A Meander South

Well as predicted here I am at Faro on the aire not two hundred yards from the runway - with only a dozen or so flights a day it is not exactly hectic and I will walk round to Arrivals this evening assuming all plans go to....well plan.

The weather improved after Montsarraz in time to get a few piccies of the fortified village including the various nativity models that were being carted away gradually - it was an amusing site to see the three kings on their camels sticking out of a livestock trailer.

 

 

 

On the spur of the moment I was tempted by lunch in a bar with a sunny terrace overlooking the huge Alqueva reservoir and my fried whole squid was beyond delicious.

 

 

 

I only moved on a few miles to park up by the water's edge near Mourao which had a lovely lakeside beach, plenty of waterfowl and no people. I cycled back in to the village to visit the church adjacent to the castle and then sat on a small island to watch a good sunset. A good ride the following day exploring tracks and trails brought me to Luz which is the new village relocated from a couple of miles away when the valley was flooded. It has been built as an almost carbon copy of the old but with improved construction and utilities but being only 20 years old still feels quite characterless. The lovely lady in the bakery sold me some decent bread and the tiny supermarket provided for a few other items. I also discovered that there was an aire in the village with water and waste facilities and power available - payable by machine -as per the other aire the machine was broken but the barrier was up and others were in residence so I moved there the following day.

 

 

This gave me the opportunity for a 55 mile ride down to the impressive dam and hydro scheme and back across the bridge to Mourao on largely deserted roads. I also visited the museum dedicated to the abandoned village which had plenty of history and artefacts relating to the old ways of life.

 

 

Moving south and east I passed through the Aracena National Park, an area of woods, valleys and mountains before pulling in to Aracena itself where parking was allowed in a large empty patch of ground five minutes from the village centre. On a sunny weekend afternoon cafe culture was in full swing and I booked a tour in the Grutas de las Maravillas, a show cave largely located underneath the hilltop castle. The ticket had me booked on the 5 o'clock visit and included the castle itself which I walked up to passing a convent and another fine church. From the castle walls I could get an idea of the layout of the area which had much walking potential before I joined the underground trip.

This was an hour long walk through 2km of superbly decorated cave passages and well worth doing - no photography was permitted but there are some good videos on YouTube. I also visited the museuo de jamon which included all aspects of producing this local delicacy before turning in for the night with a few vans scattered around. Sunday saw me starting a walk out to Linares from a book written twenty odd years ago but apart from a bit of urban sprawl little had changed and I made good enough progress to include a second walk from the same book so finished the day after 15 really enjoyable miles although my knees were yet again causing some discomfort.

Monday was spent doing the walk of The Happy Pigs which lived up to its name as it passed through fields and the dehesa that provide these outdoor reared pigs with acorns to forage. It took me back to my days on the farm when my Oxford Sandy and Blacks would roam at will in similar terrain.A small bar tempted me to go in and I was soon enjoying jamon, egg and chips washed down with a beer and followed by a pud and coffee for a very reasonable £15 before the final walk back in to Aracena.

 

I left the following day but again only as far as Minas de Riotinto where a sloping aire by a busy road was adequate for a one night stay. Up at the mining museum I discovered that a multi buy ticket would give access to the Museum, English house 'Casa21' and a trip on the train down the Rio Tinto Valley the following day. En route I had already visited the other local attraction the Pena De La Hierro which was a smaller now abandoned open mining area with a deep water filled crater and remarkably colourful geology.

 

Thus I visited the mining museum housed in the old hospital built by the English owned RT mining company and enjoyed some excellent displays of geological samples, a surprisingly authentic re-creation of a Roman mine, associated artefacts from a Roman village uncovered by the mining operations and of course archive photos and documents of the mines development in recent years.

I then drove down to the station where the 13.00 (and only) departure of the old train was waiting in a valley surrounded by huge geometric shaped piles of the multi coloured waste from the current operations. The Rio Tinto lived up to its name and appears that colour due to the heavy concentrations of copper in the area - a natural colour rather than due to pollution and in fact the water is pretty clear, it just reflects the underlying strata. The 3 carriage train rocked, rattled and swayed behind an archaic diesel engine as a lady gave a presumably comprehensive commentary in Spanish. I was content to watch the scenery as we passed abandoned mines and quarries, loading bays, crushing plants and an array of old rusting railway relics. After an hour we stopped for time to walk down to the water's edge whilst the loco ran round and then enjoyed a return trip through the remarkable scenery.

There was then time to visit Casa 21, a house on an estate again built by the company to house their workers on postings from Britain and intended to recreate their previous lives being complete with tennis courts, an outdoor pool and a polo pitch - classic miners' pastimes.....the interior looked like some of those we saw last year at Beamish.

 

The final attraction of an excellent day was to follow a mines van through the security fencing to peer in to the huge hole in  the ground that is the still operational Corta Atalaya, the largest open pit mine in Europe at 1200m long, 900 wide and 350 deep. It has been flooded from the 16th ring for many years and is being constantly pumped out whilst existing faces are worked. For an idea of scale a steam locomotive sits at the lowest point and is almost invisible. It was an impressive sight and site and a good end to an interesting day leaving me a short drive south to Valverde de Campo where I planned to ride a local via verde. I had done this one before but from the south and was soon rolling along stopping at a bar on the way back for coffee and toast before loading up and heading for Pomarao on the Spanish Portuguese border.

This enchanting village strings out above the Guadiana river which rises 500 miles away near Madrid and often forms the border with its outlet a further 40 miles on in the Gulf of Cadiz.

A large gravel area provided plenty of space for a number of vans and I pulled in right by the river on a sunny evening. A couple of rides from the van included a crossing back over in to Spain to pick up a new (to me) Via Verde which started from some impressive old loading bays above the river and wound its way through the scenery to the old mine. From here it was a short ride passing an old 16th century windmill to El Granado for beer and a bag of crisps before the run home that finished with a long fast descent to the river.

At Pomarao a large bat had landed beneath the bike rack but didn't look to healthy so I persuaded him to hang off a tree so at least he was clear of predators. A cold night made me value the Eber yet again but Sunday morning sunshine soon had me outside in shorts for a restful day for a change. As on previous days a very elderly local had rowed erratically across to the other bank to tend his vegetable patch, returning at dusk in a what seemed given his antiquity a perilous journey. At lunchtime I went over to check out the Cafe do Cais and found it to be delightful - a covered terrace overlooking the slightly tidal river and the friendly Fatima who spoke a variety of languages and produced a delicious dish of Alentejo pork with clams and potatoes followed by a coconut desert washed down with a Bohemian Sagres. Deservedly she closes for a week from the 24th so unfortunately whilst we will return Mandy will miss this most pleasant experience.

So yesterday I packed up after four days by the river and headed towards Faro stopping at the first camp site in 7 weeks - the Ecopark at Sao Bras de Alportel as I had laundry to do and the van needed a service stop on the domestic front. things dried quickly in the sun although a huge Austrian truck camper with trailer mounted 4x4 was later positioned alongside which cast some shade on things. I cannot imagine hauling that huge combination around was anything less than constantly stressful and in many ways hugely limiting but still, each to their own....anyway 9 euros to park up (no EHU) and 5 for a large laundry load seemed OK and the owners were very friendly. Whilst they don't sell gas they have the local dealer to come in with various brands and sizes and within half an hour a nice guy turned up at my pitch with 2 CG 907s at £15 each : well under half the UK price.

Thus to return to the beginning - it was a cold night again but the days are gloriously sunny and I am now waiting for the arrival of a flight from Manchester - it's a very quiet airport less than two dozen arrivals and departures a day but very interesting to sit up on the bank watching aircraft as they do arrive or leave.

I'd not shopped for a fortnight so spent a fair bit at Lidl and we will head to Mertola tomorrow en route back to Pomarao before moving west to Seville, Cordoba, Granada, the Alpujarras and eventually Morocco at the end of February.

According to the EasyJet tracker the flight is currently on time and just passing over the Brecon Beacons, it's a funny old world.

More than enough pics sit here...

  

Marvao 2023

 So after a break of four years I was looking forward to another peaceful Christmas and New Year on the campsite with the company of Tiggy the cat, the two dogs occasionally and a few adventurous lambs that would hop over the neighbour's wall ; the ewes are hobbled so don't stray far.

On my return from the foray north I had visited the old village of Idanha a Velha with its Roman remains but it was a grey day and the place was deserted. A night at Vila Velha de Rodao saw the sun emerge as I enjoyed a cider on a terrace overlooking the much swollen Tejo river.

Back at Marvao Gary was ready for his return to the UK although a strike by TAP in Lisbon and Border Force at Manchester added a measure of uncertainty so I was content to settle down for a peaceful ten days or so. We had noticed that some of the camp site power was down so Joao arranged for the local electrician to inspect - he diagnosed that the fault lay in the mains supply and within a couple of hours the power company turned up with a cherry picker and repaired a damaged cable that ran through a cork oak.

 

I took off on the bike to explore local megalithic relics that are now part of a signed route and sat at various dolmens reflecting on how significant these memorials were to an ancient civilisation that spread right across Spain, Portugal, France and even in to the far reaches of west Wales - had there been a recorded history left it would I'm sure have revealed a surprisingly advanced society.

I cycled up to Marvao early one morning as Santo Antonio was in the fog and was rewarded with some excellent photographic opportunities as the mists swirled and lifted sporadically. At one point the conditions combined to create a brockenspectre and by the time I returned to the site the sun had burnt off the cloud and I relaxed in the hot sunshine.

 Another ride took me down to Beira station once more and then on to an old chafurdao which would have originally served as a shepherds' hut and then a livestock shelter with a circular water trough carved in to the granite.

A friendly pig with a litter of 3 seemed to enjoy the attention as I pedalled back to base and had the two dogs over the days that Joao was working. He'd also called round with his Mum who I've known for a few years now and she enjoyed an insight in to my previous life in Wales as we devoured a Bola Rei - the traditional Portuguese Christmas cake in the cosy kitchen.

Before long Gary was safely back and I took advantage of extra hands on deck to remove the potentially brittle tailgate shower trim from the van. This enabled me to diagnose the fault with the tailgate lock that had not been engaging - the latch was slightly out of alignment and easily rectified by the application of Localised Uniform Momentary Pressure - a lump hammer to the uninitiated.

All was soon back in place and later that night I was outside in my super warm down jacket well before dawn to watch the Quarantids meteor shower in the northern skies.

I decided to relocate for a couple of nights up to the aire at Marvao for some night photographs so loaded up the van and set off initially planning to spend the day round at the Povoa barragem in the sun. However the high water levels meant that the network of shore side tracks were underwater and after almost getting bogged down I headed round to the main access point alongside the newly refurbished, and empty, aire.

I'd seen 6 Spanish vans parked up on a patch of land near Beira and saw that the new payment and access system with an app generated Q code to raise the barrier was out of order.

Anyway after a lovely couple of hours I went round to Castelo de Vide where some new sculptures adorned the square in front of the large church. Up at the castle the keep has, I think, been spoilt by adding glazing to the four huge windows, similarly at Marvao a large CCTV camera has detracted from the simple lines of that lofty keep. So often improvements such as information boards, safety notices and interactive panels detract from the very features they represent, and more often than not seem to be out of order.

I watched as a tractor with a back box full of rubble reversed up ramps on to a waiting lorry - the potential for disaster seemed  high but at the fourth attempt all was well.

The aire at Marvao has a wonderful view across to Santo Antonio and away to Spain and is located alongside the convent so it's a short walk up through one of the gates in the castle walls in to the village. As the sun set the castle illuminations began to work their magic but few people lingered long enough to get the full effect and I walked back to the van through deserted streets for a cosy night with a couple of other vans nearby. I spent the last day visiting the newly expanded museum, shared lunch with two French girls on the only part of the O Castelo terrace that was in full sun and returned for a final sunset in a place that I enjoy returning to every time.

 

On Friday Gary, Joao and I were joined by John a sprightly local expat to undertake the annual burn of brash, prunings and scrap wood as required under local regs to reduce the impact of summer wildfires.

We made good progress but moving the huge slimy mound of California poke weed, an invasive species akin to knotweed and Himalayan balsam combined, left my clothes filthy so Gary was kind enough to offer me use of his washing machine as I showered and spruced up for a final meal at the excellent Chinese buffet in Portalegre.

I called at the DIY shop for some Hammerite, a brush and masking tape as my wheel arches are just showing signs of rust on the lower leading edges - I did this on the old van and it lasted years. Incidentally after passing it on 5 years ago it is still running and passing MOT's but has only clocked up 11,000 miles. I put 220k on in a decade! I also did a quick shop and then went to the bike shop for new disc pads front and rear - the owner recognised me as the English guy who came in for a brake lever and walked out with a whole bike - paid for of course.

I had planned to stay on a riverside aire at Arranches but it had been severely damaged by the pre Christmas floods and was closed. Thus I moved on to Terrugem where a cluster of vans including 4/5 Brits were parked up and had a quiet night.

Yesterday I arrived here at Monsaraz a cliff top village rather like Marvao but with a view across the huge reservoir to the east.  I'd hoped to stay at Terena which had a small aire at £4/ night including hook up and wifi but the access was via a Q code from the Outdoor-Routes.pt website which was beyond frustrating to use - to enter your DOB required scrolling back through every month for in my case almost 63 years ie 750 times.... Then the registration email contained a broken link and starting from scratch with an alternative email required my DOB again. Eventually an email with a usable link arrived so I reserved my spot, clicked on card payment and was duly informed 'service not available' so gave up and headed here.

On a cool blustery afternoon I walked in to the village but it wasn't conducive to good photographs and today is similar so I've taken advantage of a quiet aire, the heater and a good mobile signal to update the blog. Whilst still using a Lyca SIM I've decided to pay the £2 a day charge levied by 3 which gives me a chance to use some of my 12Gb a month EU roaming allowance in one big data hungry day.

Mandy arrives a little earlier than planned in a fortnight at Faro giving us the chance to enjoy Seville together so I will head slowly south with more settled weather arriving tomorrow so my next post will probably be from the aire conveniently located right next to the runway......

Piccies here as always

December's Dash South

Boarding the ferry was slow but straightforward enough and whilst my cabin was large and comfortable it wasn't the bespoke luxury I remembered from the 2014 sailing - Brittany Ferries now just offer these slightly larger cabins with access to the Commodore Lounge that now has the spectacular forward facing views and provides a steady supply of drinks and snacks throughout the crossing - well worth the extra cost.

 

 

As always leaving Portsmouth was a fascinating experience with one of our two aircraft carriers at anchor with the usual 24 hour police presence alongside. The other is laid up in Rosyth with a propellor issue - so much money wasted on these projects whilst health and social care suffer. Similarly Portsmouth itself seemed to be making little effort to reduce it's energy consumption - surely this should go hand in hand with its Low Emission Zone, which incidentally ignores the damage caused by the ferries and naval vessels.

 Anyway I settled in for what would fortunately prove to be a very calm crossing, brief phone signal as we passed close to the Brittany coast allowed a quick catch up before I resumed my regular visits to the CL for delicious food and a glass of wine or three - last year's journey had been so unpleasant that I failed to make use of any of the onboard dining facilities.

 

A good evening meal was provided for in the fare (£500 one way which is a significant increase but avoids the lengthy drive through a chilly winter France) and I settled in for a comfortable second night before we docked in Santander at daybreak.

Disembarkation and border control were swift so before long the sat nav was guiding me out on to the motorway heading south, avoiding toll roads as usual as those charges can soon mount up.

With a good getaway and only a six hour journey time indicated I messaged Gary to say I would be arriving a day early and headed across the interior meseta on again largely empty roads.

At Casceres I filled up with supplies at the large Carrefour and stopped for cash at Valencia D'Alcantara where using the ATM conversion would have given £30 less on a withdrawal of 300 euros : always proceed 'without conversion' and in shops select pay in local currency, usually a numbered button on the device.

Camping Asseiceira looked as lovely as ever with heavy recent rains leaving the rivers and streams full with some standing water in the fields. I was soon tucked away in my usual spot and after offloading the bikes settled in for the night.

The following day I organised the van, caught up with Gary and took a walk in to the village via the country tracks to see what little had changed. Post Brexit our UK phone roaming is not only limited to 12G a month (despite my unlimited date package) but there is also, with '3' at least, a £2/day unlock charge for use which includes calls or texts - thank you the Brexiteers, yet again.

 

Anyway on the Friday Gary, Joao and myself went in to Portalegre for an excellent Chinese buffet - 9 euros for all you can eat and then to the local electronics store as Gary needed printer cartridges. Whilst there I decided to get a Lycamobile SIM for £8 with 20G of use valid for 30 days - my intended time in Portugal that also includes 12G of EU roaming should it still be valid when I move on to Spain. Back in the van I then put this SIM in my old unlocked Honor 8, turned on the wifi hotspot and then put my regular phone in to airplane mode and switched on the wifi. Thus I now have excellent coverage with no daily fee and whilst phonecalls, texts and OTPs won't arrive most people use Whatsapp or email and I can verify most transactions by fingerprint. If the SIM expires I will just buy another one for Spain and then eventually Morocco as whilst the initial bundle is a good deal ( to get you in) the top ups are less generous. An amusing byline to this process is that the number is obviously recycled so I have had (and ignored) erratic calls from India and Portugal and been part of various Whatsapp Groups including the Lisbon Flat Letters and the Olive Pickers - all blocked or deleted and now arriving less often.

 

 

Heavy rain that had encompassed my first few days (whilst the UK shivered

 in the first cold snap of winter) lifted on the Saturday so I enjoyed a 37 mile ride through Beira and its station to the Povoa e Meadas reservoir where the bankside mimosa has been heavily cut back. Staying overnight is now restricted to the official aire which after an expensive refurb now offers showers, water top up and electricity for a very reasonable 5 euros a night but of course parking up in the fenced compound loses some of the magic of pitching round the water's edge. Round at the dam excess water was roaring out in to the valley and a solitary stork had arrived early for the nesting season. New lambs in the field were enjoying the fresh grass - with an average temperature of 15-17 degrees it was growing well and hopefully all the reservoirs and aquifers will fill after a long summer drought.

 

 

 As it would be a few days until Gary sets off for the UK I decided on a week long excursion so stocked up in Portalegre where I also found Camping Gaz 907s at the Bricomarche for half the UK price - about £16 before heading north calling at Penela with its church contained within the castle walls and overnighting  in a park up occupied by a number of semi permanent Portuguese vans and a large MAN 4x4 expedition truck that looked unlikely to be crossing the Serenghetti any time soon.

The schist villages in the Serra De Lousa were fascinating as they clung on to the steep valley sides - the heavy rains had caused some slips and rockfalls and I found a lovely camping area up in the mountains for another visit.

HIgh mountain roads took me through stunning scenery - a large HGV was delivering part of a turbine tower and had reversed a long way up one of the access roads to negotiate a hairpin with its independently steered rear axle cluster : very impressive.

Thus the region has a thought provoking mix of old mills and new turbines - one cluster of twenty or so of the former had been refurbished to provide unique accommodation. However they and the adjacent restaurant were closed and could well have been a victim of the Covid related downturn in tourism. 

After a night in Poiares on a perfectly adequate, if barren looking, aire I arrived at the southern end of the Ecopiste de Dao cycle track. I had called at a smallholding that offered overnight parking but there was no one around and their parking area was, despite being gravel, super saturated and I nearly got bogged down - indeed on leaving I heard a thump as I crossed a rough bit and later discovered the grey water tap had taken a hit - fortunately no real damage as the spout was already crook so I can still seal it with a bottle stopper!

I cycled up to Tondela and back on a sunny afternoon and then moved up to Viseu for two nights to allow me to cycle from the northern point back to Tondela with a couple of welcome cafe stops in old repurposed station buildings. Viseu is a large city but has a compact old centre that I walked in to to enjoy the Christmas displays, brightly lit shops and decorated streets and alleys.

It was a quiet second night and before long I was away in to the mountains again with more remote villages including Piodao and lovely swooping roads. I stopped for lunch at the Santa Luzia barragem and would have stayed the night but with Monday forecast to be wet I decided to move on stopping briefly at the viewpoint for the dam. Here a spectacular waterfall over the spillway was visible from the top of the adjacent via ferrata. It looked a really good one and I was sorely tempted to give it a go. However soloing is not recommended so it will have to wait for another opportunity and I dropped down to the newly opened aire at Pampilhosa da Serra where I am enjoying good wifi, 16 amp hook up and an excellent facilities block for a very reasonable 6 euros a night. There was even a jet wash so the van looks clean and tidy after the the last couple of months of muddy mountains in Wales, Cumbria and Portugal.

I prefer wild camping but also feel that if local communities provide good, well cared for facilities it is only fair to support their initiative. The Campaign For Real Aires in the UK is trying to educate local authorities, National Parks and utility companies as to the benefits of welcoming the ever expanding van life community rather than adopting a default position of zero tolerance.

Many of those areas experiencing difficulties in recruiting seasonal workers due to a lack of affordable accommodation should look at this issue as it could well be a partial solution to the problem.

 Anyway I am warm and comfortable here and will return to Marvao tomorrow for my Christmas/New Year fortnight so until the next post I wish you all a Happy Festive Break - enjoy more pics  HERE

 

A November to Remember

In recent years to reduce my carbon footprint I have left my winter departure date until December so November is usually a month to put everything in order on various fronts before I head off.

Thus in early November the van had an MOT, despite the one in June to ensure that all is well for what could be a fairly extended trip. I had the gearbox and engine oil/filter changed, air con regassed and a lower suspension ball joint replaced before heading back to Wales almost immediately. I would have liked to spend longer with Mandy's brother who was over from Canada but as he tested positive for Covid soon after arrival I couldn't risk me succumbing and thus being inelligible for my forthcoming booster.

After a day looking over a friend's demountable rig at Talybont I headed down to Penwyllt in the Brecon Beacons.  I stayed over at the the South Wales Caving Club Headquarters after a brief but enjoyable trip in to the top entrance of Ogof Ffynnon Ddu where I shot a short Go Pro video. As Go Pro no longer provide a video editing suite I used an open source online version with reasonable success given its complexity.

During our trip we reflected on the selfless actions of dozens of cavers a year ago who had extracted a casualty from the far and constricted reaches of Cwm Dwr - look for it on BBC IPlayer : Trapped: 54 Hours Underground. 

Good fireworks at the hut provided entertainment and on the Sunday I headed down to Swansea to see an MBA colleague as the Area defibrillator needed checking for a possible software update, fortunately the latest version is installed so there was no need for it to be returned.

Ian, Arthur and I enjoyed a day out to Llandrindod Wells to visit the excellent National Cycle Museum, this was instead of a trip on the Heart of Wales line which had been affected by flooding.

 

The following week saw various medical check ups and tests plus a Covid booster and pneumonia jab before I had a couple of days in Llangurrig on hook up. I enjoyed a night ride up to the nearby bothy, Fenix had kindly replaced a burnt out cycle light under warranty and the replacement performed well as I followed the dark trails and tracks.

Two nights at Dethick gave me a chance to catch up with Pete and Nina who are still patiently waiting for their new van and Mandy arrived after a local walk to join us for a lovely evening in their Winnebago.

We are lucky enough to have a fortnight in the Lake District each year - a true taste of luxury so decided to head off a few days early to explore an oft overlooked area of coastal Lancashire.

Thus we arrived at the old port of Glasson where the pub was part of the Britstop scheme and on a murky night took a quick walk round the docks, marina and canal basin. Next day we came across the smoke house which had a remarkable range of smoked fish, game, meats and cheeses plus a host of other chutneys, jams, jellies and crackers. We stocked up before moving on to Carnforth Station where we enjoyed a decent coffee and cake in the 'Brief Encounter' cafe before enjoying the museum dedicated to this classic film. We watched it in the mini cinema before moving on to Beetham where The Wheatsheaf also allows stays and we were booked in for a very good meal. The sturdy church is worth a visit and the following morning we walked over to the local woodland which includes the Fairy Steps : an interesting feature in the local limestone.

 

We then moved on to park above Arnside and walk up to the viewpoint on Arnside Knott where the Lakeland fells were visible but rising up in to low cloud. The expanse of Morecambe Bay at low tide stretched in to the distance with a low sun reflecting off the exposed flats. A lovely coast path took us in to Arnside itself where the Cumbrian coast trains rumbled across the viaduct we had crosssed a year ago on a day out whilst staying at the Dent Snow Huts.

 

From there it was a short run to the Plumgarth's Farm Shop just north of Kendal, another Britstop, although the Gateway Inn across the road might be better for larger vans. After a quiet night we bought a few more goodies as a thank you, did a big shop for the next two weeks in town and then called at the Lakeland store at Windermere which is always worth a look round.

As we turned in to the Langdale Estate all signs of last year's storm damage were long gone and a replacement Land Rover sat where the previous one had been crushed. As always the lodge was warm and clean and we were soon unloaded and settled in.

Sunday saw a good walk up the Great Langdale Valley with blue skies and autumn colours enhancing the already striking view of the various pikes, Bowfell and Crinkle Crags. At the NT campsite we made enquiries for the following weekend as Mandy's brother was likely to stay and then headed up over Side Pike with its narrow squeeze and returned via Lingmoor Fell after a heavy shower caught us out just before lunch.

 

Over the next fortnight we enjoyed a walk over to Ambleside, a bike ride down to Coniston and back up the east shore using some of the new traffic free routes now available in the area, a similar ride down to Ambleside and back via Grasmere and a tough climb behind Loughrigg, a walk to Grasmere over Silver How and a number of other local walks. Friends joined us for the middle weekend with an excellent meal at the Britannia and Mandy's brother appeared on the Monday but otherwise we enjoyed the place to ourselves as in recent years the break has been overshadowed by events on both sides of our families.

The pool opening hours are currently limited by staff shortages but we headed over most evenings for a swim and soothing visits to the steam room. As a treat in our final week we also took advantage of the spa deal giving us the opportunity for more indulgence, the remarkable experience of the outdoor pool and a glass of fizz. In appreciation of our good fortune I also sent the equivalent amount to wateraid, a charity I began supporting in a different life thirty years ago when on the farm I began to really appreciate how lucky people are in this country to have clean, reliable water on tap.

24 hours in Sheffield gave me the chance to repack the van for the winter trip and catch up with Penny over a curry before heading down to Winchester. The impressive cathedral was beautifully lit for Christmas although the ubiquitous Christmas market occupying dozens of wooden cabins in the rear courtyard seemed as always at odds with the original spirit of this period.

Anyway I am now lined up on the hardstanding at Portsmouth awaiting the 21.30 sailing to Santander which should arrive after a 33 hour crossing. The weather looks more settled than last year so I hope to be able to enjoy the Commodore cabin, reserved as a treat to myself for once. 

Arrival near Marvao in Portugal is scheduled for Thursday evening so the next post will be from there.

Piccies from November here.

OCTOBER 'OUSE SITTING

Our time near Sennybridge soon came to an end as friends returned safely from Dubrovnik but we had fitted in a good walk to the top of Fan Gyhirych, a summit above the Upper Swansea Valley that featured in my first visit to the Brecon Beacons in 1980 and was instrumental in my decision to move to the area a decade later and latterly provided a literal and figurative highpoint for the Brecon Beast Cycle Event we used to route over the tough estate track. To the south the hills of North Devon were visible perhaps 40 miles away but a good 150 mile drive for the following week. We also walked near Talybont before calling on friends who have a very capable 4x4 demountable camper and provide very good cake!

As I had a week to wait for my flu jab we decided on a short trip to the Gower Peninsula so were soon parked at the Oxwich Bay Hotel that very kindly allows vans to park up in the rear car park. We walked round the huge bay to Three Cliffs with a heavy shower catching us out half way round. However the sun emerged and was strong enough to have us dried out on our return before we walked round the headland discovering an abandoned camping spot deep in the woodland where judging by the amount and age of a large pile of litter someone had sat out Covid in near total isolation.

Next day we caught two almost empty buses round to Rhossili above its amazing beach and returned via the coast path to Port Eynon and then Oxwich. Strong winds whipped up the seas and created huge swirls of foam as we neared the mediaeval structure of Culver Hole before dropping in to Port Eynon passing the ruins of the salt works. A very sharp shower above Mewslade Bay had soaked us but again a warm sun emerged to have us dry before we got back in time for a meal in the restaurant. An excellent meal was slightly tarnished by a loud mouthed drunk at a nearby table who was embarrassing himself and his friend - all credit to the young staff members who eventually persuaded him to retire to the bar although perhaps not serving him his last four pints of cider would have been more sensible.

A wedding in the adjacent marquee seemed to be going well although again the demon drink convinced two guys to head out to the beach, strip off and brave the waters albeit not for long. We enjoyed a walk after dinner under an almost full moon and passed the Michelin starred Beach House restaurant which seemed to be doing well.

 Crossing over the Gower Ridge of Cefn Bryn we stopped to admire the Maen Ceti burial chamber looking back towards the Llanelli coast and beyond to the Beacons. Down at Loughor we parked up and cycled through Dunvant and Killay to the Mumbles. It was a hot and sunny day so we headed round to the pier for refreshments and watched an excavator crushing the demolished remains of the Copperfish Restaurant that had burnt down recently. A pleasant ride took us past Swansea to the ongoing redevelopments of SA1 before a return via the marina to the van. 'The Secret' provided a good lunch sat outside overlooking the wide sweep of Swansea Bay before we then moved on to the peace and quiet of Kidwelly Quay where a German plated van was also parked up and locals were fishing as the highest tide of the year accompanied a spectacular sunset. The occupier of a moored yacht took the opportunity to row over as at low tides the mudflats are extensive and we passed a very peaceful night in the warm and comfy van.

 

Sunday's ride through Pembrey and Burry Port back to Loughor was enjoyable although a cool wind had picked up - we met some endurance horse riders and enjoyed the scenery looking back across to Gower. That evening after a shop at Tesco's in Carmarthen we headed inland to the Caravan and Camping Club site at Rhandirmyn for the usual service stop including good long hot showers - the site shuts at the end of October and was very quiet which suited us and at £12/night was good value. The washing machine was also a bonus and we left our stuff drying in the warm sun as we cycled up to the nearby mountain bike trail at Cwm Rhaedr - a steady climb up a forest trail leads to a good red run of mostly single track back down to the car park which Mandy tackled valiantly. After lunch we cycled up to the RSPB reserve at Dinas, walked through the gorge and climbed up to the cave on a sunny afternoon.

We called at Brecon to see Jan's family who are over from Switzerland before returning to Sennybridge for my jab and a catch up and overnight stay before setting off for North Devon. We broke the journey at the old Aust Services on the original Severn Crossing and walked across the bridge as the brown waters of the Severn finally spilled in to the Bristol Channel. Our destination for the night was Watchet where the town council allow overnighting in vans down near the marina - well done WTC - others need to wake up and follow your initiative as van owners bring money and trade to these places, especially out of season. £5.50 for 24 hours is very reasonable and we wandered across to the West Somerset Steam Railway station to get tickets along to Minehead in a couple of hours time which gave us an opportunity to familiarise ourselves with the harbour and small town. A pleasant chug past Blue Anchor brought us to Minehead with enough time to enjoy the station, browse some second hand books and watch the engine run round before we steamed back to Watchet.

We walked in to find a pub and settled on The Pebbles, a quirky cider bar with a warm and cosy atmosphere. They didn't do food but do encourage you to bring in your meal from the adjacent chippy which we did - we also got chatting to someone carrying a lute who was happy to play a few very entertaining tunes adding to an already memorable day. Later we watched a charter fishing boat which had been waiting offshore for the incoming tide to allow them to surge in through the narrow harbour entrance and over the cill which normally maintains a static water level in the marina.

After a very quiet night we walked down to the harbour and watched a power dredger circling slowly round the pontoons - apparently it dislodges accumulated silt just before high tide which is then washed out by the retreating currents which explained why for a few days the harbour was being allowed to drain. The East Quay arts and cafe space is a bold attempt to inject new life in to this very appealing town and we enjoyed the various exhibitions and were fascinated by the hand made paper making. Four stylish accommodation pods are available and would be an interesting experience in winter.

Another quirky highlight was the Radio Museum - well worth a visit - please give it a try......

  

After an unexpected coffee with a couple in the adjacent van who were just about to embark on full time van life (good luck guys !) we headed west via the ascent of the mighty Porlock Hill, long descent of Countisbury Hill and twisting switchbacks of Lynmouth and Lynton to reach our next base for a week in The Valley of Rocks where Greg and Alex had prepared our self contained annexe with stylish en suite to their usual high standards.

We took note of the routines for two dogs, three chickens and a hive of bees before they left for a night in Bristol and an early flight to Girona.

We have enjoyed a week of remarkably good weather giving me time to give the van curtains their first wash in probably twenty years and repair a leak in the fresh water tank that arose after some rough tracks in Spain five years ago - with luck the Quicksteel applied carefully with a mesh strengthener and the tank pre- warmed using a hair dryer will do the job, if not I will revert to the cork and PTFE that has sufficed for long enough.

A tough ride out of town took us up on to Exmoor where we stopped to reflect on life (and death) at remote Hoar Oak Cottage ( www. hoaroakcottage.org ) before we crossed the river and returned via the Lyn Valley to Lynmouth leaving us a steep ride/walk/push back up to Lynton.

Another tough ride took us up to Caffyns Cross with a view of the Lynton and Barnstaple Railway steam train leaving Woody Bay Station before we shot down to the Hunter's Inn for coffee on a remarkably warm morning. Fortunately the contractors core drilling prior to the construction of a new bridge over the Heddon allowed us across giving us a steady climb up to Trentishoe Down before we looped round to Parracombe for lunch in the church yard. At Dean we took a superb bridlepath down to Lee Abbey past Sixacre Farm and returned in time to enjoy the sunny conservatory as the dogs chased each other round the garden. We were rewarded with an excellent evening in the Oak Room Tapas Bar at Lynton - so nice to be able to walk to such a good venue.

Yesterday saw a walk down to Lynmouth and up Countisbury Hill for lunch at the Blue Ball before dropping back to Lynmouth via Wind Hill high above Watersmeet. I had put a ship finder app on my phone and was kept absorbed by following the tracking history of the various vessels in the area as we soaked up yet another warm afternoon sun. The remarkable cliff railway soon had us back up to the streets of Lynton - it's always a fascinating experience.

Today I have dropped Mandy off at Taunton for a train back to Sheffield as her brother has come over from Canada and will have my last day here tomorrow before heading over to the New Forest for a few days - it was an afternoon of torrential rain so we have been very lucky over the last few weeks - things are dropping in to place for the winter departure with my Covid boost imminent, a van MOT and a few service issue to be addressed and our traditional fortnight in the Lake District to look forward to - that may well be my next opportunity to post so until then  : more pics here.

 

September Song

 A night on an aire adjacent to another impressive boat lift allowed me to service the van facilities one more time before I arrived at thr Hook of Holland on the Friday night, a day earlier than planned but not bad after 73 days away.

A long run of parking spaces looked out over the shipping lanes leading to Rotterdam port and I settled in to watch the numerous tankers, freighters and ferries passing by on a sunny afternoon. The five allocated camper places were full but numerous other vans were lined up for the night so I nipped out to get fuel and food before settling down. 

 

At 9pm however two policewomen began knocking on doors telling us all we would need to move on - they had no idea where we should all go this late on a Friday so most people were pretty annoyed as there were still dozens of empty spaces. Anyway I had spotted long term parking down at the Stena terminal half a mile away so relocated there at 5 euros a night which was fine. I later showed a German couple where I had moved to as they had returned to their van after a meal to find a sticker on their screen indicating a 150 euro fine if they did not move  - they were very grateful and later dropped off a few cans of beer. I slept well and spent the Saturday walking the length of the breakwater in warm sunshine - at the terminal I had tried to bring my booking forward but being a holiday weekend at the end of the season all sailings were full.

 

Thus after another quiet night I moved the hundred yards to join the queue and was soon aboard for the 7 hour crossing in calm conditions - the dockers' strike at Felixstowe meant that the quays were empty and the cranes stood silently as we arrived on time. Customs and Border facilities were a bit slow but by 9 I was whizzing along empty roads, including the M25 and M4 before crossing in to Wales and arriving at my tuck away in Brecon at 1am after a speedy 270 miles.

Next day I called on a friend who has been very ill with pneumonia and was shocked at how frail he looked despite being on antibiotics and resting. I then headed up to Lower Chapel where I was to farm sit for ten days as friends went off to Alderney to celebrate a big birthday.

After a couple of months away and the bogging incident I decided to remove everything from the van in to their barn and have a good sweep and sort out. Down at the local weighbridge the van came in at 2300kg, some 500kg under its MTPLW but once loaded up was almost at the upper limit of 2800kg.

However I had come across very little that I would happily leave out so was content to fit some top quality Michelin Agilis Cross Climate Tyres at ATS ready for my winter trip - these will meet the requirement for winter tyres should I head across colder climes : unlikely!

I visited the new Brecon Museum and Library with a neighbour whilst they were being fitted and found it much more interesting than on a first visit last year.

My two electrical issues were resolved - the fridge fuse holder leading to the relay needed changing and the leisure circuit isolation relay just had a loose contact that needed tweaking so all is now well. I have an early MOT booked for November to give me the potential for a longer trip next time if Morocco stays open - unfortunately the geographical definition of Europe has changed so I will now be obliged to get insurance at Tangier at an apparently exorbitant £150/ month ; it is a cheap country to stay in though so this won't be a major issue but I hope the UK insurance provider will agree to a 3 month suspension of my policy as it will not be valid there. I'm also having a gearbox oil change as the van will have done 100k miles, plus engine oil and filter and a lower wishbone ball joint picked up on the June MOT.

Whilst at Lower Chapel the team gathered for a long weekend with a good walk in the Beacons above Ystradfellte reservoir and the classic loop around the mountains with a ride from Brecon to Talybont, over Torpantau to Pontsticill and back via the Gap Road. Apart from Phil losing a derailleur on the final ascent all went well - the station cafe at Pontsticill providing a welcome brew and the scenery was as good as ever.

Sunday saw 3 of us ride from Gilwern to Cwmbran along the canal before following the old railway up to Blaenafon and then descending through the Clydach gorge - another classic and enjoyable ride.

Once Jan and Ian were safely back from an enjoyable week I joined the badminton session but within minutes had ripped my shoulder so retired to the comforts of the van before relocating to my favourite site at Llangurrig. En route I called at LCB Bothy in the Elan Valley where all was well but the water level particularly low as there is maintenance work under way on the top dam.

A ride through to Nant Syddion and Nant Rhys bothies was as ever a tough one with much ascent but both bothies were in good order and the new ty bach at NR was a credit to the team of volunteers. I met a crew repairing a turbine blade using a 50m reach cherry picker and was interested to hear how varied their work in renewables is.

An overnight in Derbyshire after a visit to my brother in Shropshire pretty much rounded up a hectic session of catching up with friends old and new - Pete and Nina are looking forward to taking possession of their new van and now have a new serviced location to store their existing unit to use as a base.

Up in Sheffield at long last it was a busy day sorting out various affairs both family and personal but we were able to get away on the Wednesday with my Baltic round trip amounting to 6000 miles and called on family in York before staying at a Britstop near Pickering. The North York Moors Railway station looked very smart and we managed to visit the coach repair shed where a beautiful vintage dining car was being restored to its former glory.

The New Inn at Crompton had a large leafy car park and we enjoyed an excellent meal before retiring for a quiet night.

A twenty mile ride round Dalby Forest offered good views as we headed north from Pickering - the centre will be well worth returning to one day.

Thursday and Friday nights were spent with friends from Penrith in a holiday cottage at Alnwick giving us the opportunity for a linear coastal walk passing Dunstanburgh Castle and Craster. An Indian that night in Alnwick was memorable and we departed after an all too short a stay for Bamburgh where we eventually managed to tuck in behind Mandy's brother and his wife in their van with a stunning view across the rough grey North Sea and across to both Holy Island and the Farne Islands as well of course the spectacular castle.

 

We donned wetsuits after a walk and braved the rough seas for an exhilarating hour or so being tossed around in the foaming waters. A walk in to the village gave us the chance to visit the Grace Darling Museum which recorded the heroic achievements of the lighthouse keeper's daughter following a ship wreck.

A drive across to Coquetdale in the Cheviots saw us parked for the night in a remote spot at the head of the lonely valley but next morning despite it being the Queen's funeral we heard a vehicle turn up quite early. It turned out to be army instructors supervising a tough selection exercise and before long heavily laden soldiers appeared on the skyline dropping down to the RV point only to have to return up the long incline to head for the next checkpoint.

We were told it was OK to cross the Otterburn Ranges which made reaching Kielder Castle via the forest drive a much shorter journey than expected so we were soon set up in the top car park where overnighting is being trialled on a temporary basis at £10/night.

Thus we set off on the circuit of Kielder Water which is around 26 miles in total. It was a lovely day and we stopped to help a guy out with a puncture before carrying on down to the dam. Beyond there at one of the visitor centres there was one of the more remarkable art installations in the shape of a large underground burrow which had very little lighting, sculpted cork lined walls and played a series of sound tracks meant to mimic the living experience of burrowing animals.

 

 

 

Back at Kielder Castle we had the car park to ourselves apart from one other van and enjoyed a quiet night with no phone, internet or TV signal.

 

 

One of the medium grade off road routes occupied the next morning before we set off south calling at Hexham for a break and a shop before heading for Beamish Open Air Museum. In Hexham we stopped at an interesting cafe that is run by recovering drug addicts - the two girls behind the counter were humbly frank about their life stories and were grateful for the new start offered by the Betel charity.

 

 

Our campsite en route to Beamish had superb views but no loo disposal which was a shame but we had power and water and enjoyed the elevated location.

Beamish was excellent and although a timed admission was required the ticket was an annual one and included all transport within the 350 acre site on the old trams and busses that ran regularly between the attractions. We started at the old pit head adjacent to the colliery village, moved on to the church and two manor houses before reaching the Victorian village. All the staff were dressed to match the displays and seemed happy to be working in such an intriguing setting. After returning to the pit village and passing through a row of terraced houses with backyards and outside privvies we were amazed to find that all the structures had been moved and faithfully recreated on a once barren site.

 

It was such a remarkable place that we decided to return the following day so left for a Britstop which we decided wasn't too practical so instead pitched up late at a small Certificated Site run by a young couple with a new baby. Infuriatingly they told us that a visitor the previous night had left without paying - it was only a tenner, how low can people stoop....

So with a good service stop behind us we returned to Beamish on a cooler day so were grateful for the coal fires in the old station waiting room and other period houses. Thus we covererd all of Beamish that was open and left somewhat amused that the 50's housing project being installed was as good as in our own lifetimes!

Another quiet Britstop at Whytton off the A66 near Scotch Corner was another success - we had decided not to use one right on this busy main road - and had another excellent meal although the car park would struggle to accommodate larger vans.

A flying visit back to Sheffield to deal with paperwork gave us a service and laundry option before we moved on to Bakewell to ride the Monsal Trail on a sunny evening. At Miller's Dale the old goods warehouse has been restored and incorporates old photos beneath a roof with an impressive array of solar panels. From here it was a short hop to Dethick for another visit to Pete and Nina with the opportunity to climb the steep inclines from the Cromford Canal up to Middleton Top and then cut across for a circuit of Carsington Water with the obligatory tea stop at the cafe overlooking the depleted waters. That night they treated us to an excellent meal at 'The Dog at Pentrich' before on the Sunday we walked along the canal to view the cottage being restored by Derbyshire Wildlife Trust as a visitor and interpretation centre.

Quiet roads on the Sunday afternoon had us smoothly down to Hay on Wye for a quiet night in the large car park - free with all day parking only £4 for smaller vans, £8 for 3t plus. Unfortunately Hay Castle was shut for the snagging I had noticed on my first visit. However the town has many other attractions and kept us happily occupied that day and the following morning.

Tuesday saw us dropping briefly in to Lower Chapel for me to collect both my trolley jacks before a large food shop in preparation for our week above Sennybridge house sitting for friends who were off to Dubrovnik for a much deserved holiday. Our duties cover 6 chickens, two horses, one adorable spaniel and a polytunnel all surrounded by superb views south to most of the Brecon Beacons.

Once they had got going on Wednesday morning we set off on a walk over local tops but high bracken and a missing footbridge made a long diversion necessary so the 12 miles was rather more than we had expected. We went in to Brecon that evening with Mandy going to the pictures whilst I returned to the badminton court and was pleased to see a host of new faces replacing a few of the longer term players who have various injuries and ailments.

A quieter day on Thursday suited us before we headed over to Lower Chapel for a chilli at Jan and Ian's enjoyed by their cosy wood burner. Friday was a shocker weather wise but we joined former neighbours of mine at the farm for a good meal and catch up at The White House in Sennybridge - good food but a chilly dining room.

Yesterday the weather changed dramatically once more giving us the ideal opportunity to head for the summit of Fan Gyhirych accessed by the long Cnewr estate track over which in previous years we had routed 800 or so victims of the Brecon Beast charity mountain bike event. The impressive glacial cwm has a history for me going back forty years as it featured in my first ever visit to these beautiful mountains whilst training in Southampton.

Today has seen an annual memorial vintage tractor run pass the end of the lane - perhaps more than 50 vehicles chugged up the long hill - after which I enjoyed a few hours tidying the polytunnel remembering the happy hours I had spent in mine as long as thirty years ago. I feel very fortunate to have experienced so many amazing and varied opportunities over the years : 3 years training on the edge of the New Forest were followed by a decade in Bristol where I discovered the joys (?) of caving around the UK and beyond and took two extended cycle tours in India and Nepal which were particular highlights. The 15 years renovating and transforming a smallholding in the Beacons were in themselves a way of life attuned to the vagaries of nature and the seasons since when I have lived more or less 17 years in the van with a big OZ/NZ trip, a run up to the Nordkapp and repeated visits to Morocco, Portugal and Spain other highlights.

My journey south for the winter should begin in December but before then we have a few more days in the Beacons, will revisit West Wales briefly and then head to north Devon for another house sit before the annual trip in mid November to the Lake District.

I will post again a few weeks - as always additional photos sit here.

South through Latvia. Lithuania, Poland and Germany

 Riga by night was an enchanting place and as a huge new moon rose over the city a waterside barrage of fireworks added to the imagery.

 

I had cycled round the new development on the bank across from the old city with the modern National Library being the most substantial and eye catching building.

The following day I explored the city more fully and enjoyed the military guarding the war memorial with precision marching, the beautiful churches and parks, another dramatic police convoy, apparently for the Prime Minister and the remarkable Central Market with 4 huge arched buildings devoted separately to fish, meat, vegetables and then anything else.

The coast was followed up to Cape Kolka where I spent a warm peaceful night in a large empty car park and walked along the modest cliff edge with a shallow sea below. The last section of road had been unusually wide and was in fact a secret former Soviet runway.

The pine clad Baltic coast was sublime and the beaches even more so but I came to grief trying to reach one of the wild camping spots as the van became well and truly bogged in a particularly deep section of soft sand. Fortunately my weight saving efforts before leaving had not extended to removing my folding shovel, rescue mats and 12v winch so once these had been retrieved from the bottom of various cupboards and a suitable length of rope selected I tied off to a convenient tree.

Having then dug out all four wheels and placed two mats behind each front (driving wheel) I was able , thanks to the long length of control switch wire gently ease the van out of trouble with the engine assisting the winch. Of course sand got everywhere and it was hot and sticky but I was out soon enough and started reversing perhaps half a mile back to a junction where I then spotted the caution sign hidden by foliage. A different track soon had me on a mile or so of permitted wild camping under the trees but right alongside the beach so I pitched up and took off for the rest of the afternoon on the silvery sands.

A little further south I went to visit the radio telescope at Irbene that had been left by the retreating Soviets who had used three 32m diameter parabolic antennae to eavesdrop on western communication satellites but the complex is being redeveloped albeit rather slowly and all I saw were the numerous and brutally stark accommodation flats in typical Soviet style (or lack thereof) that now lie empty.

Industrial buildings and machinery could spoil the busy and affluent city of Ventspils but their brightly painted forms actually enhance the dock side area and the centre has some delightful old streets and squares plus some quirky pieces of art and sculpture. 

Moving inland to stay at Lake Usma I arrived at a small site where, when the woman in charge did eventually turn up, she turned out to be quite the most miserable of souls, however it was cheap and nice enough to be worth staying and I was soon off on the bike for a circuit of the Lake following a number of gravel tracks which had become badly corrugated as per the outback roads of Australia a decade or more ago. It was lovely scenery though and I arrived back to find the place filling up - mostly guests in the chalets including one family gathering with a guy on a large Harley with a massive sound system whose mission in life was to entertain one and all - fortunately his choice of music was very acceptable - mostly Mozart and Handel : not.

Returning to the Latvian Coast for a final time I called at Liepaja or more accurately Karosta to the north where huge Soviet Naval Defences lined the coast as part of the protection for a massive naval base - again on withdrawal they had been mined but ineffectively with most just lurching alarmingly in to the sea. The area of the base was enormous (several square miles) and the numerous bunkers and accommodation blocks lie in various stages of decline but rising amongst them are the gilded cupolas of St Nicholas Maritime Church which sits in remarkable contrast to the dinginess of the local housing stock.

 

Nearby is a former military prison, originally built as an infirmary but soon repurposed to deal with soldiers' misdemeanours from initially Soviet and subsequently Latvian forces. The guided tour was excellent with the guide dressed and acting as a warder and putting the fear of God in to us with unnerving ease. It is possible to spend a night in a cell and indeed a stag do were about to do so - heaven knows what they had lined up for the groom to be, already dressed in a lurid canary yellow outfit.

Some of the rooms have been brightened up by local artists but still felt claustrophobic.

Across in to Lithuania and again I was inland to visit the Zemaitija National Park - busy as it was a sunny weekend but I found a good spot in a car park by one of the many Lakes and set off for a circuit of two other Lakes to obtain some respite from the 30 plus temperatures.

I also checked out the location of the next day's destination which was a now abandoned Soviet Nuclear Base. Seen from Google Earth the four concrete caps are now easily visible but during the Cold War the existence of this base was a well guarded secret. The caps would roll away on rails to leave the four warheads able to launch from their 30m deep silos each connected deep underground by a network of bombproof tunnels with the communications room, command and control centre, generator room, fuel and propellant storage and living quarters all spread out over six levels. The warheads had been pointed at Norway, Germany, Turkey and the UK and were part of the arsenal dismantled following the SALT negotiations between Reagan and Gorbachev - a very chilling prospect. Having been abandoned for many years most of the metal and other usable equipment and machinery had been repurposed by locals but the whole experience was both fascinating and thought provoking, again with due respect to the situation in Ukraine.

 

Down at Klaipeda and in need of a service night I pulled in at a shaded camp site five miles out of town which was just seeing the last of its weekend crowds leaving - people flock to the area as it is a short walk across to miles of beaches which were still as full as Bournemouth on a Bank Holiday as I cycled round and on in to town to check out the ferry across to the Curonian Spit. Klaipeda centre split by the River Dane was lively and lovely with a full masted schooner moored up and a busy port including the large ferry that crosses the ten minutes or so to the spit every 15 minutes - a return for adult and bike is around £3 although at the other ferry you can take a vehicle which seems pointless and incurs a significant toll for non residents.

Picking my way back through the centre I was tempted by a shady canopy beside a Chinese restaurant and was soon tucking in to prawns and rice washed down with a cold beer. Back at the site it was much quieter and I took advantage of their showers for a longer soak than normal.

In the cool of the morning and ahead of the crowd I was soon back at the ferry terminal and swiftly aboard for a day riding the 30km or so south to Nida beyond which the Spit sits within the Russian oblast of Kaliningrad and the road is blocked. The ride passed through pine woodland with the huge dunes rising from a sublime beach - very much unspoilt and well worth the visit.

 

On my return I stopped for an ice cream and cider in the shade as it was still very warm and was eventually back across the water for the short ride home.

My route deviated east now to get round Kaliningrad and finally leave the Baltic States behind as I re-entered Poland on a small back road that cut through to a lakeside free camping spot. Here for the first time I met border guards, presumably as it was right on the intersection of Poland, Russia and Lithuania but they were friendly enough and after looking at my driving licence sent me on my way - I doubt they could decipher my Welsh address anyway. One looked at my rear tyre which is in need of replacement but still legal - the front ones are fine but the rears seem to wear more quickly, probably due to the weight carried so I may try a slightly higher pressure on the new set once sourced back home. The old van wore the front tyres more quickly but I think that was down to less grip having a lighter engine and narrower profile but these have done 20,000 miles which seems OK.

Anyway the camping spot was perfect on yet another warm evening with two other vans parked away on the grass and I enjoyed watching a combine harvester at work in the adjacent field. One of the many changes over the last two months has been seeing crops go from growth to harvest and the storks from parenting gawky youngsters to gradually heading away on their long journeys south to Spain and North Africa.

Heading across Poland my first destination in a largely empty and unpopulated area was at Gierlotz where the Wilczy Szaniec or Wolf's Lair - Hitler's Bunker - occupies 27 acres of woodland and was camouflaged by planting the flat roofs with trees and shrubs and covering the walkways with camouflage netting that was changed according to the season. A number of enormous bunkers were built for Hitler, Goring, Bormann and Himmler although apparently Bormann disliked the damp, dark airless structures and insisted on living in a fortified house. The bunkers were comprised of rooms encased within 3m of reinforced steel with a 500mm gap full of impact absorbing gravel and then another 3m thick reinforced outer shell. Everywhere was mined in case the place needed to be abandoned and indeed these were detonated on departure doing little more than creating large cracks and toppling the odd roof on its side. Hitler spent some 800 days holed up here which some think may have led to his increasing isolation and mania. It was also the site of the failed assassination attempt by Count Stauffenberg who had left a briefcase bomb in a briefing room that although detonated had been moved by another and the stout wooden table it then stood behind had taken most of the impact. He had fled to Berlin assuming success but was arrested and shot along with about 5000 others though to have been involved or sympathetic to the aim of capitulating to the Allies before Germany suffered further loss and damage.

 

It was a remarkable experience with the awesome size and strength of the structures still hard to pick out amongst the surrounding vegetation. A display in another building gave credit to the heroic Warsaw uprising that yet again has similarities to the bravery of today's Ukrainian forces in a different conflict.

Swieta Lipka's remarkable church contained a stunningly ornate Baroque organ decorated in blues and golds whilst outside a square of cloisters housed 44 stone statues. Back in the car park a lovely old red German coach caught my eye before I moved on to Lidsbark Warminski with its Teutonic riverside castle and turrets reflected in the surrounding waters.

 

That night was spent on an empty aire at Dobre Miasto where power and water were available FOC and strangely no one else was staying. I walked in to town to admire the huge Gothic red brick church and on my return the coloured fountains by a town wall tower. The leccy was appreciated as although I am confident my gas will last it gave me plenty of hot water for a long hot shower. I brought 3 907 Camping Gaz cylinders and two Calor 3.9s on this 8 week trip so about 14kg or 30 litres and will have perhaps 4/5 litres left. I haven't cooked a lot as it has been warm but equally the fridge has been on each night and I have showered daily so I think that bodes well for future trips when refills are tricky to source.

Heading west again I stopped at Marzewo to watch the remarkable boat lift on the Ostrodzko- Eblaski Canal where two carriages on rails raise or lower boats some 25m on a cable system powered by a large waterwheel. It was fascinating and forms part of a total of five similar lifts on this Prussian built waterway.

 

Up on the north coast near the Wislana Lagoon and Spit I visited another Nazi Concentration Camp at Stutthof. Initially incarcerating local Poles it expanded in 1942 to take 'undesirables' from across Nazi ruled Europe and in 1944 became part of 'The Final Solution' when gas chambers and extra crematoria were installed - some 85,000 people perishing there with many of their photos and stories hauntingly displayed. A narrow gauge railway carried carriages that were filled with people promised a journey to Palestine only to roll back after a return trip two stations down by which time Zyklon B had imposed its final solution.

It is so important that we remember these atrocities but also learn the lessons which around the world we seem unable to do.

 

 

The Wislana lagoon stretches some 60km up to Kaliningrad separated from the sea by the eponymous Spit where I found a place to stay in the back garden of an old house. There was no one else staying which surprised me but as I cycled a few miles north to Krynica Morska I soon found out why.

Here in somewhere resembling Blackpool Beach was a stretch of hotels, packed campsites, cafes, restaurants, gift shops and a fun fair all absolutely heaving. As ever though a couple of miles out and I had the pine woods largely to myself as I cycled to yet another Russian frontier with fencing straddling the beach and ominously no footprints in the nomansland on the Russian side. A distant observation tower was flanked by video surveillance cameras and as I cycled back a 4x4 with Polish border guards passed me presumably heading off duty. I stopped briefly to enjoy buskers on the waterfront before returning to the peaceful camping where a large murmuration of starlings descended in a clatter on the fruit trees around me.

 

After visiting the mighty fortress at Malbork my aim next day was to go to Hel, another peninsular, but a terrific storm had flooded the access road and traffic was snarled up for miles - interestingly I had received a warning text on my phone, in English, something I believe is soon to be introduced in the UK. Presumably all the locals had also received it but ignored it so there was traffic chaos and I decided to head inland away from the coast which had been getting busier all the way south from Estonia.

The day ran away with me a bit as my golden rule to be pitched up no later than 6 was thwarted by non existent or unappealing camping options. Down one long track an old lady in a tumbledown farm had clearly offered camping once but this was no longer available and with the language gap I turned away unsure what to do as dusk fell. I spotted a camp fire in a field with a couple of tents and a caravan so drove in to find that it was a simple bivouac site with no facilities. The Polish group staying there said I was welcome to stay, rang the owner who soon arrived for his 50 zloty (£10) and then left us to it. I was invited to join them around the fire which was lovely and they insisted on sharing their grilled sausages with me. Thus an unexpectedly pleasant end to a tiring day left me relaxed and ready for a good night's kip.

With only a few days left of this trip and a fair way to go for my ferry I decided to crack on to Germany stopping on the outskirts of Szczecin to use my final zlotys on a tank full of cheapish diesel (£1.30/l) and a pizza to leave the waitress all my change.

A few miles across in to Germany I stopped for the night near the Oder that I had cycled along a couple of months ago and again set off by bike up the river to the small town of Schwedt where I couldn't resist  the aromas coming from a Greek restaurant - the lamb cutlets were sublime.

My next hop was to a small free camping spot by a lake, part of the Muritz National Park with a good ride in the early evening to Waren at the centre of the Park on its largest lake. It reminded me of Bowness on Windermere in Cumbria with lake cruisers and private yachts, sparkling waters and a lively cafe scene. Back at my lake a couple of other vans had parked up including one lass in a Caddy who seemed to be roughing it a bit, sleeping with the tailgate open and a large mossie net for comfort/curtains and limited privacy. She was up and about first thing to do some rather pretentious yoga whilst her gas stove boiled away. Anyway each to their own and before long I was away to Schwerin whose magical castle seems to almost hover above the lake. I walked the gardens and admired the views before finally moving on to an aire at the Luneberg boatlift on the Eiblag Canal.

 

The aire had all utilities and at 8 euros was good value and stood almost beneath the towering boat lift buildings. They looked like the new ones under construction back at Niederfinhow but the waterway was carrying more traffic and I was able to watch several huge barges rise and fall suspended in the huge steel trough. The larger push tugs move two barges of 24 shipping containers each but the lift can only deal with one tug/barge combination so the crew have to see one barge safely through, moor it up, drop back for the second and then hook everything up again to proceed. It is a remarkably speedy process with other stand alone barges also passing through carrying everything from grain to coal, aggregates, scrap metal or more specialist tankers carrying gas and oil.

After a quiet night there with a utilities service stop I am now back at Tecklenberg after a day on the autobahns with less than 200 miles to the Hook of Holland. I am a day ahead of schedule so tried to amend my booking but to no avail - as it is the Bank Holiday weekend and the end of school holidays I guess each sailing will be pretty full.

Anyway I was last here 8 weeks ago and whilst I rarely return to old haunts I knew this place was quiet and shaded with a pleasant village just up the road so may well stay two nights. I walked in this afternoon for kaffee und kuchen and have brought the blog up to date for the final time on this trip.

It has been a great success covering some 5000 miles over the last 8 weeks and discovering cultures, history, politics, languages and customs that I was previously unaware of. I would recommend the Baltics to everyone but suggest you get off the beaten track to see the real sides of life and how they relate to recent global history and indeed more current events. From Tallin at the top of Estonia back here to the heart of modern Germany the gradual transition from a post Soviet occupation of rural backwaters through resurging economies in Latvia and Lithuania and the modernising of Poland I have seen gradual but noticeable changes in the quality of housing stock, agricultural production methods, the age and quality of transport and the presence of ever more stuff as affluence grows as witnessed by the stock in shops, possessions in people's gardens and the accoutrements of increased leisure be it boats, bicycles or motorhomes.

The final batch of piccies lie here 

and I now look forward to an Autumn of house sitting for some friends, catching up with others and a return to the mountains of Central Wales as I've not seen a hill in two months!