Almunecar

We left Mijas early this morning, passing by the nudist beach at the far end of the town. Some sights can be a little early to see on a Sunday morning.

We diverted uphill, to see a castle in the area. The road once again unnerving, but the views fantastic. The castle was disappointing. It seemed a little fake, more like something Disney would have placed there. Travelling further along the coast we ventured into the Spain, we see on certain English television programmes. It was terrible, like Blackpool on steroids. Quick Marge. Turn left at Torremolinos, and get us out of here! From then on, we took the fast road, skirting around the conurbation of Malaga. Alongside the road land was being reformed into terraces. This area is known as the coast tropical, because the climate is ideal for fruit growing.

At lunchtime we stopped at a pretty coastal town, where we thought we might overnight. On the internet it was described as mosquito hell, so that went against it. Before leaving, we walked out down to the marina, where we passed the time of day with two Englishmen, who greeted us in Spanish, realising as we said "hello", we were English. "It's difficult to know, which language to speak in", one said. So we returned him a "bonjour", to which he said, "now you're confusing me". Our walk took us along the wall of the marina, where two woman sat, who we struck up conversation with. Turned out they were the wives of the Englishmen. After discussing the weather, travelling and where we were all from, it materialised they were from Whitehaven in Cumbria, and one of the women and their husband owned a place down the coast at Nerja. The downside for them, was the fact they couldn't fly from Carlisle to Spain, and had to either use Liverpool or Manchester airport. Small price to pay we thought, to be able to nip over to Spain when you wanted.

We had thought that if we stayed a little outside of Almunecar, we might cycle into the town, but the terrain was not so good, and at times even Marge struggled. So we drove into the town, moving from our first parking space, as we were not happy about seeing an African man fiddling with the door of a car, holding a screwdriver.

So instead we drove Marge to Laurie Lee's plaque on the seafront, luckily being able to park in a loading bay right beside it. We had already read on the internet, that it was not the most elegant of tributes. In fact, it looked like a chiminea, but all the same, we were glad we'd seen it.

After, we drove Marge up to the castle, then out of town a short distance, where she is now parked with two Spanish vans, across the road from the sea.

After dinner, feeling happier about our surroundings, we walked along the well lit footpath along the seafront to the outskirts of the town.

As we turned a corner, an absolutely stunning full moon sat in the sky, casting its light across the bay, lighting a large yacht as it rested in its light. Beautiful.

The time eight thirty, and most people wore shorts, T-shirts and sandals.

It is now nearly ten o' clock, and still as warm. Sorry people back in England, we know you don't want to hear this, but you'll get the last laugh, when you see us shivering upon our return.

Mijas day 2

It was very warm and muggy yesterday evening, the temperature 20c. We sat reading with Marge's side door open, forgetting the mosquitoes would be hungry, and as Angela found out during the night, they were ravenous.

Mijas is not the sort of coastal town you would expect on the Costa del Sol. It is unspoilt, with no smell of fish and chips or burgers. It's restaurants serve steaks, seafood, pasta, pizza and Cantonese meals.

This morning the sky was grey grey, and about a dozen raindrops fell. Soon after, the sun broke through.

Opposite us, a market had been set up. We walked over to take a look. John spotted some cotton clothing, a bit hippy, but perfect for warm countries with mosquitoes as they completely covered arms and legs down to ankles, a favourite of the mosquito. Luckily John saw reason and decided not to relive his youth. We have noticed other van people, also staying over-night in parking areas, wearing similar attire. Maybe we are all just one step away from a lay-by.

We decided, at lunchtime, we would stay another night here, it being Saturday and knowing from last night all would be quiet. We moved Marge to the space opposite, by the the fence of a golf course.

A warning sign warned of low flying golf balls. Let's hope there is no such incident. We know what Marge would say if anyone's balls hit her. Our afternoon was spent resting and reading, avoiding the heat. A couple of women passed by 'walking' their dogs in 'doggy pushchairs', what's that all about?

Early evening we decided we should take a walk out, sitting a while to people watch. Today's new arrivals obvious by their white legs, not having seen the sun since they were put in shorts on last years holiday. Others had already taken the sunbathing too far. bright red buttocks, with bikini bottoms straining to see daylight.

Tomorrow we are off to Almunecar, where among other interests, there is a plaque to commemorate the author Laurie Lee, which is the main reason for our visit as John is reading one of his books 'As I walked out one midsummer morning', about Laurie's adventures walking across Spain in the run up to the Spanish Civil War.

Mijas

What a night last night! The van never stopped rocking! Stop those thoughts readers. Suddenly in the night a wind like no another arrived. You could hear it building as it came through the mountains and up the lake. All a little disconcerting as we had trees above us.

The van shook, Angela shook, glad when the morning arrived, but still the wind persisted.

Behind Marge was a pathway which led to the famous Camino del Rey starting at the King's Seat. A walkway that is pinned to the steep walls of the narrow gorge in El Chorro.

We took a walk along the path through the trees and rocks. Then stopped. To continue, a ticket was required, and only one hundred people an hour are permitted to go in at a time. Tickets must be booked in advance, and are almost impossible to obtain as people come from all over the world to experience the camino so we didn't try to join the queue of hundreds at the ticket office.

Before we left Marge, there was a continuous flow of coaches dropping off people booked on the walk. We'd like to tell you that tickets were all sold out. But truth be told, we're a couple of lightweights, although John said he would have done it. Angela, well, someone has to take the photographs of everyone entering the lions den!

Walking back to Marge, we met lots of people heading towards the gorge, some so excited they were running, not realising a very large queue awaited them. We sauntered along, miming swinging walkways to them. Back at the van, a man who'd John had spoken to the previous evening, and was ecstatic about being able to do the walk had just returned. You could tell he thought we were a little sissy for not giving it a go. Angela's philosophy is, if you don't want to, you don't have to. We all enjoy different things, and fear is not one of them in her book. Saying that, she's experienced some frightening moments whilst driving Marge.

Anyway, after some discussion with the man about the walk, we discovered that he had also driven down the coast of Portugal as we had. He enlightened us on other countries he had visited, recommending, Greece, Sicily, Romania and Albania. Then we moved onto van waste disposal. He did not use his W.C., he said. They made alternative arrangements. We'll leave you to think about that one! But somewhere in the conversation was mentioned that dogs didn't have W. C.S.

We were thinking of spending another night up in the mountains, having struggled to get there, but the thought of another windy night, and more dragging Marge up steep inclines put us of the idea. So we returned to the coast. On route a vulture, flew over us, there are four different species in the mountain skies around here.

This evening Marge is parked amongst many vans in the town of Mijas, a suburb of Malaga. We think we may have found the 'bargain loving Brits'.

The small town and beach area here is lovely, and has a village feel. There is a large hotel, which you could see was full of British. We joked about staying on the Costa del Sol, and buying a bar. Don't worry children, your inheritance is safe, we're not that adventurous, or stupid. Too many times, we have seen English people on television put all their savings into such a scheme, only for it to fail.

We are in no rush to leave the warmth of Southern Spain, so will continue slowly now along the coast. Thinking about it, perhaps the bar we saw for sale down on the beach here would be a good idea. Just need to find a couple of relatives to run it! You didn't actually think we'd want to give up travelling did you?