Granada, Andalusia

Baza had been a nice overnight stop. The interesting town and the backdrop of the mountains that surrounded us stunning. Being close to Granada now, just an hour and a half away, we were keen to be away early this morning. The area we were heading to was close to the city by bus, and a real plus was there was a toilet and shower on site. Really unusual for an area. By eleven paperwork completed at the reception.

 Margery in her chosen spot, we paid our one euro each for a five minute hot shower. The aire had cost sixteen euros because of its location closed to the city, and the fact it was gated for security. We were fine with that. From our spot we have views towards the mountains, some of the higher peaks frosted with snow.

Over the fence beside us is a field of artichokes. Thousands of them almost ready for harvest. Taking advantage of the hot water on offer we washed some items of clothing. Angela decided today might be a good day for a bra change, so with abandon she stripped off. In the field of artichokes a man tended the crop. 'Watch out! That man's got his hoe out', remarked John. His lucky day then. Angela was very excited we were in Granada. There were two places she definitely wanted to visit on this trip, one was the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, ​​​​the other The Alhambra in Granada. Armed with information on which bus to take into the city we packed our rucksacks with lunch and began our afternoon of exploring. A second bus journey on a smaller bus took us up the narrow streets to The Alhambra. The place was heaving, mostly with Americans. There were no tickets available to visit inside or walk around the gardens, these were all sold out until the end of May.

But the unticketed areas we could access accordingly us time. We walked around the outside walls, peered into the gardens and marveled at the buildings we could access. Especially the renaissance building of Carlos V, which was stunning. After a few hours we caught the bus back down and went in search of the cathedral.

What a fantastic building. The amazing architecture. We'd been on our feet for five and a half hours, but we felt rewarded from seeing so many wonderful sights. Just after six, we were glad to see our return bus arrive at the stop. Let's talk Spanish bus drivers here. Irritable, miserable, obviously don't enjoy their job would sum them up. This evening we are exhausted, the traveling of the last few days now catching us up. We also feel we have a 'touch of the sun'. Today the weather has been beautiful with the temperature at 25c. Yesterday it was 9c. All quiet in the field of artichokes this evening. No men peaking through the fence. Angela knows that you get to an age when peeking at her breasts is no longer a spectator sport.

Baza, Andalusia

Angela didn't realise she'd set her alarm for 4.45am. Neither did she realise she had Spanish music for a ringtone. She hadn't, and she didn't. A car had pulled up outside the sports centre adjacent to the aire. And the people in it were in party mode. Music so loud you couldn't hear yourself think, let alone sleep. Singing, shouting, smashing glass bottles. Fortunately we weren't the only van on the aire, there was a Spanish couple next to us, otherwise we would have felt more vulnerable. Half an hour in, a second car arrived. Nightmare. Please God don't let there be any more. Angela hoped that around six o'clock clock as the day broke they'd leave. Did they hell. At ten past eight a couple arrived to use the sports centre, then they left.

At nine we got up after a night we don't want to ever repeat. If anyone reads our blog who is thinking of staying at Ontur. Please don't. Before leaving the town we walked down to the church. Today is the end of holy week here and we knew a  procession was going to take place.

The church service had just begun and we didn't linger, keen to leave this awful town and be on our way as we had a two hour, forty five minute drive ahead of us. And that drive took us on really good roads that cut through the rugged limestone mountains. At times it seemed like we were driving through the lake district, and others Scotland. The rain played cat and mouse with us, and the temperature dropped to 9 c. We can't tell you how relieved we were to reach the aire at Baza.

Thankfully there was some space for Margery. The aire is in an enclosed area, and we feel much safer than we do on some. After a very late lunch, and waiting for another rain shower to pass over, we walked into town. 

There were a lot of empty shops and properties, but once we walked a while we found the old town and some interesting buildings.

The clothing and shoe shops fascinated us.They were straight out of the seventies. On the walk back to Margery we came across a small lingerie shop. We were surprised this retail outlet selling stockings, suspenders and underwear really not suited to the climate here, hadn't been driven out of town by the winceyette brigade!

Ontur, Albacete

Last night's stop turned out to be a good one. The vans continued to arrive until late, but the night passed peacefully. This morning whilst John carried out his breakfast ritual of omelette making, Angela strolled out. In the swelling of the high tide a lone cormorant dived beneath the waves in search of some early morning substance. Amongst the nearby bushes, a flash of tartan, a stoop, and a quick one two before returning to a van nearby. Let's hope it was just a wee. Best watch your step. The most popular spots to overnight were situated on the cliff edge. Beneath them little terra firms. The constant battering of the Mediterranean sea causing some serious erosion. With a few hours driving ahead of us, we were keen to move away from the coast and into the hills where the road cut across the open plains high above sea level. As mile after mile of yet more parched thirsty landscape passed by the road began to climb until we found ourselves 950 metres above sea level. Marge would probably complained about this drive, but Margery constantly battered by strong wind continued with determination.

Now in the town of Ontur, a sleepy wild west type of place where tumbleweed blows along dusty streets and locals stop their conversations, chew on cigarettes that droop from the corner of their mouths and stare, at us! 

There were strangers in town. Just us and a Spanish van on the aire at the moment. We are now only 850 metres above sea level, and as the wind is very persistent we have decided to sleep downstairs in the van tonight.

Should be interesting, and hopefully warmer as the temperature up here on to of the hills is expected to drop to 6c tonight. Snuggle up with us Margery if you're chilly.

Peniscola, Valencia & Murcia

Our last morning at camping Barcelona so we made sure we took full use of the facilities before leaving. In the ladies showers a French lady nodded at Angela, so she nodded back, with that the lady promptly ran into a shower cubicle, creeping out a few minutes later. Most peculiar.Today is a national holiday in Spain, as it is in England, and even though we left fairly early this morning, it wasn't earlier enough to avoid the traffic. It seemed as though most of the residents of Barcelona were leaving the city. So our journey of three hours along congested roads and tunnels that cut through the mountains took considerably longer.

Tired, we were disappointed that the spot we'd chosen for tonight's stopover just didn't do it for us, so we moved on, fortunately finding a Lidl store open which really was a stroke of luck as we were running low on fruit. We then headed towards Peniscola, the drive taking us past acres of olive and almond trees, the earth below them dry and arrid. Everywhere is busy, and selfishly we can't wait until the Easter break is over. Just past Peniscola we spotted vans parked amongst a green area above the rocks. Margery, get amongst them. The area was the Sierra Irta National Park. Amongst the bushes in all the available spaces were vans. Yes, we would have liked to been in one of those on the seaward side, but Angela spotted one opposite with a sea view and at last we were settled for the evening. Margery is far too precious to be exposed to salt spray from the incoming tide that we can hear tumbling the pebbles as it washes over the beach beneath the heavily eroded rocks.

The view along the coast towards Peniscola is beautiful, and as the setting sun slowly coloured the sky the castle, (as featured on the film El Cid) now floodlit, looked even more stunning.

Some days don't go as planned, and today has been one of them. On a positive note, we managed to find a supermarket open on a bank holiday and now we are sat in a beautiful spot. It's now just past nine and the vans are still arriving. Thank goodness we arrived earlier and secured Margery her own little VIP area.