Camping Valle Niza, Benajarafe, Costa del Sol

Yesterday evening Angela's appetite had begun to return. She really fancied a pizza. So we located a place with good reviews not too far away. The walk was just far enough for John, who'd spent most of the day asleep.

It was lovely to sit out amongst the street cafes and not be bothered by anyone. We returned to Marge just in time to witness yet another top sunset.

This morning, still not really feeling it, we knew we needed to pack up and move on a little. Two hours away, was Camping Valle Niza, where we stayed for a couple of nights on our way down to Gibraltar. Of course, a couple of hours for Marge is around three and a half hours, plus coffee stop. John drove first, then Angela took over. The journey around the outskirts of Malaga slow.

Angela hasn't driven Marge since our first day in France. She'd rather John drove her, as he is used to her little foibles. Surprisingly the campsite was almost empty.  It is now high season here, so the overnight cost of just over thirty pounds seemed a little steep, after Morocco. We don't really mind. We were just glad to return to somewhere we'd stayed before, do a wash, and just sit.

 Fortunately, we have time on our side, so will slowly make our way along the coast towards Perpignan before heading across France.

And thank you Harry Kane for rescuing what looked like a dire situation against the DR Congo. 

Instructions for using the loo at the service area. Next match, let's see the whole England team push a bit harder!

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.