26th October 2010.

27th October 2010.

28th October 2010.

 

 
Sally was re-reading Laurie Lee's As I Walked Out One Mid-Summer Morning and we tried, as far as time and geography would allow, to follow LL's route. She noted that he visited Valladolid, so, from Burgos, we headed in that direction. I visited Valladolid thirty years ago, but I had absolutely no recollection of it. As it got dark, we had to stop at what looked like an expensive (but actually wasn't) hotel, just off the main road. We had been told that Spanish hotels don't like dogs, but there was no problem here, not even an extra charge.

29th October 2010.

A warm, sunny morning started badly when I took Archie outside for his ablutions. He stared at the horizon for a while, had a pee then came back into the hotel. We went up in the lift and got out at our floor. Walking along the immaculate marbled corridor, Archie suddenly stopped and crapped on the floor. Neither of us could believe it. He is normally so reliable. We both looked guiltily up and down the corridor. I quickly found a bag and scooped it up. No visible trace remained, although later, when we're leaving, Archie examined the area closely.

Sal read more Laurie Lee the previous night and it transpired that, although he went to Valladolid, he found it an "awful, stinking place, to which [he'll] never return." We approached the city with trepidation, and, although the tree-lined avenues we drove through seemed pleasant enough, we didn't stop.

On, then, to the highlights of the day. First Segovia. I thought that it might have become a bit "touristy" since I was last here in 1981, but I needn't have worried. It is a beautiful city, and ineviably attracts tourists, but they have resisted any temptation to go down market, at least at this time of year.

 
Then south-east, doing a big loop around Madrid, to Avila, a smaller town than Segovia but with, I have a vague recollection, a religious history. It has fantastic brown granite medieval walls and the inevitable cathedral and squares within.

 
Then we continued our zig-zag path to the south-east again, south of Madrid, towards Toledo. On the way we stopped by a river to let Archie stretch his legs and have his tea.

 
Storm clouds had been following us all afternoon, and finally caught up with us at Toledo, another fairy-tale city, for centuries Spain's capital, fought over by Romans, Visigoths, Moors and Christians, home of the painter El Greco, important in the Civil War and now the entire city is a UNESCO World Heritage site. And it was pissing down! So only time for a few photos:
 

 
As the rain showed no sign of easing, we drove on southwards, looking for a hotel. We quickly seemed to be in a fairly bleak, flat region where it was hard to find, or even imagine, anything resembling a hotel. A roadside garage/cafe/hotel looked possible, but had a "no dogs" sign, probably because the single entrance went through the cafe. We kept on through driving rain and darkness, eventually reaching Cuidad Real, about 90 kilometres South of Toledo.

As always seems to happen when you really need one, we couldn't find any hotels so decided to put Freda to the test and sleep "rough" for a few hours then press on at first light. We ended up in a park at the end of a pleasant residential street. I thought it worked quite well. Sal knocked up a bit of a buffet, we had a few beers and I managed to rig up my netbook to Miles' portable speakers and we listened to two recent downloads of BBC Radio Four's News Quiz. Result! Slept better than expected, in our clothes, with Archie wedged between us. Sal thought some people came and peered in during the night and we had a bit of a rude awakening when the bin men arrived at about 4:30 am, but otherwise uneventful.

30th October 2010:

Left Cuidad Real at about 6:30 am under cover of darkness and drove to a small town to the south where we sorted Freda and Archie out. Had a coffee in a garage and filled up with diesel before starting the final long drive to Gaucin, near Ronda in the Andalucian hills, our home for the next couple of weeks. Still dark when we finally got going which meant we could enjoy the sunrise, stunning mountain ranges, olive groves and vinyards. Still a bit of rain and cloud around, but much better than the previous night.

Got to Cordoba where we bought croissants and coffee which we ate by the Rio Guadalquivir. Archie had a bit of a walk. We've both been here before, although not since 1997, and we really needed to get on so we didn't do any more sightseeing. From Cordoba to Malaga is about 200k, so we still had a way to go. The owner of the house we were renting, an Englishman called Patrick, 'phoned to say that the electricity in the house kept fusing and that he was trying to get an electrician there. More spectacular countryside for a while, then we hit the coast at Malaga. It was ghastly and we wondered whether we'd made a mistake renting somewhere comparatively close to the coast. We drove along the coast westwards and things got, if anything, worse. Blocks of flats, many unfinished with rusty cranes. Blingy-looking golf clubs, closed "nightclubs", advertising hoardings. Pink holiday-makers showing too much flesh. It was horrible. We missed our turn-off for Gaucin and had to retrace our path.

Eventually we found our road and headed up towards the hills. A mile or two inland everything reverts back to "real" Spain. A rather bumpy, but manageable, road with olives, almonds, goats and white-walled villages. We spotted two small towns in the distance, across a couple of valleys, the further of which turned out to be Gaucin. It still took another half hour or so to get there but we found "our" house quite easily. The electrician had obviously visited as there were small piles of plaster underneath many of the electric sockets. More importantly, though, everything worked. The house, like the town, is very old, but quaint and pretty. It needed a bit of tidying up and re-organising but we soon settled in. We drove to a supermarket out of town to stock up (it was Sunday the following day and we were not sure what would be open). On our return Patrick, the owner, was at the house to confirm that everything was ok. We chatted a bit and he invited us to go, later in the week, on one of his guided walks around the area, mainly cork and pine forests.

Knackered.

31st October 2010:

Spent the day exploring the town and recovering from our journey. Although not a big town, Gaucin has bars, restaurants, a couple of supermarkets, a garage, a DIY shop, hairdressers, art galleries and, like all southern Spanish hill towns, a castle. I had been a little worried that it might be a bit "ex-pat" as there is supposed to be a number of English people living there. As it turned out, there were quite a lot of Brits, and some Germans, French and Dutch, but far-outnumbered by Spanish and absolutely no concessions made to tourism. The foreigners almost all spoke what seemed very good Spanish. Our contact, Patrick, chatted in Spanish to passers-by, and the local Spaniards seemed very friendly towards us, although we were never able use more than our few words of Spanish. Very few Spaniards spoke any English. The town, like others in the area, clings to the Andalucian hills and there is little room for further urban development, but there seemed to be some small-scale maintenance/modernising work going on, some to an exceptionally high standard, unlike our little house, which stuck to the basics.

1st November 2010:

To Ronda, about 30 miles to the north-east. We wish we had come via Ronda on our journey here, but were nor sure how good the road was. As it happens, the road between Gaucin and Ronda is better than the road to Gaucin from the coast.

Ronda is still as spectacular and as tourist-orientated as it was thirteen years ago, when we were last here. We did the sights then retired to a restaurant for a late lunch and a bottle of Rioja. A pattern we intended to repeat as often as possible in the next few weeks.

2nd November 2010:

Weather becoming quite hot, with deep blue cloudless skies. Wandered around Gaucin before lunch, trying to find maps, and also stocking up for the fortnight-long wine tasting and appraisal which I was planning.

In the afternoon we went on one of Patrick's easier-looking walks. He's a keen walker, has known the area for over 30 years and has written a number of guides for walkers in the area. We were worried that Archie, fifteen as far as we know, would not manage long walks as he has become a bit of a dawdler lately, taking an almost forensic interest in the olfactory signature of everything he passes. After the first mile or so, though, he became resigned to the expedition and plodded stoically behind us. We misunderstood the very simple map provided with the guide and got lost, doubling the estimated time for the walk.

3rd November 2010:

We thought we'd give the coastal strip a second chance. We understood that there was a market in Estapona on Wednesdays so we drove down the bumpy road to the sea, about 30 miles away. We parked by a marina to the west of Estapona. Lots of blingy, expensive-looking boats, some with orange fat people on them. Had a coffee in one of many similar cafes, partly on the promise of wi-fi, which turned out not to work. Then into the town itself where we had lunch in a square which was ok. Quite hot. Didn't find the promised market, although there was a fish market, which was just closing. Lots of bars with names like "Robbies" and "E:motion".

4rd November 2010:

Another lovely, bright, potentially hot day. We decided to get out early and take Archie for a "proper" walk as he did so well the other day. This time we went to the south of the town. Two women, re-building a wall offered advice. As far as we could tell, the advice was "don't go down there!", which, being English, we ignored. Archie did well. We were exhausted, more because of heat than walking, and had to retire to a bar/restaurant in Gaucin main square for a late lunch.

5th November 2010:

An excursion to Cadiz and Jerez. Because we'd been sleeping so well we didn't leave the house until 10:00 am. On the road south-west to Algeciras. Algeciras smelt awful. Can't believe I once spent a week there! At Cadiz we had to drive around for a while to find somewhere to park - seems to be a problem in the town - but we eventually parked away from the centre, by an old (disused) prison. Walked into the centre and headed straight for the tapas bars by the catherdral. Wandered around until about 4:00 pm. Very nice city with lots of history. Well worth a visit.

 
Then to Jerez. Even nicer than Cadiz, much nicer than I remember. Elegant squares, fountains and a market in the central plaza. Got lost coming out of the city adding nearly an hour to the journey home.

6th November 2010:

After being late the previous night we decided to stay local. We went first to a supermaket (unexciting one-day market in the carpark). Then a walk up to the Hermitage, behind the castle. Called in for a drink on the way back then just reading and supper.

7th November 2010:

Drove north-east to Ronda, then to the north-west trying to find some lakes. Eventually found Lake Zahara and had a picnic by the water's egde. Some fishermen and other locals around. What could have been a great location rather spoilt by clay mud and some litter. Then we found the town of Zahara. Fantastic. Not dissimilar to Gaucin and many other classic Andalucian hillside towns, but with grander squares and an even more magnificent fort. Came back to Gaucin the "pretty way", i.e hair-raisingly hilly. Needless to say, Freda coped magnificently.

8th-9th November 2010:

Raining! Some spectacular lightning over the mountains but I wasn't quick enough on the camera shutter button.

10th November 2010:

Early lunch then one of Patrick's walks to the north of Gaucin, towards a village called Cortes. Part of the walk was along a very old trail from Gaucin to Cortes which was originally the only way to get to Gaucin from the north. Archie dawdled, as usual, which increased the estimated 2½ hours to 3½. Cork, almond, olive and pine trees, as well as various herbs and fungi, which we didn't risk but which was being collected by one or two locals who were more-or-less the only other people we saw.

11th November 2010:

Remembrance Day. Not celebrated in Spain, and, with the time difference with the UK, eleven o'clock passed us by unmarked. Sal, having re-read Laurie Lee's civil war exploits, had now moved on to Ernest Hemingway's For Whom The Bell Tolls, also set in '30s Spain, and it seems that most of the places we have visited played some part in the war. For our last full day in Gaucin Sal has been studying some guide books and found two interesting-looking towns to the west, off the Algeciras road.

First, Castella de la Frontera, a tiny, fantastically picturesque village, high on a hill entirely enclosed by city walls.

 
Next, Jimena de la Frontera, a bigger town but familiar format - white-walled streets and squares, with a castle (and cemetary) at the top of the hill. Before we made the inevitable ascent we had lunch in a square (Sal: egg and bacon soup[!] and chicken, me: tuna salad and calemares, plus house rioja).

12th November 2010:

Left Gaucin a day early to give us enough time to visit Sally's sister Wendy, and Graham, in Nerja and get back to Dunkerque in time to get Archie "vetted" to conform to the conditions of his Pet Passport. Sorry to leave. Gaucin, and the area, was perfect, and the house, although far from luxurious, had it's charm. We spent the day packing up, buying wine, etc. and checking Freda. About 4:00 pm we drove to Ronda, then down to the coast. Stopped on the way to admire view and feed Archie.

Through the Malaga outskirts and along coast motorway to Torrox/Nerja. Although we had stayed in Nerja, most recently in 1997, we had never been to Wendy and Graham's house before, so the final mile or two was with the aid of telephoned directions. After unloading Freda and settling Archie (and a glass or two of wine, obviously) we went out to a nice local restaurant (with more wine, obviously).

13th November 2010.

A very pleasant relaxing day with Wendy and Graham.

14th November 2010.

The start of the long drive back to England. We left Wendy and Graham's by about 10:00 am and drove east along the coast, then north to Granada. Having been a few times before, we skirted the town, although we had distant glimpses of the Alhambra. We stopped at Baeza, in the Jaen province. Lots of churches and historic buildings.

 
Then Ubeda, a similar but slightly smaller town.

 
At Ubeda we left our originally-planned route because Sal had found an all-year campsite by some lakes, Lagunes de Ruidera. We drove through rather scrubby, light-industrial, regions for a while then Valdepenas, a wine-growing region, then north-east through Solana on the N430 to Ruidera. Eventually we found the campsite. Quite a lot of campers, mostly motor homes, but no sign of anyone on reception. We set up camp. There was a shop, but closed. We had plenty of food and drink on board so Sal knocked up a very passable rissotto. I manged to find some entertainment via my netbook. Slept like babies.
 

15th November 2010.

The facilities at the campsite were excellent and I eventually emerged from the showers feeling as if I've been par-boiled rather than washed. Despite the well-maintained condition of the site, neither we nor any of the other campers could find anyone to pay; many had been on-site since lunchtime the previous day and hadn't seen anyone. As we wanted to get on the road we all agreed that the only sensible course of action was to drive like hell!

We went half a mile from the site and parked by the lake where we had breakfast and walked Archie around. Fantastic series of lakes, which we hadn't been able to see properly the previous night. Quite a lot of restaurants with lakeside tables and chairs, but closed due to the time of year.

 
Then we drove (N-430) to Munera, then (CM-3106) to La Roda. Very nice countryside, flat, but with beautifully-maintained farms - olives, vines, almonds.

 
Then to the highlight of the day - Cuenca. Fabulous town, on a deep gorge, with stunning architecture. Made a note to visit again if we're ever anywhere near in the future.

 
Then on northwards, through magnificent gorges, through Molina de Aragon and Monreal de Campo, to Zaragossa. Amazingly, we couldn't find any hotels and ended up at a municipal camp site where we stayed in a bungalow (rather fancifully refered to subsequently by Sal as a "log cabin", but I think it owed more in its design to Portakabin).

16th November 2010.

 
Another bright day. Fortified by breakfast in the Portakabin "log cabin" we headed east over parched plains to Leida, a nice-looking modern city, which reminded us of Valencia. Then onwards and upwards towards Andorra.

 
Very attractive scenery (but no pictures) with neat orchards of apples and almonds. Then winding roads up towards snow-capped peaks. We crossed into France to the east of Andorra, at Bourg-Madame. Again, spectacular scenery, driving through snow past church-capped villages and towns. Villefrance, in particular, looked worth a second visit. Eventually we arrived at Perpignan as it was starting to get dark. We drove on to Port Leucate, on a lagoon about 20 kilometers north and found a bed (Hotel Rev') for the night. Good WiFi, so caught up with emails.

17th November 2010.

Slept well, packed up and moved onto the beach for breakfast.

 
No stopping now! We just had to get back to Dunkerque as quickly as possible. Our ferry was booked for 2:00pm on Saturday. Archie had to be checked by a vet between 48 and 24 hours before then, so, ideally, this should mean some time on Friday morning. Today was Wednesday. The plan was to get to the south of Paris tonight and Dunkerque by Thursday night.

Drove through Narbonne (huge cathedral), Beziers (looked fantastic) and on, via A75, to the famous Millau viaduct. On to the Langedoc region and Vallée du Lot then up, up, up to Clermont-Ferrand.

 
As it was getting dark we turned off the motorway to Fontainebleau. We had stopped there a couple of years ago on our way back from Italy and thought it would be a good stop before the ordeal of the final day through Paris and on to Dunkerque. We drove around Fontainebleau for a while but couldn't find any vacant hotels. Decided to drive on towards Paris. We tried a few more hotels without any luck. All seemed full of suited business people relaxing after gruelling seminars. At one (a "Comfort" hotel) a very helpful manager searched the internet, and made some phone calls, to try to find any local hotels with vacancies. There were none, she assured me, in the whole of the south Paris region. While this seemed unlikely, we obviously didn't have time to check every one personally. Our only choice was to continue driving. Much against Sal's wishes, we drove straight through the centre of Paris, leaving via Saint-Denis to the north, on the Lille road. Still no likely-looking hotels! Eventually, we stopped at a motorway parking area, away from the main road, with tables and trees, etc., and bedded down with the truckers. There were toilets, showers and we felt entirely safe.

18th November 2010.

We slept remarkably well and Sal was surprisingly upbeat about the experience. This was only the third time in the holiday that we had slept in Freda (only the second unplanned time) and although it wasn't our first choice it was very useful to have as a back-up.

Still dark when we set off. We stopped at a motorway service station to buy an expensive and not particularly nice breakfast (motorway service station catering must be similar in all countries). Drove through light drizzle to Lille and, at last, Dunkerque. Hurrah! Not classically beautiful, but it has a real charm about it. The architecture still shows signs of the war, with "infills" between older, elegant, buildings. As we had to stay for two nights we looked around longer than usual for a hotel. Eventually booked into Le Transat Bleau, in Malo-les-Bains to the east of the main town, more-or-less on the beach. Handy for Archie first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Lots of good restaurants, classic seafood, good value. After booking into the hotel we tracked down a suitable vet for Archie's pet passport and booked him in for the following morning. Then we had lunch in the central Place Jean Bart. We were starting to feel normal again, a process completed by going back to the hotel and marinading in the shower for a while.

In the evening we ate in the hotel restaurant, terrific meal with a nice bottle of Muscadet. The couple who own the hotel work very hard. We were lucky to book in early as the hotel was "Hôtel complèt" for the next two nights.

19th November 2010.

To the vet. Archie examined, fleaded and wormed. Vet thought Archie was very fit for a fifteen-year-old and reckoned he had another three years in him. Not sure whether this is good or bad news. Archie's not sure, either.

The rest of the day was spent exploring Dunkerque, stopping only for lunch in a very busy seafront restaurant. Moules, obviously. More Muscadet.

20th November 2010.

The final day. Last frenzied buying of wine, beer, and anything Sal thought we wouldn't be able to get in our local Waitrose. Freda's suspension put to the test. Everything went fairly smoothly at the ferry port apart from temporary problem trying to read Archie's electronic tag.