Towards the mountains

 I have found the combination of loads of mobile data and Google Translate a very useful holiday tool. In a calendar month I will have used almost all of my 11GB of data.

Although my Spanish Duolingo ‘web learning’ before we left, gave me a good start to the language, I forgot to pack my notebook of ‘special words’, so perhaps used Google more than I expected.

The Google translate app is easy to use and if necessary it will offer a spoken translation, although I’ve hardly used that.

One surprising feature is that it can perform direct text recognition to translation. Just using the camera you hover over the text and English, in my case is superimposed. Like this…

With more complex language the translation is a little less accurate but nevertheless it is very handy.

We were by now watching the weather forecast for the northern coast and made the decision that we wouldn’t head for the Picos. What’s the point in going there only to meet cool wet weather? The Pyrenees were showing a better forecast and we have only been in the Spanish side once, for a couple of days, so there was plenty to ‘go for’.

So we confirmed a change of course and headed for ‘somewhere in the Pyrenees’. First though, was another hill-top town and magnificent church and then another open road.

On the way we paid a return visit to a magnificent canyon which is just stunning from the mirador de Galiana at 1,120m.

Later we did the usual turn off the road into a neighbouring village and spied a bar with plenty of activity. Lunch!

Inside I almost had to push my way to the bar, as there were about eight locals sitting along it. I used my best Spanish to order coffees and some tapas but one of the guys decided to recommend the tortilla and we were served with a sizeable portion, plus the anchovy and quails egg ratione and an egg stuffed with tuna mayonnaise.

 

The barman asked if I was English or American. One of the locals was from Washington State “but I’m not going back”. He said he was looking after his kids until they were old enough for him find some work. That’s all his life story I gathered in a snatched conversation.

Later we stopped next to a lake and had a swim, it was Saturday and quite busy with some Spanish but also a fair number of French who were there for the duration.

We then embarked on a search for an overnight stop which was supposed to be up a narrow, extremely loose track up the side of a valley.

So we drove the narrow, extremely loose track, very slowly in low gear, until Google indicated a right fork. It was even narrower and steeper and so tiny that we assumed it wasn’t the right one. Google rerouted us but all that did, was take us further and further along the extremely narrow loose track until we found somewhere to turn around.

I walked up the other track but there was no way I was going to drive it. Instead we headed up the valley towards Formigal and found a place at the end of the tarmac above a village where we spent a pleasant night.

Traditions

It’s so ‘fairy story’ here, biblical might be a better description. A castle on a hill, the young shepherd with his flock, the hunters and a small village, Riba de Santiusta. That’s where we spent the night, a little further north as we moved towards the final week.

We had approached the hamlet, again using park4night which took us a few km off the main road, into an area of very slightly higher ground and then suddenly, there was another castle. We are used to this now but still, it was a rather wonderful sight.

The hamlet was apparently deserted and we found the spot at one end, next to a water tap hydrant and a tiny 16C bridge.

In true Enid Blyton fashion we scrambled up the hill, to explore the ruined castle but found it had a huge iron gate barring our entry. We had to be content with scrambling around on the rocks and looking down to the hamlet.

Below in the field we heard the bells of a well behaved flock of sheep, happily munching grass and not straying into neighbouring fields. This was the work of a shepherd and his dog who were both sitting close-by, idling away the afternoon.

Eventually they moved towards the bridge and it was a perfect scene. The farmer, who had arrived in a pickup along a stony track, was handed a small lamb by the shepherd. It was much too tender to walk in the flock, as they squeezed together to cross the bridge. He carried it and led the flock from the front, over the bridge and onto the castle slopes.

They walked slowly up the hill and I think the flock was lodged in the castle overnight. The next morning they were brought down and onto another field for the day.

The river was full of frogs which made a deafening sound most of the time, not just at dusk. It was fun to hear them.

The village claims to be on the route taken by Don Quixote, it’s a little like most places in England have claims that they housed Mary Queen of Scots. In earlier times it was a crossing point of some importance, between two plateaus.

It was hard to see what, if anything happens here today. In Spain it is even harder than in France to work out if there’s people in the houses.

We saw no-one until the next morning at about 8am, two elderly ladies walked past us and along the river. One had a small spade and an hour or so later they returned, with lots of kitchen garden greenery.

It was not a busy place.

Camping at the lake

A notice board at a beauty spot we visited had asked walkers not to feed the wildlife ‘as it may change their diet’. This doesn’t appear to have been a detriment to Herring gulls in the UK, as they seem to thrive on meals of fish & chips and ice cream. In fact I read today that they are a protected species and the nest a pair have made on top of a police car in Bridport cannot be disturbed until the young have fledged!

At this beautiful lake where we camped overnight at another suggested ‘wild place’, a fisherman arrived at about the same time as the sun was warming our canvas, urging us to get up.

He was ready to chat as soon as I emerged with my morning cuppa but was a little less engaging once I’d told him I was Inglese. Of course that was more a language issue than anything else and I reassured him that I could converse in Spanish, This isn’t exactly true but a Carp in England is a Carp in Spain so we were off to a good start.

Fortunately for this friendly guy there were no notices about changing the diet of the Carp in this lake. It was just as well, as his first activity was to launch about 500Kg of ground bait that could easily be from yesterday’s menu del dia, using this fishing line bomb. It explodes on impact and dumps the contents in the water. This attracts the fish to his casting area and they later jump onto his hook.

He seemed to know what he’s doing but the Carp were having none of it! There’s a lot of standing and even more sitting in this form of the sport, as once the fishing lines are ‘out’, dangling the hook below the float, the fisherman does nothing except check the rod for movement.

This lake and several others are known as Mar de Castilla it’s a huge expanse of beautiful blue water, east of Madrid, with forest and rocky outcrop slopes. We had a perfect night and a great most of the next day pitched just above the waterline.

The shoreline is very accessible and maybe it gets busy sometimes. We could honestly have stayed there for a week. The water was a lovely temperature and the sun strong and warm.

Wild at a castle

A few nights ago I was at my temperature limit trying to sleep. I think 28C is it. Maybe with training I could manage warmer but on a relaxing holiday I can just about drop-off at 28C.

One night it had been much cooler but the temperature rose during the dark to 25C. That was a strange feeling. It was the beginning of an early summer heatwave from the Sahara, which even made the Radio 4 news “Andalucia is experiencing temperatures 10 degrees above the May average”.

Yesterday morning at the 6 o’clock wee, the temperature was just 4C. I think that’s a record for a late Spring /early Summer trip. This is mainly due to our height which is around 950m, so similar to that of Scafell in the English Lake District  

We didn’t mind. This is where we stayed.

It was another unplanned stop for which we have the Park4night app to thank. This app will show you places to stop near you / a point on the map. These can range from proper campsites to on-street parking in a town. Anywhere really that people with campervans or motorhomes have used and reviewed for either daytime over overnight stops.

So it was for our castle. The Head of Overnight Stops interrogated the app and it suggested a 10 minute drive off-road along a gravel and rock track, “not really suitable unless you have high clearance”. This is to the south east of Madrid, near the hamlet of Saelices.

We drove the track which was uninspiring at first, only to find that the castle, Castillo de Saelices and an abandoned homestead at the end, were even more amazing than we had imagined.

It was a clear night without a sound. The moon has gone now so it was dark and starry.

I saw a celestial phenomenon that I’ve not seen before. After dusk but before real dark, I saw several satellites reflecting the sun. They appeared as little momentary pinpricks in my area of view. It’s a little like the eye test when you look straight ahead and watch for pinpricks of light in your peripheral vision, clicking a button when you see one. They seemed to pop up in random places, away from the setting sun. Maybe it’s the low orbit Starlink satellites.

I have tried to Goooogle Starlink to see if I’m correct but it’s only served to scare me about eye problems associated with vitreous gel and blue field entopic phenomenon, problems which appear to manifest in the daytime not night. So I will look again tonight!

After waiting long enough for the sun to warm us we had breakfast and another good look around and at the view.

We hadn’t seen another soul since arrival. This just doesn’t happen in most places except Spain it seems.

Rather reluctantly we drove back to the tarmac. 

Lunch

Driving in Spain is an absolute pleasure. The roads are very under utilised. We have usually plotted routes on Google Maps using the ‘avoid motorway’ option yet the roads offered are frequently straight and bypass villages so there isn’t an obligatory ‘slow down’ needed as there so often is in France.

It’s just not possible to over emphasise the spectacular nature of the landscapes. There is nowhere with which to compare this country. So much of it is unable to be farmed and it is left in the raw, rocky, dramatic state. The gorges, outcrops, mountains, lakes and reservoirs are too numerous to mention. If one were to highlight on a map these regions it would be covered in coded colours.

We dropped into yet another small town for morning coffee and unusually I went to the bar rather than staying seated outside. The tapas looked attractive and thought “why not?”, so I ordered one anchovy and one jamon.  The barman placed two of each on the plates, even though I reminded him in my best Spanish hand flapping that I only wanted one. He seemed to suggest that they were on the house.

So there we were, truly embracing the life. Coffee and tapas in the late morning sun, in a lovely village square.

A doorway suggested Menu del Dia would be served for €11 which was tempting and it’s been a while since the last one (€8.50) but what to do, as it wasn’t 2pm? These places DO NOT start service before then. We peeped inside and it was empty but all the tables were set with white tablecloths.

We wandered around and caught the end of the village market. The stalls always seem to be the same with focus on clothes, fruit and veg and sometimes pulses, nuts and sweets. We bought fruit and veg to replace supplies and also had managed to refill our water from one of the village hydrant-style water taps.

Then we kept an eagle eye on the time and the restaurant entrance. An ambulance pulled-up and a young woman and older guy got out (from the front not the back) and walked slowly across the square. Surely not, they wouldn’t go for a restaurant meal would they?

They walked up and went inside. This was it! We went too and were shown to a table and as we tucked into our three modest courses, the place filled up with mainly workers in various states of work clothes who all picked from the menu.

It was another example of different culture. Who spends €11 on their weekday dinner or takes an hour for it? Builders and construction workers that I know often don’t stop. Life is different and that’s what makes it interesting to travel.

In the window of a shop there was a decorated tile with a nice picture and the words in Spanish said,

Not a day goes by when we are not in paradise for a moment.

That made me think.

Boar

The weather was about to wobble. Only a little. Forecast temperatures would drop to the mid teens to low 20s rather than mid 30s. So we continued our slow journey north, aiming to get to the Picos mountains to the west of Santander, for the last full holiday week. We planned to take our time as after all, the journey is the holiday.

We love stopping in a small town or village to have a morning coffee. Now we are Spanish this is at about noon. These coffees don’t break the bank, as they are about €1.30, sometimes provided with a smile but often just with a grunt, at these owner operated bars. With little obvious marketing, they just get on with serving the locals and anyone else who happens to drop in.

The  village centres can be stunning. This place is off the main route and we turned here to buy bread for lunch. Google maps is used to navigate but also to search for panaderia. 

One advantage of a Landy or a VW Transporter camper over a large motorhome, is that you drive and park as normal. In the popular large motorhomes you have no chance of driving many of the smaller village streets and finding a parking place your size is certainly a challenge.

We go nearly anywhere but need to be careful with signs and trees, even at only 2.6m height.

It must be nice to live here and have weather (climate) that allows so much outside stuff. I especially like to see the retirees sitting or standing, chatting to one another in the sun or shade.

Sometimes an older guy watches the world go by, sitting alone. Billy Young used to do that, in a village near us but he was the exception rather than the rule (in more cases than one 🤣).

We picked a campsite by a river Camping Llanos de Arance where a small group of school kids were staying to kayak and ride bikes. We are very ‘off season’ so the place is almost empty, whereas the river will mean it’s very full in a few weeks.

This has great clean facilities, by which we campers mean, toilets, wash basins, showers and somewhere to wash pots, with plenty of hot water.

The whole site is ring-fenced and you might have assumed that this is for security. Well it is but it’s protection from four legged creatures!

Here’s a couple of short videos:

These creatures are a little scary as they have no manners and will root-up anything they can. You can see their activities sometimes, where the ground has been roughly dug-up. It looks like what a ‘normal’ pig does, as they also turn ground into a ploughed field but these boars are wild and go where they please - except into our campsite of course.

Cazorla

This was parked by the local policeman who is ready to supervise another Church procession. Written on the side is ‘Local Cazorla’. Cazorla is the town. I wonder what would happen if we did the same in the UK?

Many towns and villages have scenes constructed using tiles set into walls. These describe an aspect of their history. There may be as many as a dozen spread around the town or village. I’m not sure how they survive the weather but they are nice to look at and to try to translate.

We arrived here in Cazorla for a couple of nights and we knew what to expect as we came four years ago. It’s an amazing town, hanging tightly on the flank of a small mountain range and looks spectacular in day but particularly by night.

The funny thing is that our first walk into town on Saturday evening, coincided with the town’s procession in honour of their patron saint, Virgin de La Cabeza. I think this translates to Virgin of the Head. Hmmm not sure what happened there. 

This procession was a little less formal than the one in Ronda a couple of weeks ago, some people were wearing jeans! We enjoyed watching with the same or enhanced concern for the ‘icon carriers’ who seemed to have adjusted their carrying height using their footware (or not)!

In our three road trips to Spain we have been slightly in awe of the way that the generations integrate during the evening. After the procession passed through the towns very narrow streets and finished at the spectacular ‘open air’ church, the town went quiet. We found a bar and sat outside with a beer and enjoyed the slight too-ing and fro-ing. One beer turned into a ratione of tapas and then another beer.

We walked back through the streets to the other side of town and as we wandered, tables began to fill up. It wasn’t long before we found it hard to find a free seat. Four generations were out. By the time we had eaten more tapas and were ready to walk back to the campsite, it was well after 10pm and the place was heaving, still four generations enjoying themselves together.

The Sierra de Calzorla continue from here to the north for many miles. It’s yet another huge range of rock pushing up through the ‘floor’ of olive groves, where cultivated and dense bush where it isn’t, as it’s too steep.

We moved a little north and planned a short walk up a valley with a rushing river, a popular spot when it’s busy, judging by the size of the car park.

It was already late morning but we just took water ‘as we are only going to walk a mile or two’. The scenery was terrific, the temperature was high but the track easy and we started off at a fast pace. We enjoyed this leg stretch and just kept going, looking at the deep pools, full of fish and interesting rock formations.

We turned around at the small hydro-electric plant and walked back at the same pace. In all about 11 miles at about 18 minute miles 💪

What idiots we were not to take a snack. We were nearly fainting by the end.