Oh, Happy Day

Saturday, 21st March

Our bags were packed and loaded into the car. Preparation for the journey had been made as well as we could. Enough food and drink for a family of four should get us through the two day journey. If we could get there. I’d even written out some key phrases in Spanish to explain where​ we were going and why in case we were stopped by the police. It still seemed like a good idea to allow an extra 4 hours for delays.

Leaving Jávea was so very different from previous years​, no fond farewells or see-you-next-time except by phone, the uncertainty palpable. So it was fitting that the day dawned dark and damp. Cloud obscured the mountains and misted the mostly deserted roads.

On the motorway the lorries were on the move, unsung heroes transporting the vital supplies to keep the country going. Signs over the road warned of checks on unnecessary journeys and we fretted about the rule only allowing one person in a car. The police presence was most evident at service stations where we stopped for comfort breaks (another worry allayed: would the toilet facilities be open?) They left us alone, though and gradually we gained in confidence. It must be obvious that a foreign vehicle, loaded to the gunnels and heading north must be leaving the country we reasoned.

The weather even reflected our growing optimism. Soon we were wearing sunglasses and opening windows. Hawks flew over the empty roads and seemingly deserted towns around Zaragoza By the time we reached the coast between Bilbao and Santander we found ourselves wanting to explore the many holiday resorts signposted as if these were normal times.

That they weren’t was reinforced when we reached the port. Staff and the many Guardia Civil were all wearing masks and gloves. At check-in we were instructed to read a notice informing us that we must remain in our cars until boarding and go immediately to the cabin where we must remain until instructed to return to our car on arrival.

Neil had received an email en route to inform us that the ferry would be an hour late departing and we now had five hours to wait before boarding. Visits to the toilet block were permitted but woe betide those tempted to linger to enjoy the sea view or exchange pleasantries. The Guardia were having none of it. Thankfully, they were more tolerant of stretching legs by the car or taking items out of the boot as long as we kept a distance of at least a meter from anyone else.

Boarding took much longer than usual to ensure no overcrowding on the garage decks or stairways and to allow for only two people in the lift at a time. It seemed to work better than usual, to be honest.

Thus we’ve made it onto the ferry and are underway. We’ve even been provided with complimentary cold snacks delivered to the cabin at meal times. So we now have enough food to feed a family of six.

A New Reality

How things have changed since our last blog. Suddenly, we all have to accept a new reality.

Back then, we had just left the boat and returned to the UK with lots of plans for further travel. We cruised down the Rhine, visited cities and countryside, went to theatres, art galleries and museums as well as doing a spot of house hunting. Neil returned to the boat to “put her to bed” before we headed off to Spain for our usual winter sojourn.

Daily life was a pleasant routine of socialising and relaxing, opportunities to explore and learn, share a meal, sample the local vino. It wasn’t all idyllic as we anxiously watched the flooding in the UK and a storm battered the seafront of Jàvea to such an extent we feared it would struggle to recover. The talk was of climate change along with the difficulties of becoming Third Nation citizens in the wake of Brexit. But life went on much as before here with seafront businesses rapidly refurbishing and reopening.

The news started to fill with reports from China of a new virus on the rampage, of its spread to neighbouring countries, the Middle East and Europe but the warnings seemed to be going largely unheard. We knew it had reached Madrid and surrounding areas, that odd cases were popping up closer. Then it was here.

The Chinese owners and staff of the many “Bazaars” were the first to pick up on what was happening, wearing masks and closing down. We all joked: “What do they know that we don’t?” We can’t kid ourselves that we didn’t know it was coming but it seemed far-fetched, somehow an overreaction.

So it still seemed sudden when the town council shut the bars and restaurants, shut all shops except for supermarkets and pharmacies and told everyone to stay at home. Still we didn’t quite get it. Then the whole of Spain was in lockdown. From midnight on Saturday, 14th March, we weren’t allowed to leave home except to buy food, fuel or medications, use cash machines or to attend to the needs of those too frail or vulnerable to care for themselves. Generally, only those in essential services were allowed to go out to work. The Guardia Civil were patrolling the streets to enforce the law.

The implications of all this started to dawn on everybody at the same time. We couldn’t go out for a walk even to areas unlikely to be populated. Shopping for food was not to be treated as leisure activity; only one person at a time was allowed in a car or walking along the street to reach the supermarket, when inside a distance of at least a meter had to be kept from staff or other customers. Of course, panic buying took over. The shops restocked​ overnight but were soon stripped to bare shelves again. Everything returned to being ready wrapped in plastic bags.

Our ferry booking home for the end of March was cancelled. The company was reducing sailings to ensure sufficient staff to operate them but we were offered another crossing a few days later. Then that too was cancelled. Neil spent over an hour on hold trying to rebook as a matter of urgency as everyone had the same realisation: if we didn’t get a ferry soon we would not be going home in the near future.

So now we wait as the situation changes daily, hourly even. The land borders are now closed and there are more ferry cancellations​. As things stand, ours is the last crossing to the UK. How long that will stay the case we just don’t know. We have a few days to pack up our belongings but it’s anybody’s guess if we’ll make it onto the ferry. Will the sea border remain open? Will we be allowed to travel eight hours to the north to reach the port? What then? 

 

Sunshine

I think it’s fair to say I haven’t really been myself this month. Returning to Spain was something I longed for and yet as we were driving into Jávea a couple of weeks ago I felt decidedly down. Neil has definitely borne the brunt of this; I know I have been even more irritable and intolerant than usual.

The time we’ve spent with friends, regular exercise, perhaps, and the general way of life here have all played their part in alleviating this feeling. But, the bright and breezy days we’ve mostly had since we got back are a tonic I wish could be prescribed on the NHS. As John Denver sang “sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy”( Video here ) To be able to lift my face up to the warmth and brightness in winter is a privilege. It doesn’t mean I’ve stopped nagging Neil, mind. 

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high

If I had a day that I could give you
I’d give to you the day just like today
If I had a song that I could sing for you
I’d sing a song to make you feel this way

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high

If I had a tale that I could tell you
I’d tell a tale sure to make you smile
If I had a wish that I could wish for you
I’d make a wish for sunshine for all the while

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high
Sunshine almost all the time makes me high

Words by John Denver, Music by John Denver, Dick Kniss and Mike Taylor

Bars, Bell Towers and Blisters

A week at home to draw breath and we were off again. The next part of our “Autumn of Doing Something Different” was all about exploring more of Spain as we headed to our home-from-home and usual winter stopover in Jávea – another road trip but in our own car. This took a fair bit of planning, too, juggling potential weather concerns and expectations of out of tourist season towns with places to stay, things to do and distance to travel. Spain is a big country. We finally settled on four places we had never been to before, some proving more successful than others.

A city soaked in history and a World Heritage Site, Salamanca (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salamanca) was a big hit and unsurprisingly the star of the show. Being the furthest north of our pick we had expected it to be cold in December, and we were right, but we were lucky to get two beautiful days of misty, early mornings brightening to perfect blue skies.

The two full days we had were never going to be enough to see everything but we gave it a good try. The blisters on the soles of my feet after the first day were testament to that. Cobbled, hilly streets combined with lots and lots of steps to see the views from old towers are best walked in sensible footwear. I learnt the hard way.

As glorious by night as by day, inevitably I took literally hundreds of pictures. Never fear, though, I’ve whittled them down a bit!  

There are not one but two cathedrals which can be visited on a combined ticket that also includes the bell tower with views of the interior of the church from a narrow ledge (gulp!) as well as over the rooftops of the city. 

Neil stands casually on another narrow ledge which got the better of any reassurance to me that it was quite safe. 

 

Probably the highlight of the city for me was the Casa Lis, a beautiful Modernist house which is now home to the Museum of Art Nouveau and Art Déco. You’re not allowed to take pictures inside so I’ve had to pinch one off the internet to demonstrate just how exquisite the exhibits​ are.

You can buy a combined ticket with the Museum of Automotive History which was more Neil’s thing. At least it was warm on a chilly morning.

Our visit to Jerez (de la Frontera), purely through luck, happened to coincide with the start of Christmas in the Spanish calendar. This being a public holiday meant the zambombas were in full swing. Think Christmas carols flamenco style. Basically anyone can go into town to party – drink, eat, dance and sing Christmas carols, accompanied by the friction drums called zambombas. We did the eating and drinking bit but could only vaguely clap along to the carols.

Of course Jerez is famous for a) sherry and b) dancing horses. There wasn’t a show at the Royal Andalusian School of Equestrian Art while we were there and we weren’t sure if it would be our sort of thing anyway, while tours of the sherry producers are stupidly expensive. We contented ourselves with trying different sherries in the the various bars. Well, I did – Neil stuck to beer. No surprises​ there, then, to anybody​ who knows us!

The tourist highlight for us was the Palacio del Virrey Laserna with the Count himself as our personal guide. I was terrified of knocking over one of the priceless artifacts and too awed to ask to take pictures so here’s a link. https://www.palaciodelvirreylaserna.com/presentation/

Church of San Miguel lit by the morning sun.

This being Andalusia there were many beautiful courtyards including this one which was the view from our bedroom window. 

We gave Cadiz a miss as we had already been there on our journey from Plymouth to Greece (here) but did visit a couple of pretty seaside towns which were very much out of season. A castle with more steps was inevitably included this time following in the footsteps of Queen Isabella of Castile who managed while heavily pregnant so I didn’t really have an excuse.

She saw the sea for the first time from this window, apparently. I wonder if she was impressed.

We probably didn’t fully appreciate Ronda. This was largely due to the truly spectacular scenery we’d driven through on the way there.

We had taken a detour through Sierra de Grazalema Natural Park to see the White Villages or Pueblos Blancos of Andalusia. Pretty as they were, we hadn’t expected that the highlight of our tour would be driving to the heights of the Sierras themselves, each turn of the road revealing vistas of increasing grandeur. Wild deer strolled to the roadside, eyeing us up as we gawped, too surprised to take a picture. Pausing at a viewpoint we looked up to see a flock of vultures flew overhead. Amazing, extraordinary, wonderful.

So arriving in Ronda came as something of an anticlimax. The three bridges over the gorge, the newest dating back to 1751,

the gorge itself and the houses seeming to totter at its edge

– all failed to impress. We were tired and somewhat jaded. Lorca the next day was decidedly disappointing. It was time to call it a day and head for “home”.

 

Car Trouble

Our car hasn’t been looking too good for a while. Originally purchased back in 2013 when the idea of towing a caravan began to look like a real possibility, this big workhorse more than proved worth keeping long after we parted company with the ‘van. The sheer amount of “stuff” that could be piled into the cavernous boot space made it ideal for our wandering lifestyle. The bulk of our old boat’s contents were transported across Europe, the caravan dragged around the UK and every winter we’ve spent in Spain it crossed the channel with us, carrying all we needed for months at a time.

I was the problem. My 5 foot 5 inches proved to be insufficient for the driver’s seat of this man’s car. Being unable to see where the bonnet started and the boot ended meant I struggled with close maneuvering and parking (OK, never my strong point) and proved to be a bit too much of a challenge. It reached the point where we decided not to bother with cosmetic repairs. I’m not taking all the blame, mind, as Neil added his own bit of decoration last autumn!

But still this beastie kept on going. Until last week, that is. What didn’t make it into the last blog entry was the fact that the car ground to a halt on the motorway just after leaving Benidorm. Neil managed to steer it under its own momentum to the hard shoulder and to peer helplessly under the bonnet whilst I hurriedly clambered over the safety rail sporting a fetching high-visibility vest. Similarly attired, he joined me on the scrub-covered bank and rang round our friends in search of a contact number for a mechanic. Thankfully they were able to help but it soon became clear it was a breakdown truck we needed.

We settled down to wait in what proved to be a record breaking heatwave for January and as bladders relentlessly filled. This inconvenience is so much easier to manage for a man. Having put it off as long as I could, the time eventually came when I had to get myself into an off road hiding place. This involved climbing over the sharp, scrubby bushes and assorted debris that accumulates​ in inaccessible places and down a slippery, precipitous bank to find somewhere discreet to expose myself. Did I mention the sharp bushes?

Well, the long and short of it all is that we are now without a car. The engine failure proved to be pretty catastrophic and uneconomic for us to repair. A replacement is being sought.

Show Time

In all the time we’ve been coming to the Costa Blanca the show at the Benidorm Palace is something we’ve never done. This is, perhaps, surprising as the resort’s night time buzz makes a welcome change now and then from Jávea’s more laid back vibe and the Palace is something of an institution. Somehow we’d never got around to it mostly because of an image of “Dancing Girls” which didn’t really appeal.

Then we got chatting to a couple who had been recently and were raving about it, describing the show as the best they’d seen in years. In the post Christmas lull where nothing much was happening further investigation seemed like a good idea.

First opening its doors in 1977 but going through a couple of transformations ​since including a major refurb, this winter’s show was the 40th anniversary celebration ‘Rubi’ in which “more than 50 artists participate and whose main theme is the “Spanish” Fiesta.” and promising “A night full of surprises, elegance, fantasy and art.” Well, sounds worth a try doesn’t it?

Booking on-line (https://www.benidormpalace.com/en/benidorm-palace/ )was a challenge though. Perhaps we’re just awkward, but having decided we wanted to go the whole hog and have dinner there before the show we were completely unable to select our chosen main courses. Not to be defeated Neil rang the booking office. Turns out that the difference in price of the various menus reflects not just the food itself but also the location of the table. I wanted a deluxe (of course!) so Neil had to pay the extra, allowing us to sit at the same table! 

It turned out to be well worth it. I can honestly say we had the best table in the place; bang in the centre, a comfortable few rows back and elevated above the tables in front. OK, we’re not talking Michelin star food here but it was more than satisfactory and the show, well, not to spoil anything, was pretty awesome. In the early hours of a chilly January morning, there was a spring in our stagger as we left. Definitely worth the visit. 

November

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marina_Alta

 I’ve been neglecting this blog since our return to Jávea in Spain. To be honest, it does become difficult to think of something fresh to say about a place you’ve written about many times before.With our first month ​here now over, however, it seemed appropriate to share a few photos.
Although we still refer to the UK as home, it’s to this little corner of the Spanish coast in the Comunitat Valenciana that we keep returning each winter.

As members of the University of the Third Age, perhaps better known as the U3A, we quickly find ourselves absorbed in their groups and activities when we get back. One of the first was the annual coach trip to Valencia. I think the idea was originally for it to be a pre-Christmas shopping trip but we tend to use the opportunity to simply enjoy this lovely city. Last year it was the futuristic buildings of the City of Arts and Sciences that absorbed our time https://lamputtsonland.wordpress.com/tag/ciudad-de-las-artes-y-las-ciencias/

This time the old town called with its bell towers and their views over the rooftops. We climbed a lot of steps!

I did manage to briefly explore the wonderful indoor market, leaving Neil in a nearby cafe – he doesn’t do markets.

Some pretty amazing street art 

Otherwise, our return to Spain has, so far, been confined to the beautiful area of the Marina Alta https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marina_Alta  nd lots of coastal walks.

The end of the month brought a change from the beautiful warm days we’d been enjoying earlier in the month.  

The clouds were closing in as we walked the seafront in Dénia. 

It’s now turned decidedly chilly but I guess it’s all relative! 

Pamplona Impressions

Although best known for its bull running event, Pamplona is so much more. Following on the heels of our visit to Zaragoza the contrast is striking and left us wishing we’d chosen to spend longer here than this flying visit. With just a couple of hours to explore, not even long enough to have a meal, we raced around the beautiful narrow streets, a photogenic view at every turn.

They say that we subconsciously remember smells and that they trigger memories. For Seville that will certainly be from the orange blossom. For me, Pamplona will for ever be associated in my mind with the green fragrance of the new growth of spring. And, perhaps, the tangy sweetness​ of lemon ice cream.

Shady, green park

Beautiful buildings

Open, sunny Plaza 

There’s even deer grazing, protected by the city moat

Zaragoza

It’s perhaps unfortunate that we visited Zaragoza so soon after spending time in Seville. It seriously doesn’t compare. But perhaps I shouldn’t be too harsh, particularly if, like us, you want to break up the long drive from the Mediterranean coast to the the ferries in the north.

There are two cathedrals for a start, not to mention the fortified palace of the Aragon Court. We visited the latter on our first evening after failing to be able to walk to it along the riverbank. It’s pleasant enough although so restored it resembles a stereotypical toy castle. It must have been splendid in its day but little of that splendour remains and we left after half an hour feeling we hadn’t been allowed to access most of the building.

Then there’s the food. The tapas bars get rave reviews but I feel like the boy who said the Emperor was “in the altogether”. I’d have been grateful for a Macdonald’s, to be honest. And everybody is so incredibly unfriendly to the point of rudeness. Yes, they’re busy and they are serving idiots who are stupid enough to eat in a place where the waiter insists you don’t ask him for a particular item on the menu, just tell him the number. I sympathise but it doesn’t help. Oh, and you’ll pay far more than anywhere else in Spain that we have visited.

Ok, maybe my judgement has been clouded by accidentally stepping with both feet into a water feature shortly followed by walking into a glass door that turned out not to be a door – the only time I saw a local laugh. I decided that the dire food was the third of the “these things come in threes” event. Nevertheless, I’ve been very careful to hold handrails while going up and down stairs!

Our second day restored my faith in Zaragoza. For a start we found somewhere serving fresh bread at reasonable prices for breakfast and the busy waitress managed to both smile and be friendly. It’s amazing how something like that can change your day. After losing it slightly when I was served warm white wine (they quickly realised it was a good idea to get me a fresh one!) we decided to change our eating intentions completely and hunted out a lunchtime Menu del Dia in the shopping district, completely abandoning the idea of tapas. Thankfully that worked, too.

We managed to visit both cathedrals, some Roman ruins and a quirky exhibition of huge illuminated lanterns at the Museum of the Crystal Rosary (Museo de los Faroles y Rosario de Cristal). Apparently these huge illuminated lanterns are carried around Zaragoza in October which one review we read described as a sort of collision between Blackpool Illuminations and Semana Santa. Now that would definitely be something to see.

So would we return? As an overnight stopover – probably.

Sevilla

We never made it to Seville on our sail from Plymouth to Greece (http://www.sailblogs.com/member/serenmor/) but I’ve wanted to go ever since. This winter we were determined to finally make the trip and, being weather-obsessed sailors, looked for a suitable weather window even though we were driving. We wanted dry and sunny but cool enough to walk around and last week looked perfect.

Of course, it didn’t go entirely as forecast. Leaving a Jávea bathed in sunshine in a car still dusty with wind-blown pollen and sand, we arrived wet and shiny after a long-threatened torrential downpour just as we arrived in the Seville rush hour traffic. However, the trusty satnav took us straight to our hotel and we were soon pounding the streets under the faintest hint of “trying to rain”.

Having got our bearings and timed the walk to the sights in preparation for the the following day, a few drinks were called for sitting outside, naturally, encased in our wet weather gear and under a parasol just in case – well we are tourists, you know. We visited enough establishments to establish that you don’t get given any crisps, let alone tapas, with drinks in Seville (you can dine off freebies in Granada) so we headed indoors for something more substantial. And thus began a three night stay of fabulous food indulgence.

I won’t bore you with all the details of the sites we visited over the next couple of days (I’ll let the pictures do that!). This blog has never been a travelogue. All I will say is that Seville lived up to expectations and then some. It enchanted me. The weather gradually improved so that by our last evening we were happily dining outside well into the night. One for the bucket lists.

The Cathedral with its bell tower on the right, glowing in the sunlight

Inside it’s gold that makes the cathedral glow. Polishing the already dazzling alter ready for Easter 

A fitting place for the tomb of Christopher Columbus 

Posing in the square outside the cathedral 

A courtyard in the extraordinary Alcazar 

A small part of the gardens of the Alcazar, filled, like much of Seville at this time of year, with the scent of orange blossom

Intriguing courtyards can be glimpsed from the narrow streets of the old town, hinting at far more space inside than the exteriors would suggest

Of course, you can’t escape the tourist tatt but some are drawn to it