Camping Valle Niza, Benajarafe, Costa del Sol (day 2)

When we arrived on the campsite yesterday we were one of only a handful of English people on the site. But everyone seemed friendly, and by today most of the sceptical Spanish had warmed towards us. Marge of course has been receiving non-stop attention since arriving. One thing we've missed on this trip is taking exercise. So this morning, despite the heat and no shade we walked along the beach to the restaurant. They were setting up for lunch, wood from grapevines, lit and smoking added yet more heat.

We bought coffees and found a seat in the shade. Being a Sunday the beach was busy, whatever shape or size, nobody seemed body conscious, and in some cases shorts and bikinis were put under considerable strain. We sought out a small shady spot opposite the restaurant where we sat a while watching the Hoopoes with their distinctive crown of feathers.

We remember the first time we saw one of these birds, it was in Italy in 2009, the year of our twentieth wedding anniversary. The parakeets that flit between the pine trees here seemed unhappy with the presence of the hoopoes and screeched louder than normal to voice their disapproval. This afternoon we watched a YouTube by a couple who recently took their landrover over to Morocco, and checked which foodstuffs we must make sure we don't take into the country.

By early evening a lot of the vans and caravans had departed from the site, and it is noticeably quieter. Last night we stayed up until midnight, spending too long talking to our neighbours. So tonight we must ensure we retire to bed a little earlier as tomorrow we will be on the move again. Marge should now be fully rested and is hopefully raring to set off again. Hopefully by tomorrow evening we will be at Gibraltar.

Camping Valle Niza, Benajarafe, Costa del Sol

It's supposed to be all about the journey not the destination.Sadly Angela doesn't agree. We have now been away two weeks and apart from our two night stay at La Flotte on the Ile de Re during our first week away, we just seem to be driving in hot uncomfortable conditions. Last night was once again been warm and uncomfortable. Despite being on the edge of Granada it was lovely and quiet, but Angela couldn't sleep, she felt sick and the cramp in her legs and ankles was unbearable. Each day we are drinking copious amounts of fluid to stay hydrated. So John decided we'd head to the coast and stay on a campsite for a couple of nights. Of course we didn't factor in that it was a glorious weekend and that the Spanish might want to do the same. As Marge tore up the miles breezing along through the Sierra Nevada national park, the views of the mountains, dams, viaducts and bridges were a welcome interest.

Towards the coast the road veered downward, Marge loved it, at last no more struggling up hills getting a little heated, and her warning lights have disappeared after the dust was finally blown from the ABS sensors in her wheels. The campsite seemed O.K. but the three spaces we were offered a choice of at the cheaper price of twenty five euros were sub standard. One by the washing up area, another by a caged parrot who had much to say, albeit in Spanish. And yes, said parrot, we know swearing in whatever language. So we drove on failing to find anywhere, becoming more and disheartened.

Pulling over to the side of the road Angela noticed we were parked outside a campsite opposite a beach. She went in, made enquiries and all was well. We were able to choose our pitch and all for £21.00!

We will probably stay here again tomorrow night as well. The site is busy with Spanish, but the lady at reception told Angela most of them will leave tomorrow. We are now less than twenty miles from Malaga, and just over a hundred from Algecires where we will board a ferry to Morocco. So tomorrow apart from a welcome walk on the beach plans need to be finalised for Morocco.

Grenada, Andalusia

At nine o'clock clock yesterday evening a number of musicians appeared in the street adjacent to the site. After some tuning up, they began playing, mostly trumpets and drums, whilst they slow marched. The music was sombre and a little haunting.

The group walked around the block and the repetitive sound continued for an hour and a half. The tone of the music made us think they were practising for a funeral. Today has been one of those days. Everything went pear shaped from the off. The fuel station wasn't open as they were having a delivery, and the nearby Lidl didn't open at nine because the staff could unlock the front door. Eventually, both fuel station and supermarket opened, so John dealt with Marge and Angela sorted the shopping. Now running a little behind our navigation decided to send us around the houses, which turned out to be a good thing as in all the panic of trying to get sorted out John realised he hadn't replaced Marge's fuel filler cap. So we returned to the garage and of course it wasn't there. Why would someone take a locking fuel cap when they didn't have the keys for it? Fortunately Valdepenas was a fair sized town and with the help of a man at a hire car agency who telephoned a nearby vehicle parts supplier we were able to source another locking cap. Then we were on our way, albeit a little later, hoping the drive would be as easy as yesterday. Well we got that one wrong. It started well, nice flat straight roads passing hectares and hectares of olive groves that covered the valleys and the mountains.

How on earth they would harvest them we couldn't comprehend. Of course roads that cut around mountains also go through and over, suddenly the day warming we and Marge found ourselves slogging up some challenging inclines. 

Marge battled on and we made it to Granada. Never doubted you Marge.

Despite the sunshine and the heat, up on the ridges of the Sierra Nevada sat the last of the winter snow which seemed a little surreal. Later than we expected because we arrived at Granada just as the Spanish were going home for siesta, we pulled into the aire. We stayed here last year with Margery, our VW California and rated it highly, as it is secure and has clean toilets and showers, all for just over fifteen pounds. It is also close to the bus stop where you can take a bus to the Alhambra, but because we visited last year we used the time this afternoon to catch up on some washing. Angela wants you to be impressed that she hand washed, using her bucket and a sink, some of our clothing and our bedding, dried it, and had it all put away within three hours.

We are now fairly close to the Mediterranean coast. Malaga is a couple of hours away, so that's the direction we'll be heading. Hopefully it will feel cooler for us and Marge. Since we took her to the badlands she now displays two lights on her dashboard, abs and traction control. That'll probably be dirt on the sensor. Hopefully it will clear itself soon.

Valdepenas, Ciudad Real, Castile-La Mancha

After the stress of yesterday we enjoyed a pleasant night. As Angela ate her breakfast this morning a bee flitted between the blood red poppies behind Marge. These poppies are in abundance here, punctuating the wheat fields we drive by mile after mile. Today we were only driving for an hour and a half to Valdepenas. Soon into the journey we saw a line of windmills up on a ridge by a castle.

John thought we should drive into the nearby town to see if we could get up close. Oh dear, here we go again. We followed a motorhome up the tarmac road, parking by one of the windmills which was an information centre. In her best Spanglais, Spanish and English, Angela asked if we could drive up to the castle. Of course, so we continued. After the events of yesterday, always best to make some enquiries.

Molino Consuegra, twelve whitewashed windmills built in the nineteenth century to grind flour, now a popular Spanish visitor attraction. John had made a good call. And there was a small cafe in one of the windmills. Perfect.

So here we are now in the town of Valdepenas. The English couple from last night are here also. They have a problem with the gas supply to their freezer and have been recommended to visit someone close by to help them. After years of travelling in their motorhome this is going to be the last trip before selling the van. They've discovered cruising. The lady commented, that it was a worry wondering what might go wrong each day. It's not just Angela then. That's the problem with ageing, your confidence drops. So tonight's neighbours are German which we like as they are normally very quiet. It is very hot this evening and we are expecting an uncomfortable night. Tomorrow's temperature 39c. Let's hope Marge is happy with that. We know we won't be, so we're leaving early.

Los Yébenes

If you've been following the antics of Muddy Marge you'll know she's supposed to be still on her Scottish road trip. But they say events in life happen for a reason. If it wasn't for our premature departure from Scotland we wouldn't be in Southern Spain now. As us and Marge suffered from the intense heat yesterday afternoon we decided we would leave early this morning and then stop just after lunch for the day. Angela didn't feel well, she had an upset stomach, possibly caused by drinking the tap water at the site that said it was drinkable. Normally we don't drink water from taps in Europe unless boiled, and always buy bottled water. The temperature dropped significantly during the night which caught us out. So early morning required us to dig out warmer tops that we'd packed away. The onward drive cut through a patchwork of fields. In fact mile after mile of them.

The driving in Spain has been boring. Fields, industrial, and out of town shopping areas. We stopped at a service area for our first coffee in Spain. Accompanied by two large pain chocolate, or whatever they call them here. All for five pounds. Bargain. The driver of the coca cola delivery van admired Marge, as two other drivers did as they passed her later on. Stop flirting Marge. If only they knew what she was really like. Our lunchtime stop near to Madrid turned out to be unsuitable as the aire was in a very busy built up area. So we decided to drive on, first stopping at the nearby Decathlon to buy electrolyte tablets to put in our drinking water.

 John fancied a 4x4 stop at a castle about an hour's drive away. It was now 35c. As soon as we began to drive up to the castle Angela was unnerved. The drive up was steep and winding. Would Marge make it? Of course she did. John decided it wasn't right for us to stay the night there, so he took Marge back down the precarious track whilst Angela walked, feeling really out of sorts. Next overnight stop in a town was also no good so we pressed on. And here we are now away from castles, towns and heat.

Although high up it is warm but much fresher. There is just one other van here and surprisingly they are English, the woman pleased to see us, smiling and waving. Perhaps like Angela she likes safety in numbers. We had been travelling eleven hours when we arrived. Tomorrow proper plans need to be made. We are supposed to be on a holiday and for Angela it's starting to feel like an unpleasant challenge.

Agreda, province of Soria, in the autonomous community of Castile and León

We survived the night in The Badlands. It turned out the frogs were not our only immediate neighbours. Before we retired to bed last night, John stepped outside of Marge. Who was more shocked. The Wild pig accompanied by it's piglet or John?

Around eight thirty this morning we were on our way. We'd stayed the night around three miles from the main road, now to find our way back again. Because it is so hot here it was important we visited the The Bardenas Reales UNESCO Biosphere Reserve this morning. Situated in the semi-desert there would be nowhere to shelter from the sun. It was a wonderful morning.

The scenery fitting for a western. Being so dry, there was a lot of dust. At lunchtime we opened Marge up and the dust had even permeated inside. Marge, you dirty girl. On the way around Bardenas Reales we'd seen a couple in an open top Porsche. It did say no sports cars to drive through, I bet now this couple had taken note. There's probably dust in every crevice. Not sure of the fuel situation in this remote area we stopped to top up. The man who served us told us the temperature is normally 25c at this time of year. That would be perfect. We understand from home that we are now experiencing the same temperatures as the U.K. Not wanting to drive too far this afternoon we found a place half an hour away. It is just off the main road to Madrid on which the lorry drivers have little patience, so it's going to be a little testing for them tomorrow being stuck behind Marge. Our park up is on the outskirts of town on the site of a small former campsite. Toilets and showers are available all for free. The showers have no doors, so Angela opted for a pat down in Marge. John however was unfazed at anyone seeing his full Monty. Angela did however use the toilets. Two had doors that wouldn't shut properly, the third closed and locked. But it wouldn't unlock. 34c outside, a lot more in this small confined space. Now was not the time to play escape room. After much panic and by moving the lock to varying positions she was free. This is the third time since we've left home Angela had had a problem releasing herself from a locked toilet door. Ageing is not for the faint hearted.