Irish Times

 It was only half an hour  to the ferry terminal as I passed through Bilbao on a quiet Sunday morning and joined the queue of mainly trucks and campers. At Passport Control I made sure mine was stamped out, not done for the Irish and other Europeans leaving but essential for me to quantify the duration of my stay at a later date although my stay in Ireland itself doesn't count as it is a subject to a special arrangement with Britain : another ludicrous aspect of the Brexit fiasco.

 

 

Boarding was straight forward enough and once the pilot had jumped across we were away on a sunny morning with a clear sky and flat seas. It was my second journey on the gas fuelled Galicia and the ship was perhaps only half full so I found a tuck away in the sun on the top deck and watched as the coastline receded with the snow covered tops of the Picos visible away to the west.

I had decided not to bother with the Commodore Lounge pass as it is now £90 and had also opted for a reclining seat for the one night of this crossing. The former decision was a good one but on the second choice suffice to say it will be a decent cabin in future - the recliners don't very far, are very uncomfortable and the door to the area was noisy and banged with people coming and going all night. I ate well in the restaurant, watched the sun set and was up early next morning as we rounded Land's End giving a quick phone connection to a UK network before a final few hours put us in Rosslare after several sightings of porpoise in the Irish Sea.

 

Disembarking was delayed by two new Range Rovers requiring a jump start, presumably their alarms had been going off during the crossing so I admired a large Mercedes 4x4 van that looked very capable and had the Raptor paint I am considering using for my fibreglass roof.

It felt very odd driving on the left and I only drove for less than an hour to a park up above a beach at Ballyhealy, grateful that my smaller van could reverse in to a space between the dunes that got me out of the very strong winds. The Saltee Islands lay a couple of miles offshore and I walked along the beach to houses south of Kilmore that were threatened by coastal erosion so remedial engineering was underway.

Ballyhealy Castle stood behind a large cast iron gate and is on the Norman Way which passes through the area and before long I was back at the van surprised to see three local lads braving the crashing waves.

 

 

 

 

Anyway it was a peaceful night but on a grey wet morning I drove round to Kilmore Quay and parked at the Community Centre which has a decent cafe and motorhome service point where I topped up the fresh water. After a look round the small harbour I enjoyed a hot chocolate at the cafe before following the coast west and turning down on to the Hook Peninsula which culminated in the impressive Hook lighthouse, the oldest in the world dating back to mediaeval times. As the skies had cleared I booked on the tour which was well worth it - starting at the coastguard lookout before heading up the 188 steps to just below the light and out on to the terrace for wonderful views in all directions. The guide was very well informed and entertaining and clearly relished his job. Passing the imposing Loftus Hall, reputed to be haunted and now being redeveloped as a hotel I arrived at the imposing remains of Dunbrody Abbey before returning the few miles to Ballyhack for the short ferry ride over to Passage East and skirting round Waterford to arrive west of the town at a quiet carpark giving access to the Waterford GreenWay cycle path. I rode east in to town and then explored the centre before returning for a peaceful night.

 

Wednesday dawned bright, sunny and fresh so I was soon away to follow the GreenWay some 30 miles out to Dungarvan on the route of the old Mallow/Waterford Line. The Waterford and Suir Heritage train still runs on a regauged track alongside the path and there are plans for it to eventually reach back to Waterford and the GreenWay to be extended out to Mallow once more. Anyway for now it is a superb experience with a perfect surface passing through glorious countryside, opening out to extensive coastal views and depositing you bang in the middle of Dungarvan, an attractive coastal town. I checked out the aire for the following night and then decided to return along the Copper Coast route after having a good snack lunch at the Caboose cafe on the trail.

 

This added a few extra miles and some hills but was an excellent decision as the quiet road took me to beautiful bays such as  Stradbally and Kilmurrin Cove. The old copper mine at Tankardstown was reminiscent of the equally impressive mine buildings in North Cornwall and after reaching Annestown with its lovely beach I turned inland to Dunhill and returned to the GreenWay as it followed the Suir back to the parking where I enjoyed a remarkable sunset after sixty rewarding miles.

Thursday dawned as forecast - wet, cold and windy so not much fun for a French couple sleeping in their estate car, yet again I was thankful for the warmth and comfort of my set up. The aire at Dungarvan was near the town centre, had water and waste facilities and required 10 euros a night in the parking meter. I didn't need any of the services but felt it was a good thing to support the initiative so parked up on a foul day with the heater on. As things lifted after lunch I walked in to enjoy the small but interesting local museum and picked up some shopping before heading back. 

A grey, cold but mainly dry Friday (Morocco  is now a fading memory) saw me parking up at the large Tesco's on the edge of Cashel and walking in to visit the impressive Rock of Cashel standing proudly above the town. Again I opted for the guided tour and Patrick gave us an entertaining and irreverent commentary on the history of the overlapping castle and cathedral ruins. 

 

We also visited the beautifully preserved chapel with its Norman stonework before I returned to the van and drove over to the Mitchelstown Caves. Having expected an over developed touristy set up I almost missed the small car park opposite an old house with just a small sign. I knocked at the window and Abi appeared but said they weren't insured to only take one visitor so I said I would wait and have lunch in the van and see if anyone turned up. Fortunately a young family over from Canada eventually appeared so before long we were all walking up to the locked gate in a small limestone quarry where over a century ago the farmer had lost his crowbar down a gap, removed some rocks and began the exploration of this surprisingly extensive system. It was to their credit that the caverns, passages and formations had been only minimally disturbed to improve access and we all enjoyed it very much - potholers can reach the more distant passages and there is a second layer of caverns and passageways some 20 metres below the public area.

 

I hoofed it along to the Ballyhoura Mountain Bike Centre in the eponymous woods and mountains to find another low key place with parking at 5 euros and no signs banning overnight parking. There was a shower and toilet block but the bike rental was shut as it was now after 5 so I asked a couple of local riders about the various trail options and decided to do the longest blue route as apparently much of the 50k long red route is overgrown. Thus I enjoyed a couple of hours following the forest roads linked by well designed flowing single track with no one around and just a few wild goats for company. Back at the carpark by dusk there was no one else about so I showered early in the van and hit the sack after an energetic few days.

I woke early after a sound night's sleep so was soon away and before long arrived at Abbeyfeale which sits on the Limerick Greenway. The carpark behind the Railway Inn also houses a bike hire centre and the owner had some useful advice on the available options and also said people often overnighted which was good news. I set off west following the old Limerick to Kerry line out as far as Listowel before taking quiet back roads out to Ballybunion on the coast, a low key beach resort with an apparently world renowned golf course. On my return I stopped at the pitch 'n putt which had a cafe and was a very pleasant and welcoming place to take a breather and did an excellent cheese and ham toastie. I was back early enough to walk in to town and enjoy some of the traditional Irish music and dancing that has been a feature of this Bank Holiday weekend in Abbeyfeale for thirty years. Using a curtain sided trailer as a stage the band entertained a small crowd despite a few local bogans cruising by in their pimped rides with ludicrous exhaust systems.

 

Today has been warm and sunny after a misty start so I rode the rest of the LG east out to Newcastle West and Rathkeale where nowhere was open for even a coffee, fortunately I had apples and water and on the return the excellent Platform 22 cafe near the Ballymuragh viewpoint was open for business. Again the trail was well maintained with a smooth tarmac surface, good gates and signage and some stunning views over to the coast and way in the distance the mountains of the Killarney National Park.

A warm evening has given me time to do this catch up - tomorrow's plan is the Tarbert ferry across the Shannon in to County Clare and the first campsite of the trip for a service stop. I may even take an EHU, my second in four months away but as the panel has been doing its job all day today I doubt I'll really need it.

Anyway a few pics here and an update in a week or so............

Navarre

 A 'Digi' SIM from a small shop in town sorted me out for connectivity and still feeling surprisingly rough I drove over to Irurtzun on the Plazaola Via Verde that provides a quiet spot on the edge of town with good facilities at a very reasonable 5 euros for 48 hours. It was sunny, bright and cold but I still felt listless so rested up for the day. 

 A twenty mile ride up to Lekunberri and back was more than enough - a coffee at the old station was very welcome - on the way up I had seen perhaps fifty vultures tearing in to a dead horse with another fifty or so devouring carrion around the field and at least a hundred circling high above the valley - a remarkable sight. On my return two hours later there was no sign of bird or beast....

 

I drove on down to Pamplona ten miles away in search of gas, failing to find it in a huge Leroy Merlin DIY store but being absolutely amazed at the vast range and variety of stock - the western world has gone mad. A CEPSA petrol station in the city did have the bottles - I needed two and the serving lass was astounded when I told her the same cylinder is 80 euros in the UK and Ireland - only 18 here.

A lovely drive through the wooded mountains to the north brought me to Jauntsarats where the village provide a small aire with water and parking on a grassy spot behind a sports hall. Bizarrely I noticed two brightly coloured macaws tethered in a tree and later even more unexpectedly the two lads in a Dreamer van set off on mountain bikes with a bird each on their rucksacks.

 

It was a very quiet night and on the Sunday Gary, the friend from Portugal, called to say he would be in the area on Monday so I decided to head back to Irurtzun and bag two adjacent pitches. I walked up to the vulture observation post high up behind the aire and then dropped back to the VV which then returned to the aire passing through various tunnels and two huge rock portals. On one a group of climbers were abseiling down from a partially completed climb on a vast slab of almost sheer limestone.

 

Gary arrived late morning and we dropped in to the village for a coffee and a catch up. It has been a trying process selling up, transferring the business and storing possessions until he moves in to a new property in July or August so he was looking forward to a steady run through France and some long overdue catch up time with friends and family in the UK.

We said our goodbyes on the Tuesday morning and I headed a few miles and a thousand metres higher in to the Sierra de Aralar with snow starting to fall as I reached the remarkable old monastery of San Miguel in Excelsis with a couple of inches of settled snow and a howling wind for good measure. I had planned to stay up there but mindful of a steep descent on the north facing side and the possibility of black ice in the morning I decided to drop down the superb twisting road to Lekunberri, stay in the aire and walk up to the cafe for a decent coffee and cake before tucking away with the heater doing its job. 

 

Returning to Irurtzun via the monastery, which was looking almost Bavarian in the sunshine as the weather started to clear. I was now feeling back to normal after over a week so I took the path up to the Trinidad ermita above the town that had great views across to the still snow covered Aralar tops before dropping down to Latasa. A lovely collie had arrived at the top with a large group of Spanish walkers taking a different route but he wasn't with them and proceeded to follow me the seven miles down to first Latasa and then back to the aire. We parted company as he toddled off but I noticed later the local police had grabbed him and before long a van belonging to a sheep's cheese maker turned up : apparently he is well known for regularly wandering off, the dog that is!

 

Keen to use a final gas up I cooked and froze various meals next morning, had a hot shower and was soon removing the bikes to change a cylinder, deal with the loo, clean the bathroom thoroughly and put everything back ready for the couple of hours across to Bilbao. The CEPSA girl was laughing as I returned - threatening to charge me the full 80 euros - and there was some heavy rain as I passed Argomaniz where the Parador had been. A short delay after an accident outside Bilbao saw me arrive at Mungia mid afternoon - the fresh water supply is rather slow but I was soon parked up and walked in to town to check that the laundrette would be open next day.

 

After a quiet night I took the laundry down to get all practicalities seen to before tomorrow's mid morning sailing to Rosslare - I need to swop over maps and guides, change the SD card in the SatMap gizmo and start adjusting to driving on the left after four months.

It has been another amazing trip, the van behaving impeccably with approaching 100,000 miles under my ownership and 130k in total. Ireland will be a different and costlier trip as there are few free camping options but I am looking forward to filling the gaps from previous trips stretching back to caving in the Burren some forty years ago.

Anyway no additional pics this time as it's not long since the last post unless you are a glutton for punishment in which case this link will take you to an album of over 100 top shots from 2023 - you've been warned .... LINK

Valencia, The Ebre Delta, Els Ports and Northern Spain

The weather improved after a night in Yecla - in the evening we had walked down to town and watched the Easter floats being dismantled in the old Basilica and carefully stored for another year and a busy  heladeria provided a delicious ice cream in a cosy setting. The following morning we drove on to Biar after using a laundrette in Yecla where the small aire on two levels below the old town had free hook up for some pitches. We took one and then I used a splitter adapter to allow a Spanish arrival to connect up as well before we walked out to view a medieval aqueduct and climb back through the town and up to the castle for great views across the plains. The following day we took the Via Verde de Xixarra across olive and almond orchards, through Villena and on back to Yecla where a Burger King (!!!) provided sustenance for the return journey. I noticed whilst unloading the bikes that we had lost the 5l fuel can from the bike rack on a speed bump but there was no sign of it as we climbed up to the impressive castle and explored the various levels emerging finally at the top of the main tower with its four circular turrets. Some remarkable old graffitti on the walls carved by prisoners was well preserved despite the more recent additions of thoughtless visitors. We had passed a place that we'd stayed at previously where the owner lives in a bizarre sphere house and which seemed to now be targeting the eco conscious traveller. In the evening we walked in to the old town for a coffee near the college that was popular with students before returning for a quiet night.

 

Moving on we called at Xativa where two large castles are draped along a high ridge overlooking the town. Mindful of not allowing the sat nave to take us in to a narrow maze of streets we parked up on the edge of town and walked in passing the impressive basilica before taking the twisting road up to the main castle gate. Both castles were remarkable in size, location and preservation and we spent a couple of hours exploring, grateful for the cooler breeze on a hot day. The terrace was a lovely place for coffee before we walked back down to the town. In a side street we spotted a small cafe and decided to stop for a late lunch - the owner and her daughter produced two excellent meals and were very friendly.

After a couple of hours drive we pulled in on the large aire opposite Morella with its view across to the town and its predominant castle. The new road has ironed out the many tight bends that made my approach two years ago quite exciting - I remember watching the remarkable civil engineering going in to constructing new tunnels and flyovers. There were a fair few vans there but it had plenty of space and the following day we walked down past the aqueduct and bought a ticket for admission to the town walls and main gate, castle, basilica and dinosaur museum. Inside the basilica its most remarkable feature was a stunning carved staircase leading to the choir stalls. After this it was another steep climb up to the castle with the bullring just inside its lower walls and then passing through various gates and other defensive structures to reach the main keep which offered superb views across a landscape of olives, vines, citrus trees and some arable crops. Back at the aire we chatted to an inspirational Swiss couple - the wife had a wasting condition that required her to use a motorised off road wheelchair but they seemed very organised and determined to make the most of life.

 

Dropping back to the coast the following day we arrived on the aire at St Jaume D'Enveja which is ideally located for exploring the Ebre Delta by bike and was thus pretty full. We rode across the new bridge to Deltebre where preparations were under way for a weekend triathlon and thought that whilst the paid aire was quieter for now it would soon fill up with competitors and supporters. The riverside path took us out to a small marina and then a track through the estuarine marshes brought us to Riumar, a low key beach resort. At the far end a few vans were staying at the end of the track - the holiday accommodation alongside was closed down so it would have been a nice pace to stay and one to remember for next time. The following day saw us covering 40 odd miles as we took paths, tracks and lanes through the flat fields that were being ploughed and tilled ready for the flooding and rice planting due in May. Flamingoes and a huge range of other waders, herons and waterfowl occupied the wetlands and out at the Illa de Buda after dropping down to the beach we enjoyed good views over the extensive habitat from an observation tower. Returning to the van we dropped in to the EuroSpar for bread and fruit and enjoyed a well earned shower and rest that evening. The following day we finished off the last of the wetlands by cycling west towards Amposta and then covering the area to the south finally circling back to the van and heading away in to the mountains.

 

Horta de St Joan provided a lovely aire on the edge of town with good views across to the limestone towers of Els Ports National Park. The old town was beautiful with arches, covered walkways, numerous alleyways and a striking number of elegant buildings. Picasso had apparently lived here for a year during which he developed his artistic style and there is a museum and arts centre dedicated to his life and work. We enjoyed drinks in a cosy vaulted bar before heading back to the van - with Easter holidays now ending there were fewer Spanish vans around.

A ride down to Xerta on the Via Verde de la Terra Alta passed through Bot where an old railway carriage provided refreshments and shelter from the gusty winds before the route became the VV del Baix Ebre - all are part of the Santander - Mediterrana railway that was intended to transfer freight across Spain and avoid the long journey for ships around the Iberian Peninsula. Unfortunately it was never completed as new roads and the concept of the container and artic proved faster and more economic than a single track line threading through the mountains. However the legacy is a superb cycle route that passes through dozens of tunnels, over several viaducts and across empty landscapes with several old stations providing refreshment opportunities. We stopped at the old station of Benifallet for an excellent lunch with a lively cycling group occupying an adjacent table. Google Translate via the camera produced some interesting possibilities for lunch, including cream of underwear but as always whatever we received was delicious. We dined well and drank plenty of water before heading steadily uphill with a headwind making for quite a strenuous ride. The same cosy bar in Horta provided a much needed beer after a hugely enjoyable day - the new bikes are doing really well, replacing them immediately was a good decision and they are both proving to be comfortable and well assembled.

 

An easier day with a ride up to Cretas was intended to give Mandy's troublesome leg a bit of a rest although she insists riding does it no harm and we arrrived at the lovely old village I have stayed in a few times. We found the traditional bakery that has been run by the same family for 150 years and succumbed to good bread and a box of pastries before calling at the small butchers for pork fillets and sausages. An easy run back to an almost empty aire gave us an afternoon in the sun before we descended on the Bar de Pesetas for a final chat with the enthusiastic young lady who hopes to make a success of the establishment. On our way back we had taken a short diversion to see Lo Parot thought to be the oldest olive tree in Spain and planted by the Moors a thousand years or more ago - there was something very moving about the sturdy trunk and desnse canopy of foliage.

After dealing with the van's domestics we parked at the beautiful but disused convent of Sant Salvador D'Horta from where an hour or so's steep climb brings you out to a hilltop chapel visible for miles around and commanding stunning views. It was a very windy day day but fortunately most of the path was on the sunny sheltered side and after a final scramble we reached the ruins with a cross and flag located along another ridge. I decided despite the winds gusting to 50 mph to make my way across for that grammable selfie.....

 

We only moved on to Cretas as it's a lovely aire and walked in to the village for a more detailed exploration of its old streets and alleyways - it is another of Spain's many villages that have great charm and history but suffer from a lack of opportunity for young people to stay on.

Further up the Via Verde now known as the VV Del Val De Zafan we pulled in to the old station at Valjunquera and decided the spot alongside the old station buildings in the middle of nowhere would do us very well for a couple of nights. The buildings were semi derelict but still showed the care and skill that had gone in to the arches, brickwork and tiling. We rode up to Alcarniz via a long unlit tunnel - I had remembered to bring my powerful light which again illuminated the remarkable skills of the stonemasons with the graceful entrance portals and curved tunnel linings. We stopped for coffee in the main square and then rode up to the castle which is now a Parador whose terrace has great views over the town before returning to the station where the solar panel had been hard at work and the fridge had kept much needed beers cold. A shortish run back to Cretas for more bread was followed by a day in the hot sunshine and the evening meal outside under a new moon. A few cyclists passed and an old local guy parked up to go on a walk, as he had done the previous evening but otherwise we had the remarkable spot to ourselves.

 

With Mandy's return to the UK only a week away we moved on a bit passing the Greenwich Meridian at one point and taking in one section of VV north at Hijar where an aquaduct crossed the trail high on another beautiful bridge. In a cutting huge amounts of tumbleweed had gathered in piles - it was fascinating to release one or two and see how easily they rolled  away in the breeze.

North of Soria at Garray we stopped at another aire and walked in to the village on a slightly chilly evening - at 3000' northern Spain can be fresh but I fully intend to return to this area in the winter or spring as there is so much to see and numerous mountain bike trails are signposted through the countryside on the Caminos Naturales. Nearby the Celtiberian archaeological site of Numantia provided a few fascinating hours as we walked amongst the ruins of a town taken over by the Romans with evidence of cisterns, the outline of streets and houses from the two different cultures and two reconstructed houses showing how the two groups lived. The audio guide in English was excellent and available via a Q code on your phone - all clever stuff.

 

West of Soria we parked in the pretty village of Ocenilla to ride as far as Abejar with drinks at each end and then moved on to another aire at Hontaria del Pinar which as the name suggests is in the middle of a large pine forested area where timber production is the major local enterprise. Thanks to this the railway had been active for many years but now lies dormant - I had ridden around here just over two years ago in very cold but dry conditions so it was good to be back with much higher temperatures. We walked up to the small chapel on a hill overlooking the village and watched a colourful sunset before turning in with perhaps 3 or 4 other vans in situ.

The superb Gorge of the Rio Lobos made for a memorable ride the following day with a good single track following the valley for about 20km, crossing it occasionally with fords or stepping stones, and in a couple of places walkways carried us round the steep cliffs that rose to the sky. One particularly inaccessible section was home to nesting vultures and golden eagles soared high above adding to the remarkable scene. The rockfaces were very colourful and sported yellow flowering shrubs and stubby pines whilst below the clear waters hosted numerous frogs whose croaking filled the air. Ninety percent of the route was rideable and we saw very few people as the further reaches take some getting to but as we reached the beautiful ermita at Templaria de St Bartolome opposite the enormous cueva grande there were a few more visitors but far less than I had expected at such a stunning place. Heading out to the road the cafe was closed but we were able to fill our bottles at a spring before embarking on the long but steady climb out of the gorge via several hairpins to reach the viewing platform for the gorge. From here it was largely downhill to San Leonardo de Yague where after drinks and tapas we picked up the VV back to Hontaria after one of the best rides of the trip.

 

Burgos next day did for a laundry stop before we turned up at Argomaniz for a special night in the village's Parador. A converted palace once used by Napoleon, the original building plus two newer extensions was very well presented and our room was large and stylish. We'd wondered why the car park was so full and found out that a cosmetics sales day was underway but as the event closed the place became more peaceful and we enjoyed drinks in the cafe before walking round the village. Dinner on the top floor of the old section under the magnificent timber roof structure was excellent with friendly staff and a lovely vibe - maybe partly due to the decent Rioja consumed.

Unfortunately overnight we were both rather ill and having had very different meals decided the blame lay with a shared Russian salad from a delicatessen in Burgos. It left us both completely floored so we drove the hour to Mungia on a rainy day and settled down in the aire with the heater on. A walk later in to the town helped a bit but we were in bed by 6 having avoided all food and felt far better for lying in warm comfy surroundings with the last of the TV downloads to watch.

 

This morning we both felt much better but avoided eating and I am now finishing this blog as Mandy's flight to Manchester arrives on schedule. It has been another memorable 8 weeks together, with its dramas as reported, but as always I feel very privileged to be living this itinerant life with all its rewards and challenges.

The aire at Mungia will do for tonight as well as I need to walk in and buy a SIM card to evade the post Brexit roaming on my phone for the last ten days in Spain and the planned two months in Ireland. Tonight I will plan further rides in this area and find a suitable place to RV with Gary from Portugal who has finally handed over the campsite to the new owners and is heading to the UK for a proper catch up with friends and family. My ferry is in ten days time so an update will be squeezed in before then.

EXTRA PICS HERE

 

Andalucia and Murcia

 After a quick shop in the Lidl at Tarifa we moved on to the windsurfers' favourite free camping a couple of miles west of the town. It wasn't as full as I had expected so we parked up and walked along a moonlit beach looking wistfully back across to the few lights marking Maroc.

 

A daylight walk on the Sunday gave us the chance to admire the kite surfers enjoying good conditions and in some cases performing amazing stunts by using waves to gain lift off and flying through the air for a remarkable distance. Last week's rains had filled the lagoon and the exit river proved too deep to cross so we walked back and collected the bikes for the fifteen minute ride in to town with strong side winds something of a challenge - indeed on the spur across to the Tarifa fort the blown sand provided free exfoliation as we marked the transit between the Med and the Atlantic.We cycled out on the harbour breakwater before heading in to old Tarifa for a couple of beers and then rode back to the park up and enjoyed nosing at the variety of vans, old buses, live in lorries and so on.

 

After a quiet night we drove on up to and past Cadiz to park on the riverside at El Puerto de Santa Maria where supervised parking at 8 euros a night provides a safe place to leave vans and catch the catamaran across to Cadiz. We cycled in to the National Park that projects out in to the lagoon and checked out the ferry times before enjoying a quiet night despite the adjacent circus.

The half hour trip saw us arriving in style at Cadiz which we thoroughly enjoyed exploring on foot as it is a compact city. Preparations for Easter were well under way around the cathedral and we enjoyed walking out to the excellent beaches on the Atlantic coast and then past the docks where a huge Carnival cruise ship was undergoing a multi million pound refit before a ghost crew sailed it round to Los Angeles for the forthcoming season - that would be a fun trip...... A good lunch in the main square left us ready for a final walk round the old traffic free centre before we caught the ferry back - another sea fog had rolled in adding to the atmosphere but back at Puerta it had cleared and we walked round the town before enjoying a good ice cream at a place we found out later was run by the good friend of the guy Salvo I had met in the Western Sahara.

 

The large Carrefour in El Puerto provided free servicing facilities so we drained and filled, did a good shop and then found a laundrette nearby with Mandy taking a shower in the van whilst I supervised the washing. We then called at a self service car wash to reveal the van's true colours once more after 3 months of Saharan sand and Atlas slush and mud. After nipping back to Carrefour to replenish the fresh water we drove off to Marchena located midway along the Via Verde De La Campina. The reviews had said access was tricky but presumably they had been left by the bigger vans as we had no issues and parked up for a ride out towards Ecija before walking up to the town later.

Moving on we parked at Ecija itself in a familiar aire close to the multi towered town (13 in total) and rode out on the VV towards Cordoba with a stunning burst of spring flowers lining both sides of the track. Walking round the town after dark was lovely as all the towers are lit up and the streets hummed with the usual gentle buzz of Spanish cafe culture.

With the start of Easter approaching we headed to Cabra on the Via Verde del Aceite as we hoped the free aire would be quieter than the one further along at Donna Mencia and took up a short bay with no room for immediate neighbours. Cycling west we passed through Lucena and reached Puente Genil for a drink before returning via the old station cafe back at Lucena for coffee and cake. At dusk a guy in a trackie shambled around asking for money and seemed content with just a euro - if each van was similarly inclined he would be clearing 30 euros a night...The walk in to town next day was a fair way but gave us a chance to have lunch in the Plaza Espana and a look round before we rode out to Donna Mencia which was was emptier than Cabra which had by now filled up. We rode in to town again that evening and went up to old castle with its panoramic view and a lovely Moorish church gateway. The munchies caught us out after a few beers in the square so we succumbed to a pizza parlour before pedalling back uncertainly after dark

 

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Driving east we spotted lovely Zuheros and its castle and then turned off to Luque located even higher in the Sierras Subbeticas. By chance the Easter parade was just starting and we were absorbed by the sight of locals dressed in white carrying an Easter religious float through the streets and up to the main church.

Moving on we decided to stay out in the sticks by a reservoir parking in the picnic area near the impressive dam on the Rio Viboras near the small village of Las Casillas. A change in the weather brought in cooler conditions as we walked in to the village and rain arrived overnight. However we were as always warm and cosy and moved on through at one point a fair fall of snow via Guadix to Orce. We stopped briefly in Guadix to walk round the old troglodyte houses in a rather scruffy neighbourhood and Orce was a random decision to pull off as it claimed to be one of the oldest villages in Europe. An easy to use service point on one side of the village was a bonus and we parked up in the large car park of the museum dedicated to the remarkable fossil remains found in the area that rewrote the time line of human development. Donning down jackets against the chill we walked in to the village and checked out a possible restaurant for the following day. We came across a remarkable little shop stuffed to the rafters with a huge variety of produce and obviously little changed in fifty years and bought a few bits and bobs from the friendly owner before returning for the first night with the thermal screens up in months.

 

The museum was excellent with Google translate via our phone cameras explaining things well and an enthusiastic guide leading the other Spanish visitors round. A short film at the end giving a glimpse of a day in the life of Neanderthal man was excellent and thought provoking and in that spirit we retired to the Mimbrera restaurant and devoured in my case a whole leg of lamb roasted in garlic and lamb chops for Mandy over a leisurely lunch - quite the best meal in recent times.

 

Arriving at Caravaca De La Cruz the town aire was busy but we tucked away adjacent to the path down in to town and walked down to the impressive main square and managed to get up to the hill top Sanctuary before the sun set. After a quick meal we then walked in to enjoy the moving spectacle of an Easter Parade with a huge float carried from the central church by 30 or so volunteers through the city's streets. A rousing band with drums and wind instruments was accompanied by people in capes and pointed hats and the scenes were witnessed by large numbers of people, many enjoying an aerial overview from their balconies. By checking out the street maps on our phones we were able to cut through a number of alleys and see the remarkable procession from numerous viewpoints. After several hours the parade returned to the church at around midnight and we strolled back to the van, glad that we had left the heater on. Ten minutes or so later after a hot cuppa we had made, and were in bed on a very gusty night when I heard a noise from the bikes as if a strap had come loose. Less than a minute later I heard another noise so looked out of the rear door window to find both bikes had vanished....

Within seconds I was outside in the freezing cold but well lit aire to confirm that the cable had been cut, another lock opened and all four wheel retaining straps ripped open - this latter act would have taken considerable strength and had I later noticed partially dislodged the whole bike rack. There was no sign of the thieves as they would have been able to ride off down hill and out of sight so rather than wake the large number of surrounding van occupants who would have seen nothing anyway I rang 112 for the police and was put through to an English language service and advised to report it to the local police later that day so we went to bed in a state of disbelief. Next morning we found a bungee discarded down the path but no other evidence and fellow stayers were oblivious to the drama. We walked down to the Policia Local office but were told it was a matter for the Guardia Civil a few minutes in another direction. Here using Google Translate we gave a statement and received a copy of the report by an efficient officer who said it was a bad area to park and had a bad neighbourhood alongside - perhaps not the best place to locate a popular aire in a popular town. On our way back to the van we looked in at a couple of bike shops as we intended to replace them as soon as possible and one guy was very apologetic about our loss and asked for contact details and photos of the bikes in case they were brought to him for repair.A very kind gesture but  the bikes would almost certainly have been sold on to relatively innocent third parties. 

Taking the approach that such an occurrence was no more than a frustrating inconvenience (and one that would have been unlikely to occur in Morocco) we decided to have a look in a Decathlon store at Alcantarilla less than an hour away. Here Hiscio a really friendly staff member with good English was sorry to hear our story and spent the next couple of hours helping us choose two new budget bikes plus a few accessories and two Gold Standard D Locks to get our plans back on track. Fortunately they had plenty of stock so Mandy now has a decent gravel bike and I plumped for a mountain bike with a reasonable spec. Hiscio set these up whilst we did a supermarket shop and then feeling much more positive we headed over to Mula situated mid way along the Via Verde Noroestre that had a large aire and adjacent car park. 

 

 

A three hour run west along the old railway line to Bullas gave us a chance to give the bikes a final tweak and enjoy decent tapas and a beer or two. Back at Mula the aire had filled up and even the car park we had plumped for was filling up rapidly. The famous Drum Festival and Easter parades were the attraction and up at the town a long procession was getting going up at the main church with two horses ridden by costumed Centurions leading the way. The horses were superbly controlled in the tightly packed streets and about 6 different floats, bands and accompanying marchers began a 6 hour parade through the town - a remarkable experience. Good Friday was cloudier and cooler so we enjoyed a rest day but walked up again in the late afternoon as it was the drumming day and the streets were filled with dozens of people creating an ear splitting cacophony of drum rolls as families strolled round many with infants amazingly fast asleep and oblivious to the noise. A steep walk up to the castle offered great views across the town and surrounding lemon and orange groves before we walked back for an evening meal and some more tv courtesy of IPlayer.

 

Yesterday we rode east towards Murcia on the VV covering fifty miles with a head wind in each direction and having a drink at the station cafe half way along at Alguazas Molina, returning to find the aire much emptier than before. We could hear chanting and drumming so walked in to town only to discover that it was the local football ground so we decided to stop and watch the final half hour amused at the amount of noisy support a few dozen spectators could produce.. Up in town the streets were quiet but a candlelit service was beginning that might have gone on a bit but would have been very moving. We slept well overnight after an energetic day knowing that being under our multi strapped cover and with two very tight fitting D locks in place we were unlikely to have further problems - in fact I think the cover alone would have been sufficient deterrrent as it has 9 different straps and unless careful these can easily get caught in the bikes around handelbars and saddles when removing it - so a good lesson learnt.

 

Today we have moved on to Yecla and are sitting out a rare rainy day - the last for the foreseeable future - in an almost empty aire as Spain is back to work tomorrow. More VVs await us over the next fortnight as we work our way north through Valencia and then NW to Bilbao from where Mandy heads home in a little over two weeks. As with the van burglary in Milan five years ago (carried out with the full knowledge and cooperation of and by the staff at Parking Suprema Malpensa Airport) the theft is upsetting but fortunately for us we can afford replacements and no one got injured or hurt so as ever onwards, upwards and count our blessings.

PICS HERE 

  Next post somewhere before Bilbao.

Au Revoir Maroc

 Our meal at M'Hamid was excellent and we watched a Saharan sunset from the roof terrace lying on comfortable banquettes with just the odd light visible out in the sands. Heading back north through Zagora we enjoyed the extensive views over the huge palmeries of the Draa Valley before turning east to N'Kob and arriving at a small campsite near the town. The large pitches, each with a huge area of carpet to keep the dust at bay, in a walled compound, were ideal and the loo facilities were excellent and beautifully decorated. We walked in to the vibrant town for the usual staples and sat at a corner cafe for fresh orange juice as the sun set once more before a very quiet night.

 

The following day we took the former piste, now a well surfaced but still very exciting steep and twisty road north through the Djebel Sahgro passing the lofty twin outcrops of Bab and Ali. At the top of the pass at around 6,500' we stopped at a small cafe and then as it offered overnight parking decided to stay the night even though it was only late morning. We parked on a lower terrace with a superb view across the rocky mountain slopes and then enjoyed fresh tea on the small terrace. The owner's wife, and then her elderly mother persuaded us to buy some small handicrafts after which we took a walk out to an outcrop across the road with dramatic views down to a small village way below and then followed a track in to the hills. An ancient lorry rattled past, drove across very uneven ground and then stopped for the three occupants to begin filling it with large rocks, by hand. It was sad and a surprise to see a huge pile of old nappies dumped amongst rocks further along - hard to believe that the local parents can afford to use them as as far as we could see there was no one living up here for miles. Back at the van after sunset the temperature dropped so we booted up the heater, installed the window insulation and were as cosy as could be.

 

Dropping off the range we turned right for Tinerhir passing through numerous humble villages surrounded by apple orchards and then parked up on the road through to the Todra Gorge at a site I'd not used before as my previous choice claimed he was fully booked that night. The second place was in the grounds of a hotel with large shaded pitches and within easy reach of the palmery that led to the old kasbah across the river. We enjoyed a couple of hours exploring both and returned to the site to see a huge French lorry sized camper towing a trailer containing a quad, and with a small car in its garage, had managed to squeeze in. Later on we cycled up to the gorge to see it in the evening light with far fewer people around before returning for another quiet night.

The following morning we gave a Dutch motorcyclist a lift to the mouth of the gorge and then drove through and on towards Tamtattouchte before climbing the steep pass towards Imilchil. An old guy was pushing his bike up the long climb but we couldn't really have picked him up and in fact when we stopped at the top of the pass for a break he was soon dropped off by a local grand taxi to freewheel his way down the other side. At Agoudal we turned west on the piste that comes up from the Dades gorge that provided me with an exciting drive last year and pulled up at the very simple Auberge La Grotte that I had noted. We parked on a large area of gravel by two friendly dogs and after tea with Abdul started the walk out to the cave located three miles up a side valley. One of the dogs followed us along the stony track where at the far end two Dutch offroad campers were parked up. We then took a path through the gorge to a stone platform but with no sign of the cave - after asking the Dutch people it seemed we had to go beyond the platform and ascend the valley via a series of stone steps. Eventually we found the large entrance beneath an impressive domed formation with two huge holes in the roof and a wide passage leading in to the darkness. I had brought along two powerful torches so we set off inside leaving 'Bonzo' waiting patiently outside. After skirting a deep drop off in to a lower chamber we met two Moroccan lads using their phones as torches before climbing two rather precarious iron ladders to reach a large passage with some nice formations. I ducked under a large calcite flow in to a smaller passage which went a fair way before crawling woud be required at which point I turned round. As we returned to the entrance Bonzo began whining in relief and happily followed us back to the van as a rain squall caught us out. At the auberge we were the only ones staying and as it had turned very cold we were soon in 'winter mode'. The wind blew with a vengeance all night long and when we woke there was a covering of snow everywhere and ice on the windward windows. We paid the requested 50 dirham and then decided to see how much snow there was further up...after a couple of miles and another 1000' or so the snow was much deeper and a 4x4 from the local village was indicating that the pass was closed so we turned round carefully and began to leave the High Atlas by heading east towards Er Rich in the Ziz Valley. 

 

From here after a stunning drive we continued east to Gourrama noting that we had seen no other foreign vehicles or campers all day as this is a relatively unvisited part of Morocco and organised park ups were almost non existent. However there was an opportunity to stay on a smallholding run by a German guy,  Thomaz, so turned up on a dusty yard with several friendly children who all spoke only German or Arabic. This tested the dustier corners of my mind but it seemed we were welcome to stay and that Thomaz would be back later that day. Thomaz was a fascinating guy who had worked all over the world looking at plants and herbs as sources of new medicines as well as mentoring a troubled teenager from Germany and directing the Moroccan family who were running his small farm. After some football and other ball games with the kids we retired for a very peaceful night and left the following morning - Thomaz would not take any payment but I gave him the £150 worth of Mauritanian ouighars that I'd been left with as he would eventually be able to change them or pass them on. Heading north we picked up a young lad hitch hiking who seemed keen, as it was Ramadam, to ask our opinions on Islam and the Quran. We answered honestly that we had little detailed knowledge or insight in to the subjects and indeed were surprised to learn that both Jesus and Mary are mentioned and in fact Mary is seen as a supreme woman and is referred to more often than in the Bible. After dropping him in Missour the sat nav took us up in to the Djebel Bou Iblane of the High Atlas on a series of ever diminshing roads until eventually we were on a rough track above the snow line. A sharp hairpin that due to the snowdrifts took two attempts to negotiate saw us heading to a pass with deep snow piled high. At the top a Moroccan family who had come up from the far side assured us the road was passable so we descended cautiously with the snow melting and a glutinous mud converting the van in to a passable clay model of a T4. It was such a stunning area that we decided to stay out for the night - whilst looking for a suitable spot we noticed the remarkable sight of a dry riverbed being slowly transformed by a tongue of brown meltwater threading its way downhill. After some potential gravelled areas on tight bends we eventually saw a perfect flat area reached by driving over a couple of hundred yards of open ground with a remarkable view back to the snowy ranges, cedar trees nearby and a road with no traffic. After a memorable sunset we took the usual precautions against low temperatures and enjoyed a night of total silence under the new moon which signalled the start of Ramadam.

 

After a leisurely breakfast in  the warm sun we gave some wandering donkeys our left over bread and orange skins before dropping to the Chiker Plateau and the Gouffre de Friatou I had descended on my first visit 11 years previously. The cave entrance was undergoing 'improvement works' and the cave itself seemed to be shut but a young lad on a moped said to come back at 5 and he would take us down. We checked out the slightly eerie and deserted village of Bab Bou Idir which I remembered from before as an unfinished and slightly spooky holiday resort. Fortunately at the Auberge Dayet Chiker opposite the track up to cave we were able to stay with the charming, polite and super friendly Siham and her family. There was only enough space for 3 vans so we tucked in by the wall as chickens, geese, donkeys and a cow grazed nearby. There was a well decorated lounge and some rooms but we were happy enough in the van and Siham produced fresh bread as if by magic. We ordered a chicken tagine for the following night and then walked up to the cave to be met by Abdul. He took us in and down the first couple of hundred of the five hundred or so steps at which point we had to stop as the steel covered walkway had been completely destroyed by a rockfall. It turned out that he was part of the team charged with stabilising the various rock faces of the cave walls and would be netting much of the cavernous opening that led out to the plateau far above us. Once the area had been made safe a new steel staircase was due to be installed with all works due for completion this year - thus convincing us to return next year as from the floor of the main chamber it was possible to follow the system for another 3km to the Gouffre de Chiker. As we returned to the surface it transpired that later this year he was tackling the Gouffre Berger over in the Vercors in France, a system I had visited twice in 1984 and 1985. The following day we cycled back to BBI and then a few miles outside the village took a side track which climbed for 6 miles up to the peak of Djebel Tazzeka. We passed a German 4x4 camper parked on a spur, greeted a friendly shepherd and as we neared the summit saw the van occupants walking back from the summit. Two 4x4 pickups, each carrying a generator passed us heading towards the summit antennae and we eventually reached the wooded top above the snow line after passing through some lovely cedar trees. A soldier occupied the small military hut and watched as the two 4x4 drivers began to ascend the masts with no regard to PPE or rope work. We were soon on our way down as it was quite fresh, stopped to talk to a one armed shepherd and then rolled back to the tarmac and on to the van where after hot showers the lovely Siham knocked on the door with bread, two plates of pasta salad, a huge and delicious tagine and fruit as a dessert. It was all excellent and we were glad that within the hour the family would also be eating. Two other vans had arrived and everyone seemed to appreciate the peace and tranquility of this very special place.

 

The following morning we returned to BBI to fill the van from a tap we had seen by the roadside but felt a bit uneasy as there were dozens of people sat around for no obvious reason. However nothing was said and we followed a lovely meandering road down to the N6 passing through cedar and then oak forests before picking up the motorway - an unusual experience of late - and then a turning north to Taounate, a rather nice town that lay draped over a long ridge. We recognised the turning down to the reservoir and then found the track up to the Montazyfrane base avoiding last year's sat nav guided tour of impossibly tight village dead ends. At the gate a huge French lorry was parked up outside but we were able to pass in to the compound and take a level terrace below the main area with an excellent view across the waters and later a good sunset. The place normally provides food and is a popular place for get togethers but during Ramadam just offers a warm welcome and a peaceful place to sit and enjoy the views.

 

On the Friday morning we dropped back to Taounate for bread and gas before setting the sat nav for Tetouan which came out as a five hour run. Unfortunately I didn't preview the route and before long we were on a very poor twisting and badly potholed road that ran on and on for some forty plus miles. As it also climbed steeply and required mostly low geared driving I began to worry that we would run out of fuel - the jerry can only has petrol in for the genny. Fortunately however the warning light never came on and we were able to coast a fair bit as we dropped down to the N13 where a Ziz station wouldn't take cards but did accept payment in Euros at the standard 10 dirham/euro rate. 76 litres went in to the 80l tank although I believe it's irregular shape does mean that total capacity can be 85l.

We were tempted to head up to Chefchaouen for the night but that would have meant an early start on the Saturday for the ferry so we trundled on, bypassed central Tetouan and arrived at the camping spot at Cabo Negre. Again due to Ramadam the hotel was effectively closed but still welcomed vans at 60 MAD/night with access to good water and an Elsan disposal point. We took a walk through the local area passsing many guarded appartment blocks before returning to the van at sunset.

 

Saturday saw us servicing the domestic aspects of the van, driving the hour or so to Tangier Med and then nipping in to the small village for a final gas cylinder and fresh bread before turning up at the port in plenty of time. Outside the Transmed office a guy caught my attention and said he could get us on the 11am ferry which seemed unlikely as it was already 10.30 but within minutes he had a colleague print out our tickets but then asked for cash - I said that we had no MAD or Euros left and that as I hadn't asked him to help would give him nothing anyway - he took this in its stride and we headed off to get our passports stamped, the van import paperwork cancelled and then joined the queue for the scanner.

After all this it was past 11.30 as expected so we joined the line for our original sailing and by 13.30 were loaded and on our way. As we left the port a sea mist descended bringing yet another amazing trip to a fitting close.

 

Six weeks in Spain will be followed by a couple of months in Eire for me so until the next time enjoy a smorsgabord of piccies here.

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