought shells,  Betty dug a hole next to me and covered me in sand.

Then, in the evening, we found Cunit. Oh, oh, oh, the parking. Right next to the beach,  airy and breezy. Bliss! Ok, so there may have been some 2am cleaning and a high speed rail link just behind us but boy, did we sleep well.

When we arrived we went for a promenade along the promenade. Had a frozen yoghurt

Then spent the evening watching the world go by.

Cunit, we love you.
In the morning I took Betty for a walk. Found some graffiti, on the walkway entrance into the town. In large, red letters someone had thought to scrawl the word 'pussy'. Product of an immature mind or a word play genius? I'll leave it to you to decide. I did consider taking a photograph, but I would have felt like a proper...
plonker.

Ruidera's Ramon.

Top tip:

If you come to Ruidera go to the Perca Rosa restaurant, on the lakeside (good parking) and see Ramon who runs the pedalos. He doesn't speak English but he can interpret really bad Spanish and he is really, really helpful. Will tell you where to walk (waterfall, look out point) and information about the locality. Also helped us by making phone bookings for horse riding and organising bits- great when you can't speak Spanish on the phone.

Here Ramon models bread.

 And this was breakfast. Typically Spanish, toast with olive oil and tomato salsa y café con leche.

Ruidera.

So, rolled up in Ruidera Monday pm. We chose it accidentally by aiming for a patch of water which was on our route. Travelling gets hot and Betty needs a swim to cool her down,  so we often try to aim to park up by water.

Ruidera, as it turns out, it's a hidden jewel. in Spain's crown. It's small, unspoilt, friendly and a holiday destination for Spanish people.

When we arrived we found that the lake next to which we had decided to park has a river area sort of running through it, or at least it is a source of water for a river (technical geographical term?). Consequently,  the lake has a 'beach' area, complete with life guard, and a 'rio' area, which had two mini waterfalls and some deeper pool areas caused by the pressure of the water digging into the rocks. It's just lovely.

The first day we arrived we went for a swim and took Betty too (dogs not allowed on beach but ok in river). The second day we managed to cram in more activity than we have in the whole of the rest of the holiday, day went like this:

Get up, swim, walk, breakfast, pedalo, swim, lunch, siesta (me), swim (Lady R), walk, horse riding, swim, bed.

And the photos:

 Falling asleep on the table after a long swim.

 Pedalo!

 Swimming from the pedalo - Ruidera's answer to the biathlon.

Lunch (starters): bacon, egg and sausage in a non-breakfast combo / salt cod, potatoes and nuts in an non-anything combo.

Menu featuring 'Gachas manchegas', for which the Internet provided the interesting translation of 'porridge stain'. Am sure it was much more appetising than its name implies, although neither of us were keen to try, funnily enough..

El caballo.

They allocated our caballos with an unexpected accuracy. Mine was uber-enthusiastic to the extreme of being pushy..walking with its nose up the bum of the one in front (not that I ever do that, you understand), whilst the Lady R's couldn't really see the point of all the exercise and decided to spend as much time in stillness as he was able. Consequently we were met by the alternating instructions:

'hold her back'

'give him a kick, get him moving'

Ruidera's river area. When the water is blue the stone is eroded and there is a little pool. 

Tomorrow we move on. Refreshed, happy and heading towards France. Yipeeeeeee

Lecrin

This is the view today:

By a lake in Ruidera. 

Its beautiful, but before I tell you the story of Ruidera I need to tell you the story of Lecrin.

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin...

OK, so Fifi is one of those girls who gets herself hot under the collar,  if you know what I mean, easily a chick to start her own boil in the bag party. After an hour's climb Fif is gasping for water and complaining about the weather. IF (take note Kim) you want a camper van then it may be better to invest in a cool chick who isn't at that ' time of life' when she's prone to flushes. 

So Fifi flushed, one bright, sunny morning an hour from Nerha and decided she wasn't going any further. 

Fifi was kaput.

Issue: 10am, Saturday morning. Day of 'fiesta'. Fifi dies.

Solution: wait til Mon am when garage opens and seek help. 

End result: following advice from Mission Control (i.o.us currently recinded) we tried to 'top up the water but don't overfill her, blondies' and set off. 2kms down the road we realised the problem was serious and headed back to Lecrin.

D' you ever get deja vu?

D' you ever get deja vu?

Our experience was like Groundhog Day. We arrived, we left, we cranked up, we drove round, we left, we came back, we went to the garage, finally (oh, finally) we left.

These were Fifi's problemas:

1. The cap on the plastic water overfill tank was cracked.

2. There was a stopper missing from a 'muy importante' place.

3. The fans were not working properly.

4. There was a leak from one of the pipes,  due to the ratchet metal closing circular thingy.

The mechanic:

1. Fixed everything.

2. Was very kind in explaining all the things which were wrong with Fif and how he had fixed. 

3. Gave us advice for daily driving. 

4. Worked for three hours 

5. Charged us €30, including parts.

Move over Mission Control, we have a new Best Man. He was an absolute star. One bottle of wine and four kisses later we left, happy Fifi, happy girls.

Drove for three hours and arrived in Ruidera. 

A natural lake with natural waterfalls and an unnatural, but lovely, restaurant. Decided to stay two nights.

Spending time.

Anyone who knows me will be aware of my almost complete inability to sit still.

Whilst being here it's been lovely, but sitting by the pool can be a bit boring so..I did some gardening. Very pleased with my efforts so here's the brag:

Before.

After.

Who'd have thought it?

Went out to check Fifi. Found this:

The response of Mission Control:
'I presume a scrap metal dealer?'

Nerha and Frigiliana.

We arrived at my friend's place on a Saturday afternoon, two hot, sweaty women without clean clothes. The joys we discovered were numerous, oh the shower, oh the washing machine, oh the pool, oh the freezer with its ice. We were in heaven!!

The first night (after washing ourselves, our clothes and all our belongings) we dressed and went to Nerha to do the tapas trail. It goes like this: wander, wander, stop, drink and eat. It was divine..the best were the pigs cheeks, rich, melt in the mouth meat with delicious gravy served with waxy potatoes, roasted asparagus wrapped in salty roasted ham and bread. Oooohhhhh, I can't tell you how good it was.

Nerha is lovely. Plenty of little shops and things to see along the twisted streets.

That's by the coast. Halfway up the mountain is Frigiliana, an even cuter village/town. Settled by the Moors a thousand or so years ago it was populated because the soil there was nutritious and stuff grew. (Later news has the Moors exiting in 1492 due to persecution, nice to see the world has moved on, eh?) The old town in Frigiliana is the best, discovered on a Tuesday afternoon in 2015 by Lady R of the van. I was dragged up the hill at a later date to share the wonders - and try the sangria.

Pretty Frigiliana

Nearly got decapitated, whilst drinking vino, by an aeroplane

Something to aspire to: being an old woman who can still sit on a bench with her mates and have a giggle

Put in a euro and hear the history. Great fun!

 Famous fountain.

Frigiliana by night.

Rock n Roll

The story so far: three in van heading to Malaga, where I know someone who has a house, decide to detour via Gibraltar where there is a rock. 

Prior to that and after Foz do A we had a couple of days trekking across the Spanish countryside I'll be honest, they weren't the best days we'd had...you know those days when everything just seems to go wrong?  So henceforth we shall call them 'days of darkness' and gloss over that part of the trip.

Gibraltar: I won't bore you with the history, mostly because I don't know it but also because you can discover it yourself ont tinternet. In fact, the time it would take you to Google 'Gibraltar' and read a hefty paragraph is approximately the amount of time we spent on our entire visit. Here's how it went:

1. Followed sat nav to Gibraltar.

2. Drove through passport control and customs 'do you have any animals to declare?'

3. Followed the reduced version of the M25* round Gibraltar town. 

4. Couldn't find Morrison's - three hours free parking, we were advised - despite directions.

5. Drove off and out.

Actually, it was the Lady R who kindly took pity on me,  under the onslaught of mopeds, bikes, taxis, small vehicles and lack of space she said, 'if you want to leave, let's just go, it's chaos'. So we did. We're applying to the Guinness Book of Records for the quickest ever visit to Gibraltar by two women and a dog in a camper van. We're bound to nail it. 

We were hot, we were sweaty,  we'd had enough so we drove along the coast for five minutes and came to La Linea. Parked up and swam in the sea. Bliss. 

In fairness to Gibraltar, she was a place of interest. Take one really big rock put it on a flat bit next to the coast. Build as much as you can fit in the flat bit. Add an M & S, a Natwest Bank and some tapas, throw in 'afternoon tea' signs. Find a couple of bobbies and get them to wear the high, tall hats like beat officers do in London, but with short sleeves, give them an old fashioned truncheon (no use for getaway vehicles here, you'll be running). Make the entrance look like Heathrow and put some posh boats in the water. Ensure the Spanish sun is beating down. Da daaaaaa, you just made Gibraltar.

We found a place to park (which was great until 2am-4am when the disco was in full swing) and made full use of the beach. Now, when you travel with a Betty you have to be aware that you are not really allowed on the beach, so you have to be sensitive about where you go. We decided to walk right to the end of the sand and swim next to Gibraltar. It was perfect, no one minded, no one bothered us. We all chilled, perfect. As B and I swam and the Lady R collected shells we noticed a puzzling phenomenon...people, either alone or in little groups, would walk past us, right to the end of the beach, they would wade out to chest level where the barbed-wire topped wall separated Spain from the land of British sovereignty and they would peep around the corner. How bizarre. 

We watched and puzzled as they pointed, examined, exclaimed, discussed and evaluated. Were they trying to break in? We asked ourselves. Actually, it was the Lady R who solved the mystery (give her a pipe n call her Sherlock) they were looking at the airport.

Having had a thoroughly lovely afternoon, we finished it off with fishy tea and cocktails. Perfect. 

A rock

A cock-tail

 A rockery

A menu

 A view

A viewer

Diggin!

Sunrise view from my bed

*complete with traffic jam

Foz do Arhla to Logos De Santo Andre.

Woke up in Foz do Arhla yesterday am. Not such a great night's kip. Diggers worked through the night (Portugal's on a mission),  Betty was scratching which shakes the whole van and the Lady R awoke at 3am convinced that the dog was on her bed. ' Get down Betty, good girl' was the gentle admonishment. I looked down, to the sofa beneath my bed where Betty sleeps. There was hound, in allotted place. Whilst the Lady R sweetly tried to persuade B to remove herself Betty looked up at me in consternation.  We shared a moment.

Eventually it emerged that the 'dog' was actually a bag. Not sure what had been mistaken for the wagging tail but we all went back to sleep.

Foz had a beautiful beach, free parking and showers. Loads of night life and lots of vans.  It was pretty good.

 It'll be alright on the site.

El toro.

Teriyaki salmon for tea.

Then we drove to Lisbon. It isn't much fun,  city driving. Because I'd been there before I had a long list of places to avoid: the centre,  the narrow old part,  anywhere with a tram, the beachfront. So..most of it.  Tried to get the sat nav to take us for some delicious Pastis De Belem (cakes) but it had obviously noticed the failure of the diet and offered post blank refusal. We stopped outside the beautiful Cascais for lunch before motoring south.

 We're sadly proud of our range of salad options. Yesterday's offering...

Leaving Lisbon.

We had an unfortunate incident involving getting stuck in a narrow street in the next place we hit, big fat panic. Sesimbra (DO NOT VISIT OF YOU HAVE A CAMPER VAN) was hilly and narrow and unyielding, but the Lady R kept her cool and we got out of dodge.

Headed for the coast further south and reached Logos De Santo Andre. Funny little place. Slightly sad and droopy, it has unused buildings which look as if it was created for holiday makers once upon a time. This is a great place to visit if you have a van because you can literally abandon it anywhere.  The beach is also fab. Negatives are the mozzies.

We took a walk on the beach last night.

 Post swim Betty.

 Sunset boat.

This morning I went out again. Last night the Lady R and I remarked upon the remarkable number of bins which lettered the beach. The peoples of Logos D.S.A. evidently are trying to combat the Portuguese problem.

 The bins of Logos De Santo Andre.

I did notice - as we walked - the stay of lovely fauna this particular area of Atlantic coast has to offer. Like any good anorak,  I photographed it to share.

Just noticed it's market day.  They are setting up as I type..hmm new addition to the salad range for lunch??