Last night, after dinner, constellations shimmered in the darkness. The absence of street lights, provided a perfect back drop to this bright wonder.
We realised, whilst we took in the moment, that in three weeks time, we would be back in England, spending the last night of our trip in the car park at Newhaven port.
How long ago does it seem, since we were there, excited about the trip that lay before us, and that unfortunate incident with the seagull? The thoughts made us aware of life. This was it! Happening here and now. At five past ten the moon put in an appearance.
We'd almost given up on it. Bands of cloud streaked across the now oval shape, smudging and distorting its face.
After breakfast, we took a walk over the outcrop of rock that shielded the bay, there was a sign warning people to leave the turtles in peace, as they came to lay their eggs on the beach, between June and August.
Upon reaching the next bay, we could see that yet more vans had stayed overnight in this beautiful area.
Back at Marge, walk completed, we were ready for the off. On route, we passed many acres lettuce, at various stages of growing, from seedlings to produce ready for picking, soon to be en-route to markets and supermarkets, some of them probably destined for England. The fields of green baize, a welcomed splash of colour, amongst the hard, dry landscape. Just before lunch, we took Marge over the mountains. She's used to long slow climbs and switchback bends now, and takes it all in her stride. Slow and steady Marge, don't worry about the vehicles behind. We know our Marge isn't bothered, and would say, "I can go slower you know!".
Near the summit, we pulled into a large parking area to have our lunch. The views fantastic, the drop down terrifying.
Late afternoon, it was time to sort out tonight's stop. O.K. Marge, what will it be, there's one here by the naturist beach, or how about one by a cove and lighthouse? Consider carefully now.
The lighthouse it is, alongside a cove. Well chosen Marge. We are now sited, alongside French, Spanish and Portuguese vans. Marge has pole position. We reminisced that the last time we had walked up to a lighthouse was at A Coruna in Portugal, when we walked up to the Tower of Hercules, we reckon some five weeks ago now. The leaflet for the Tower of Hercules, is now the book mark in our Spanish guide book.
The view of the lagoon, the volcanic mounds and La Manga were stunning.
Angela as always, stopped to smell and photograph the flowers. Trees and flowers, are her main points of photography. Whilst descending the steps from the lighthouse a video call came in from England. Time to catch up with Angela's son Chris, his wife Kirsty and our grandson Elliot. Elliot recognised John's voice straight away. It was nice to catch up, and see how Elliot had developed since we last saw them all. He is now walking, talking, cleaning his teeth and brushing his hair. Genius!
After the call, we noticed that the sun was setting, the sky ablaze. The volcanic mountains, with a fiery red sky above, looked liked they'd just erupted. One of our best sunsets ever.
No comments:
Post a Comment