First day in Portugal

 Monday 2 April 2018 - Day 29

Nido’s parked up in the aire in the village of Castro Marim - we’re in Portugal.  Today was mainly a transit day, a 3.5 hour drive, by-passing the metropolis of Seville and into our next country. Portugal’s on the same time as UK, so we had to put our clocks back one hour and consequently it’s darker earlier tonight.

Castro Marim’s a small village, not far from the border and a few miles inland from the sea.  It’s a nice place to walk around with some interesting little houses, some with tiled frontages that open direct onto the road and others with long gardens behind.  We found one little house that we saw up for a sale a few years ago on ‘Place in the Sun’ - looks like it’s had some improvements since then.  There’s a couple of castles and we had a walk around one of them (entrance fee is €1.10).  There’s not a great deal to see inside and little renovation or preservation has been done.  There was an interesting display of torture methods, including the spiked chair shown in the picture below - that’d make your eyes water!

So not much to report today after a long, hot drive.  We’re fed and watered and I think it’ll be a read and an early night, ready to start exploring more tomorrow.

Looking down on the aire

The little house and garden on 'Place in the Sun'

Ouch!

Salt pans

In need of some TLC

Hearts of Oak have our Ships...

Sunday 1 April 2018 - Day 28

Nido’s parked up in an aire at Sanlucar de Barrameda. It feels more like a rustic campsite, with grass pitches, toilets, showers and washing machines.  And we have electric hook up and WIFI, plus unlimited fresh water and somewhere to empty the loo!  For those of you sat at home who’ve not spent time in a campervan, you might think I’m a being a bit giddy.  Well I am, although the gin might be helping!  We’ve been relying on our leisure battery, solar power for a couple of weeks.  When we’re wild camping, fresh water and power is a precious commodity, not to be taken for granted or wasted.  Lights and pumps are only switched on for as long as needed.  For the loo, we have a spray bottle with a mix of flush fluid and water to save precious fresh water (isn’t it weird that we waste perfectly good drinking water to flush our loos at home). Grey water (washing up and showers) is used to rinse out the loo cassette (or even my coffee pot!).  So we’re a bit giggly about being able to flush the loo and leave lights on for more than a few minutes. It’s a nice little aire and the manager - Alfonso - is charming and helpful.  It’s down a dead end road to the sea, although the beach is a bit industrial, with the brown wash associated with a large estuary.  It’s relatively quiet, although we did have several dogs barking and even a peacock calling. 

This aire wasn’t our first choice.  On the way out we stopped off at Conil de la Frontera (by a noisy road and a smelly river) and Sancti Pentril La Barrosa (nothing much but sand and mud) and then moved on towards an aire at El Puerto De Santa Maria. I’d booked us into a campsite for 3 nights in this town, with the intention of taking the ferry to explore the old town of Cadiz for some sherry and tapas, plus some beach time and cycling.  The campsite was close to the beach but driving through the metropolis left us cold (if you’ve followed us for a while you’ll know we’re severely allergic to any form of busy town or city).  So it was another change of plan (and an email to cancel the campsite booking) and a push on to our current spot.  We ended up here, with a loose plan to make a long run to Portugal tomorrow, although if we find somewhere to wild camp in the Huelva wetlands on the way past Seville, we will do.  On a similar note, we saw our first flamingoes today!  They were in the wetlands (rice paddy fields?) to the north of Cadiz.  Cathy loves flamingoes so it was unfortunate we were on the motorway with no opportunity to pull over and watch them.

Back to first thing today.  We slept well at last night’s lovely stopover. I was up at 0900 and wandered into the town for some bread; it really was like some of the lovelier coastal parts of France - back two or three streets from the main drag were small shops, bakeries and cafes, vying with the (closed) posh clothes and ’trinkets’ (ornaments) shops.  I bought some freshly baked (still very warm) bread and rolls  from a panaderia, then stopped off at a small shop for some eggs and olive oil.  Back at the van, we had what is known in the Royal Navy as a ‘Lazy Sunday Routine’ - no ‘Call the Hands’ (alarm clock) and brunch - in our case fried eggs and fresh rolls and a pot of tea (C) and coffee (me).  The gas was on for hot water and we enjoyed our showers, drying off the towels in the warm sea breeze.  Zahara de los Atunes is a lovely town and one we’ll revisit if we return to this part of Spain; the Costa de la Luz is definitely our favourite area so far, although we’re really looking forward to exploring north-west Spain.  

Moving on, our next stop was Los Canos de Meca.  This was once a hippie hideaway, straggling along a series of sandy coves beneath a pine-clad hill 12km west of Barbate (where I went to empty our loo but refused to pay €3 for the privilege!). It’s a very laid back place and another mecca for the kite surfing community - we parked amongst the ‘dudes’ with their wet-suits, dreads and beards, in their self-converted vans.  We feel much more comfortable around them.  But I wanted to come here for another reason….

…at the western edge of the village a side-road leads out to a lighthouse on a low spit of land with a famous name:  Cabo de Trafalgar.  Off here, Spanish naval power was decimated in a few hours on 21 October 1805 by a Royal Navy fleet under the command of Admiral Lord Horatio Nelson.  He - and many hundreds of his shipmates - paid the ultimate price on that historic day.  As I walked along the beach, now full of kite surfers, I imagined the flotsam and jetsam being washed up onto these shores.  What did the locals do with the bodies of the battle-damaged or drowned sailors? Did they give them  a good Christian burial, or empty their pockets, strip them and push them back out to sea - life was hard then.  I soaked up the view and atmosphere as I walked along the beach towards the Cape.  Once at the point, overlooking this evocative area of the sea battle, I found myself heartily singing “Hearts of Oak”.  Standing to attention and a salute, I just stood and looked out to sea…so much history.  I’d sailed to the Battle of Trafalgar area before.  In 1981, on our way to Gibraltar in HMS BRILLIANT, Captain Coward ordered the ship to stop over the exact spot where the battle took place.  He led a ceremony of remembrance and a wreath was laid.  I’ve spoken to others who were onboard and they remember Captain Coward had a bottle of Port that was carried in one of the Ships of the Line that fought on that day and everyone had ‘sippers’.  I don’t remember the Port but have no reason to doubt my shipmates.  Walking back, we stopped off and enjoyed a delicious vegan lunch in a small ‘hippy’ enclave.  We also bought some organic cakes, some of which we enjoyed with a brew back at the van (and we still have some left over for tomorrow).

So today has been a personal high - visiting the area where the great Battle of Trafalgar took place.  Now, as we charge up ‘All the Things’ on our precious electric hook-up, we’re looking forward to moving into another country tomorrow (if we get that far), although putting our clocks back one hour (to match UK time) isn’t so great - we’ve become accustomed to late evening sunshine.

PS - today marks one month on the road. We’ve come a long way in 28 days and are looking forward to the next two months of this epic trip.  We’re loving our gap life!

Breakfast view

They don't like it up em Admiral Nelson!

Did they sit in these buildings and watch the Royal Navy create havoc!?

Absolutely delicious

Enjoying the light on the Costa De La Luz

Saturday 31 March 2018 - Day 27

There wasn’t much to write about yesterday as it rained mostly, so it was mainly an ‘in van’ day, spent tidying up.  We did manage a walk into town later, ducking under cover to avoid the heavy showers and buying some bread and another couple of delicious cakes!  The wind was up again in the night, the gusts shaking the van and this kept us awake into the early hours, when it suddenly dropped and allowed me to get some sleep (but not Cathy unfortunately).  

The day dawned still and sunny and we left Tarifa, heading west.  On the Campercontact app on my phone, I noticed a garage in town that had a motorhome service point, plus it appeared on the MyLPG app.  I filled up with LPG - 10 litres used in 12 days. The nozzle clearly didn’t connect well to the Spanish adaptor as when I when to unhook it after filling, there was a long streak of frozen gas down the side of the van.  With the loo emptied and tank brimming with fresh water, I thought I’d give the van a wash, as he’s looking decidedly grubby after almost a month on the road.  However, the hot soapy wash and cold rinse via the pressure hose (used at distance as they’re not good for campervan windows and fridge grilles) did little to remove the grime, so that was a couple of Euros wasted - lesson learned.

I’d dialled in the coordinates for an aire at Barbate up the coast, but on the way we noticed some lovely looking resorts along the way, so turned off to explore one of them - Zahara de los Atunes on the Costa de la Luz - which is were Nido’s parked up now, wild camping on the car park behind the dunes and beach.  Plonked in the middle of nothing except a broad 12km white sandy beach, this village is low-key and quiet at the moment, although it’s a fashionable resort with some great looking restaurants and beach bars that spring up in the summer, when the mainly Spanish holidaymakers arrive.  We had a good long walk on the beach, enjoying watching the wild Atlantic waves, great for the surfers out there but a bit too wild for swimming, although the water didn’t feel too cold.  After a lazy lunch we took our chairs and kindles back to the beach and spent the afternoon reading, walking and just chilling out.  This village reminds me a lot of some of the quieter, chic resorts in France, particularly along the Cotentin Peninsular in Normandy or the hamlets of Isle de Re.  Cathy cooked a delicious risotto, using some of the wild herbs we picked and the last of the scrumped lemons, the peel of which also made its way into her G&T - she’s enjoying the duty free litre of Tanqueray we bought in Gib!  It’s now 2030 and the sun is still shining over the dunes; I can see the outline of the wooden lifeguard tower silhouetted against the deepening sky.  This part of Spain certainly lives up to it name as the Coast of Light. It feels warm through the van windows, but the breeze is cool as I sit on the van step and brush the sand and shell fragments from my feet.  Between us and the dunes is a band of greenery, left alone due to the wooden boardwalks that take us to the beach. The skylarks must nest there as I can still hear them in the sky and it’s also full of insects, which the low-swooping swallows are enjoying.  It should be quiet tonight and, with just a gentle breeze now, I hope we’ll catch up on some sleep.

Dunes and wooden lifeguard tower

The Coast of Light 

Blogging with a view

Down with the Surfing Dudes in Tarifa

Thursday 29 March 2018 - Day 25

Nido’s surrounded by his mates and he likes it (as do we) - lots of panel vans, selfies (self-conversions) and vintage classic camper vans.  We’re in an aire in the town of Tarifa, the kite surfing capital of Spain, the equivalent of Cornwall’s Fistral Beach.  I had the co-ordinates for a wild camping spot by the beach a few miles west of Tarifa, but on the way through we left the main road to have a drive through the town.  Over the past 15 years Tarifa’s become a bit of a surfing/hippie magnet; it’s very laid back, with some great graffiti along the seafront and some cool beach bars and hippie shops.  We found this aire by accident; it doesn’t appear in any of our aires books or apps. There were plenty of spaces when we arrived but now (2130) it’s absolutely rammed, with vans still coming in and looking for a space.  With it being the night before Good Friday, and with Easter being such a big deal in Spain, everyone’s looking for somewhere to spend the long weekend and party.

After parking up we had a walk along the promenade and beach.  At that time there were only a few kite surfers out.  We had a paddle - the Atlantic was surprisingly warm.  We then noticed lots (and lots) of Portuguese Man o War washed up on the beach.  These are relatively small in size, with a large inflated sail (with which they use the wind to travel over the sea) and they have long, deep-blue tentacles.  Despite being small, you really don’t want to mess with them - they have an enormously painful sting for their size, so we steered well clear. We popped back to the van for a sandwich and a brew, then took a walk into town.  With it being the first day of a long and important holiday weekend, the tapas bars and restaurants were buzzing.  Not much is written about Tarifa, but it has an old town with lots of narrow streets and an ‘island’ with a fortress, joined with the mainland by a narrow strip of road which no doubt takes a battering in the Atlantic storms.  We felt like a bite to eat so stopped for some falafel and croquetas, with a beer. Onwards we bought some bread from a small shop and I queued (or jostled) in a very popular pasteleria that was selling the most elaborate and wonderful looking cakes - I think these are part of the Easter celebrations.  I bought a few small pieces of baklava.  

We dropped our purchases off at the van and returned to wander down the beach as, by now, hundreds were out kite surfing.  It was a great spectacle, although the wind of course whipped up the fine white sand - not so great.  But everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves out on the water.  Back in Nido, we sat inside in the warm, with a pot of tea (Cathy) and coffee (me) and our cakes.  The rest of the evening was spent people and van watching, in particular seeing the vans enter and circle around looking for a space, trying to guess where they’d try to squeeze in.  They’re now starting to double park and, although I think we’ll be able to squeeze out in our small van, some of our larger and much longer neighbours certainly won’t be able to - tomorrow could be entertaining if they want to leave early!  We’re planning to stay another night as I think there’s a Good Friday procession through the town and we may wander down to take a look, although if it’s too crowded (or they do that thing of throwing around very loud fireworks) we may stay local to the van or move on.  The forecast for tomorrow is for heavy rain, so we may need to stay another night just to get out of what is just a square of land comprised of what is (currently) dried out mud!

A very busy aire, even with no facilities

These little critters really pack a punch

Great graffiti along the promenade

Memories

Wednesday 28 March 2018 - Day 24

Exercise SPRINGTRAIN 82

Cannon shell damage after 21 May attacks

We slept well at the high aire before descending through some lovely green countryside and small villages before reaching the main road.  The drive into La Lina was through a fairly run-down part of town, before we turned off to park in the marina, with a view of Gibraltar behind us and some very sleek floating gin palaces in front.  It was a hot, still day. Cathy spent a couple of hours in getting the washing done and dried (or semi-dried) in the marina laundry,  The dryer was rubbish so Nido ended up looking like Widow Twanky’s parlour, with washing hanging from every available space.  We took a walk into town, showing our passports at the border into Gib and walking across the runway.  Gib has changed beyond all recognition, with land being reclaimed from the sea and then built upon - lots of high rise apartments and office buildings, occupied by online gambling companies trying to avoid UK tax and others providing offshore financial and legal services.  It’s a really busy, noisy, over-populated place, but it still has a sentimental hold on us.  Cathy lived here for short periods when her sister’s husband was in the RAF out here.  During my time in the Royal Navy, Gib was pivotal in some important aspects of my life.  It was my first ever foreign ‘run ashore’ at the tender age of 17 and later that year I celebrated my 18th birthday here, starting at 0600 with the Rock Race - a running race to the top of the Rock starting at the Clock Tower in the Naval Dockyard - and finishing very messily in Loopy’s Bar (which is long gone).  I also sailed from here to the Falklands War (more of that below) and spent several months in and out of Gib when the Logistics Officer in HMS WESTMINSTER in 2003, then we protected shipping passing through the Strait of Gibraltar on the way to support Gulf War 2. So despite its tackiness, Gib holds a special place in our heart. We had a wander down main street, stopping for a beer at The Horseshoe pub (affectionally known in ‘jack speak’ as ’The Donkey’s Flip Flop’) before eating at one of the restaurants in Casemates Square.  We did some grocery shopping on the way back to the van, ready to move on tomorrow - Gibraltar done. 

Exactly 36 years ago, I sailed from Gibraltar in HMS BRILLIANT.  On this day 36 years ago, as we enjoyed the pubs and bars in town, our Commanding Officer - Captain John Coward - was summoned to the Admiral’s Office. He was informed that intelligence had been received that the Argentinians were planning to invade the Falkland Islands.  He was tasked to sail as soon as possible and make all speed to the Ascension Island in the south Atlantic and to wait until a Royal Fleet Auxiliary (RFA) to catch up to supply us with fuel, food and ammunition.  We now know a Swiftsure Class submarine had just left Gibraltar and was already on its way.  A shore patrol from the shore base - HMS ROOKE - was sent around all the bars and clubs…”Are you off the BRILLIANT?” “In that case get your arses back onboard, you’re under sailing orders.”  We just thought this was part of the Exercise SPRINGTRAIN we’d just completed, or perhaps it was punishment for the trouble caused in town by some of our more ‘boisterous’ shipmates!  It was only later on the 29th, after quietly sailing (having first taken part in the Rock Race) and when we were well at sea and steaming south, did the CO come on the main broadcast and tell us what was happening.  This made us the first warship to sail to the Falklands War, the first to spend more than 100 days continuously at sea since WW2, the first to fire missiles in anger.  The rest is history.

It’s been a day of memories. Stood at the bar of the Donkey’s Flip Flop today, looking at all the RN caps, badges and crests, brought it all back.  The subsequent weeks and months changed my life forever and still now I think of those I drank with in Gib over those few days in late March 1982, who never returned and forever remain on patrol.  RIP Shipmates.

The Donkey's Flip Flop - it's not changed much in 26 years!