Mataro, Barcelona

As Angela walked back from the shower yesterday afternoon she wondered how many campsites in Europe we'd actually stayed on. Too many to remember, but some we'll not forget because of the people we met, the excellent location, or they were just dire.Thankful last night there were no groups of children on the site and we were glad to go to our bed without noise to harass us. Until the man in the pop top in the van on the pitch next to us farted!. Despite being German, we could tell his wife was not happy. We'd had lentils for dinner. Call that a fart. Just you wait. Perhaps it would be a noisy night. Late morning we set off for Spain The sun was out and at last we could clearly see the mountains. Angela was a little nervous to be leaving France where she understands the rules of the road, road signs and a bit of the language. We have driven in Spain twice before, but it's just not the same. As expected Google maps took us out of the town on a different road to the one we'd entered. Up over the hills on a narrow road with switch back bends and no crash barrier! So when we met a speeding motorist, farting wasn't a consideration, we almost did much worse. We both admitted we were a little frightened. But soon we were on busy fast roads and just before noon we crossed the border into Spain. 

Here we go Margery, show them what you're made off. The road was busy and the traffic moved fast. Angela put her foot down, it seemed safer just to join in. Relieved the stressful tiring journey was over we were very glad to reach Camping Barcelona in the town of Mataro.

We have a good pitch on the very busy site. There are even a few English here. Tomorrow we will have been away from home two weeks, and up until now we have only seen five English registered vehicles. Keen to explore, we took the free bus from the campsite into town.

Stopped for a much needed hot drink and took a walk around.

Tomorrow and Wednesday we are booked on the coach that will take us to and from Barcelona. When we return tomorrow evening we are booked in the restaurant for a meal. Early starts over the next two days, so we're hoping for quiet nights. No farting please!

Banyuls Sur Mer, Pyrenees Orientales (day 2)

This morning a gentle stroll down into the town for a walk on the beach and around the market, where we bought strawberries, followed by coffee at the marina.

When we returned to the campsite at lunchtime there was an eerie silence. Why? The Spanish scouts had left. Thank god! Before booking another night on the site John checked at reception they would actually be leaving and that no more would be arriving. We sound like a right couple of English moaners, don't we,? But justifiably so. The Spanish kids were 'on it' until midnight last night. Being so close to the mountains the weather is forever changing. Dark oppressive clouds like thick velvet curtains obliterate the view, and then give way to veils of wispy white nets. But it always feels warm. So we're happy to just go with it. The washing however, is on and off the washing line with frequency. In the toilets at the campsite swallows nest, boxes from printer paper strategically placed  underneath to catch any droppings.

The birds dart in and out, fractious about the comings and goings. The weather now more settled, we 'pat down' Margery, before walking back down to the shoreline where sea glass is rich pickings. Along the way we are saddened by the oranges that have fallen from trees, and left to rot. What a waste. The lemon trees, always impress us with their vibrant large wonky fruits.

But we can not linger. Tomorrow we are heading for an early start as we're off to a campsite near to Barcelona for four nights.We're excited. The journey however might be a little challenging as we have to pass through Girona and Angela remembers the last time she drove through there. Early night tonight Margery. What's that? Lavender water after a 'pat down'. You're such high maintenance!

Banyuls Sur Mer, Pyrenees Orientales

It was lovely yesterday being back by the sea, being lulled to sleep by the waves of the Mediterranean ocean as they sucked at the sand. This morning Angela took an early morning stroll along the seafront.

Thousands of By-the-wind-Sailor Velella velella stranded on the beach.

There's something very calming about a walk by the sea in the early morning. But we couldn't linger. We needed to find a post office nearby to buy stamps for our postcards. But linger we did, as we couldn't exit the aire. After many attempts to pay with the barrier still refusing to lift, a French woman came to our aid. Stamps purchased we began our drive south. Angela wanted us to pass through Perpignan on a weekend because she thought the traffic might be lighter. She was wrong. After some stressy moments we were spat out south of the city and soon found ourselves in open countryside with the imposing Pyrenees Orientales on our right, the highest peaks snowed covered.

Then a drive up over the foothills of the mountains and down a switchbacking road to the coast.

All a little hairy.

Glad to have arrived at the campsite our relaxing evening was soon shattered by a group of Spanish scouts. Noise level on maximum. Opposite the site is a supermarket which we decided to visit to buy a couple of items we didn't think we'd easily be able to purchase in Spain.

In the veg department we discovered giant peppers we could only dream of buying in England. Depending on how the night goes with the Spanish scouts we may stay here two nights. We'll see.

Sete, Occitane

Yesterday evening as the setting sun filtered through the trees, a young couple sat down in the yard where the horses are tethered during the day. He played an acoustic guitar whilst she sang. Beautiful. What a peaceful end to the day. In contrast, we were rudely awoken at six this morning by a monster of a tractor ploughing the field opposite. Our destination today Sete on the Mediterranean coast. First a big shop to tied us over the weekend.

We tend to eat a small variety of meals whilst in the van, and tonight is paella night. And tonight being a Friday we headed to a paid camping car site just west of Sete. At just eleven euros a night it's the cheapest in the area. Situated just behind the sandunes, this afternoon we were able to walk out down the vast white sand beach looking for sea glass.

So engrossed were we, we didn't notice we'd walked into the nudist area. A woman stripped off walking into the churning waves, exclaiming to her fully dressed husband stood on the sand that the water was cold. Perhaps a swimming cosi would help. Up in the sand dunes Angels caught a flash of orange. 'Is that Trump, showing everyone his 'Kevin the carrot!'.

🥕 Sorry no no photos! 🥕

Nearby on the beach someone had marked an area with bamboo canes. On the sand three tiny terns eggs. Let's hope they survive.

Tomorrow will probably be out last day in France for a while, as we plan to cross into Spain. But as always are agenda is subject to change. As the writer Paul Theroux quotes.' Tourists know where they have been. Travellers don't know where they are going'.