And they're off again ..... well almost !!!

Well, it had to happen. Mr H has started composing music with his spoon on the bottom of a yoghurt pot and I'm washing everything that's not nailed down. Beautiful sunsets but time to move on!!

Before we set off have been visiting a few more local places; gardens,

seaside,

and mountains :).

The car has been returned and we set off on Monday for a leisurely journey back to the UK via Portugal, Spain and France.

So there we are on the day of departure after 5 months of chilling. Wearing matching blue disposable gloves we happily scrubbed the waste pipes whilst air-kissing numerous fellow campers goodbye and what happens? When Mr H presses the magic button to raise the levelling jacks the bus starts to bleed !!! Oh yes, I'm stood outside the happy bus when I notice red liquid dripping from underneath. I thought some animal had been mashed in the process but no such luxury. On investigation we found the hydraulic thingy had sprung a leak from a knackered joint. The system only controls the jacks which were thankfully up so decided to risk heading down to Swan Autos http://www.swanautos.com/index.html hoping they could fit us in.
Survived the 12 km to La Marina spraying fluid all over the road and RV then spent 3 hours camped out on the pavement waiting to be seen, eating anything that didn't need cooking and playing I Spy. The lads were great when they eventually surveyed the damage, totally unflustered, one guy had a fag hanging from the corner of his mouth throughout the whole process, respect! Jointly they tutted, scratched their heads, drilled, tapped, unscrewed and taped the bugger. Cleaned her up but they didn't have enough fluid to fill the reservoir again. So we stayed on Marjal's sister site in Guardamar overnight. http://www.campingmarjal.com/en/ Returned to Swan the next day, filled the reservoir and no leaks Hurrah!! Great job and very reasonable, thanks to Will and the team we're on our way.

Travelled down to La Manga campsite for a couple of nights.
http://www.campings.com/camping-caravaninglamanga-La-Manga-del-Mar-Menor/
Whilst there we decided to cycle along the La Manga del Mar Menor strip as it looked impressive on the local maps. It is a long strip of land between the Mediterranean and a sea water lagoon. We were not disappointed, the Med was all shades of blue and green as we cycled along the beach (another first for us)

 and the lagoon is a calm oasis sheltered from the coastal winds

and fed by a river of sea water flowing under a bridge.

We took two stops on the strip, one for a cafe con leche and one for a fresh-made pizza and garlic bread lunch with beer and views of both sides of the strip.

Aseos newsflash!!! Just before we sign off I'm sure you'd appreciate an update on the toilet situation. After months of brand new, underfloor-heated, state-of-the-art glamping at the new Marjal site I suppose other campsites don't stand a chance in impressing one! My experience so far since leaving Marjal (a whole 2 days) has been eventful. I have encountered louvre doors, very unnerving seeing others walk about while you are on the loo. The cubicles were so small that the toilet roll dispensers were on the wall of the main washroom! So I had to guess how much I would be needing, got that wrong and had to sneak out for more when the coast was clear. The force of flush on one toilet was so good it doubled as a bidet if positioned correctly or if you put the lid down it pressure washed it for you. Equipped with this information and armfuls of loo roll Mr H still had a near miss though, he reported that while pulling the chain to flush the lavvy it came off and nearly took his eye out! He recovered enough to replace it before returning to the RV still a bit shakey. Light-timer switches are popular in cafe toilets in Spain. Ok, I get that electricity should not be wasted but they are tempramental. While using such a facility in the depths of a cafe building the light went out and it was pitch black. I didn't know where the door was let alone the lock or light switch. Good job I was a Brownie cos my training kicked in and I used my lighter to find the lock and door. Wearing your sunglasses in dark places is also not to be recommended.

Well, that was the Murcia region, on to Andalucia next, will update when I can, bye for now.

Adios Posh, Hola Becks!

Firstly, I have to report the sad news of the demise of Posh (our adopted praying mantis). She was not on her usual perch with a good view of Mr H so the mystery began. For two days I repeatedly searched her favourite tree and others in the vicinity to no avail. I found her eventually dead on the ground beneath her favourite branch. So all the time I was looking up all I needed to do was look down! and as the world mourned at the funeral of the late great Whitney Houston I buried Posh in the blazing sunshine with silent dignity, no choir or motor cavalcade just a minutes silence. Lets hope its the only funeral I will ever have to dig the grave with a spoon while wearing swimwear, flip flops and a co-ordinating sun hat. The following day we discovered this rather strange creature;

what is the attraction of our blue see-through windbreak to local wildlife?  Following minimal research, the jury is still out on whether it is a male mantis or a brown grasshopper. I named him Becks anyway. He loitered for two days, stretching his legs occassionally then as we were out in the sun he suddenly took flight circling us and the RV before disappearing, bloody show-off.

Apart from this it has been a slow-news month and we have been less motivated to blog recently as Mr H has been laid low by a serious attack of Spanish man flu which is obviously worse than ordinary man flu whilst I've apparently only had a common cold. We implemented voluntary quarantine procedures to protect our fellow campers from infection, stopping short of marking the bus with a large cross. Many a day and night has been spent designing and crafting our very effective non-patented nasal tampax (other products are available). While I nursed Mr H back to full health (poor lamb) Rosie Whizz supplied much needed medication and sweeties! We thank you, you're a gem. 

As part of Mr H's phased reintegration into campsite activities Big Nige organised a fishing trip. The fishing has not improved and Mr H puts it down to the relative cold spell although he did manage to 'catch' Big Nige wrestling with a chair on the bank on one of the few occassions he was awake.

The annual medieval market in Orihuela provided some diversion, the whole town is transformed and many people visit to enjoy the sights, smells and medieval costumed market traders. The  craft, spice and food stalls were plenty and varied, although the straw lined streets was abandoned this year as it was too windy!  Mr H, Big Nige, Rose and myself enjoyed fresh ground coffee and cooked-to-order doughnuts, how clever those medieval folk were.  

The weather has really brightened up over the past few weeks so we're back in the swing of things now; sun-bathing, cycling, swimming, quizzing and basically pratting about. Activity on the campsite has raised a notch or two recently with lots of departures and new arrivals but Mr H's monitoring strategy has developed into a leisurely cycle around the site on a daily basis to note events in a half-arsed fashion. 

The latest fishing expedition resulted in another small carp for Mr H and he enjoyed a long tussle with a large barble before losing it at the net! At least they have found somewhere with more fish than plastic bags :)

The case of the missing mantis

Here it is folks, evidence of our weekly multi-national cycling jaunts into uncharted territory. We join fellow campers in unco-ordinated, fluorescent cycling gear to explore local villages and places of interest. At the last count it was thirty plus like-minded campers and Molly (a perky Yorkshire Terrier) who is expert at avoiding the wheels of our bikes and the many guard dogs along the way. Our weekly expedition is advertised in the site activity sheet as "I biki bike" (will never understand that one) and the group is led by the un-fazed Mr S. He is an ex-army chappie so each outing is along well-researched, cycle-friendly routes and includes a toilet and cafe stop.  We utilise a system of hazard-warnings through the medium of mime, whistle blasts and manic hand signals. We salute you Mr S and your designated rear guard / sweeper :) 

On one jaunt Mr H snapped this town square in the small town of Cox. Only in rural Spain can you enjoy the January sunshine through perfectly manicured trees while listening to a tinkling fountain and the local church bells whilst sipping strong coffee with a gang of non-english speaking mates, bliss :))

We feel that the locals are mildly entertained by our invasions and very tolerant of our badly-parked bikes and cafe orders of twenty-something cafe con leche although we could be wrong. 

A crisis developed during the week! When drawing back the blinds one sunny morning I noticed that Posh was not in her usual observation post. Posh had taken to sitting in the tree with a view directly opposite Mr H's computing chair, she gazes at him adoringly for hours as he goes about his business. A quick search of the tree confirmed she was missing, only time and a possible ransom note would solve this mystery. We coped with our loss that day in true British style by keeping busy. To avert a potential major locker sorting episode I bravely suggested a radical rearrangement of our windbreaks and external sun lounge. Following a sharp intake of breath, extensive head scratching, random tool selection and planning with a pencil behind his ear, Mr H began the task by removing the wind break posts which by now had become welded in position. That's when he found Posh sunning herself upon a post. 

She posed happily for the camera and I'm sure she smiled when Mr H scooped her up (without safety gear) and placed her back on her favorite tree branch.

Despite the cold winds this week, Mr H has managed to land a fish at last, a small but perfectly formed common carp from a local irrigation channel, whoop whoop!  

He and big Nige refuse to give up on their endeavour to catch the big one or indeed anything that lives in water with a pulse!

Back in the groove

On our return we were looking forward to catching up with our fellow campers only to find our German neighbours next door had disappeared and this beast had moved in!

We'll miss our previous neighbours, their jolly banter and offers of free Schnapps every morning but we Googled the beast and found our new neighbour is a female European Praying Mantis no less. She doesn't move much, needs no walking or cleaning up after and costs nothing to feed. She poses happily for snaps and doesn't object to being prompted to change her position with the sweeping brush, I've called her Posh. Who needs a dog?

Mr H and I are soon back in the post-christmas, camper-type groove and have been cycling, dancing, swimming and shopping all accompanied by daily sunshine and gentle breezes so far. Mr H was well chuffed as he collected a hire car on our return and received a free upgrade to a new Ford Focus, very nice and very reasonable. We're starting to travel further afield in this and a visit to a highly recommended Fish and Chip shop at Quesada was quite a treat, certainly better than any we've had here so far and better than many back home. 

During our jaunts we recently visited the Church of San Roque at Callossa de Segura, situated at the foot of an impressive mountain range.  

Peace, fresh air and panoramic views did not disappoint following a short but steep climb to this pretty church

and apparantly the Church has been visited by other travellers on peregrinations ... spooky or what!!!

Since our return to camp we have been visited by members of the Almafra brotherhood on different occassions. On our return from a routine shopping trip I discovered my slippers had been pegged to the door of the RV! Many culprits came to mind but I decided to play it cool by not mentioning the event to see who cracked under pressure first with a full confession. They returned later and banged on our door in the manner of bailiffs on piece work then proceeded to torture us with loud and off key Christmas carols!
Oh how we miss them all. 

The second group had an enjoyable meal in the resturant then inspected the site with the professionalism of health and safety executives and attempted to negotiate a vastly reduced price to stay! Basically in true geezer style they made an offer nobody could understand! Hugs, air kisses, giggles and handshakes all round. Seasoned Brits abroad, brilliant!!

Mr H and big Nige have been out fishing twice at the Embassament de la Pedrera. 

On his return from their first trip Mr H dramatically recounted his 3 'storming runs' (a technical term I'm informed) although he caught bugger all. On the second trip he managed to land a large plastic bag which, he said, gave a bloody good fight before capture.

If you look on a map you'll see that this reservoir is enormous and you would think you could find a peg to yourself but oh no. Mr H and Nige found a nice little spot on a headland relatively free of snags (of which there are many) and got settled for a nice sit down and a bit of peace and quiet. One hour later three locals arrived and with the whole reservoir at their disposal proceeded to set up right next to them with what appeared to be heavy duty sea fishing gear and an old radio badly tuned to a Spanish station at volume 11. Language was initially a barrier but they all ended the day sharing their luncheon meat, cans of coke and a giggle.

A Happy New Year to all our readers!

Happy new year to one and all. May 2012 bring you all you hope for.

We're back in Spain now after two weeks of manic activity, visiting family and friends in Blighty over Christmas and New Year. It is hard to capture the delight of once again being with our precious family and valued friends in the customary Christmas wind and rain but here goes.

We prepared for our flight by packing with our usual bickering over the contents and weight of our cases. Men will never appreciate the security provided by a well stuffed case full of underwear, PJ's, perfume and makeup. Mr H travels light these days, a three item toilet bag, a cleverley calculated clean pants to each day ratio, crisp white cotton hankies, his Kindle and chewing gum.

We were greeted by tears and hugs from family as we arrived at the airport and the excitement soon kicked in as we discussed our plan of action and daily itinery while being driven on the wrong side of the road to our billet for the next 6 days! Must mention the ecstatic greeting we received from our daughters dog Lucy, once she realised it actually was us walking into the kitchen she crashed around crying loudly while gathering every toy she possesed as gifts for us and did a little wee in her excitement, just magic.

We joined up with family to do battle with fellow Christmas shoppers in the grey drizzle, howling winds and the endless queues at the tills with a strange sense of excitement. Maybe it's because we had escaped the stressful build up to Christmas in sunny Spain but in our previous life Christmas shopping started in early June and ended in the January sales!  

I would spend weeks putting up my lovingly collected christmas decorations and four themed trees;
1 black and white glass baubles, beads, fabric bits and feathers
2 chocolates and candy canes
3 miniature plain and glitter baubles
4 my show stopper covered in blue/green feathers, all manner of tiny shoe decorations (slingbacks and stilletos included) sequin encrusted handbags, miles of blue/purple and green beads all lit up with retina burning neon blue LED lights.

Bear in mind that this was all to the dismay of Mr H who would be more than happy with a solitary sprig of fresh holly from the local graveyard in his freshly baked christmas sausage roll thank you very much. So this was a first for us. We completed all our Christmas shopping in one day (23rd December) without tears, mental breakdown or a cross word.

Mr H took on a personal challenge, he had accepted the mission of taking a parcel for a fellow camper in Spain back to England to be posted. The parcel contained lovingly knitted garments for family pets no less! Imagine the scene; Mr H tucks the precious parcel under his arm and leans into the wind and rain determined to complete the task and honour his promise to our friends. Off he limps (yes he had a gammy leg at the time due to a swollen achilles tendon) to join the long queue at the post office, no concessions were made for his predicament as he awaited his turn but this just made him more determined to get the job done. When asked at the desk by the tired and bored post office technician "is there anything of value in the parcel?" Mr H choked back his tears and replied "very little monetary value Miss but the contents were hand-made with love and care"; the response.... " will that be first or second class post then?"
Whatever happened to the true spirit of Christmas! 

In contrast I have experienced the noisy pleasures of the pantomine Cinderella at a local theatre with my mother, at 82 she was as verbal and rowdy as the children, we giggled at the jokes and ate toffee until a little nauseous, a special memory day to treasure for us both. I also experienced for the first time Imax 3D cinema, and a Boxing day visit to Anfield to watch Liverpool play with my two fast-growing-up grandchildren and son-in-law.

During our visit I realised that suprise attacks were now required before hugging and smelling (only a woman will understand this need to inhale their scent!) my lovely grandsons to avoid major embarrassment in front of their friends as they are far to cool to be seen hugging Nan these days. Although one did spend an hour or two playing with an empty box whilst wearing impossible layers of gifted designer clothing and holding every present both he and the dog received. 

We were treated to endless home-made and Mr Blumenthal-created festive fare throughout. Being with close family and friends again back in the UK provided some reassurance for us that we have all survived the initial major transitions of our chosen adventure. So we returned to Spain having thoroughly enjoyed our visit and looking forward to catching up with our friends at camp and donning our shorts and tees to chill out in the sun.

The saga of the Licencia de Pesca

We have evolved a flexible routine based around shopping, cycling, swimming, washing and socialising, pretty much like back in the UK but rather warmer :) Visited some old friends in the Almafra brotherhood (and sisterhood!) for lunch on Sunday. Great to see everyone again, talk rubbish, eat and laugh just like old times.

Mr H would like to go fishing as there are Carp and Barbel in the rivers and lakes so he's on a quest to get a fishing license (licencia de pesca). There is no national fishing license in Spain and for the Costa Blanca there is a regional license but it's taking some getting. Four weeks so far with no success. Following various sources he's tried Tourist info, tackle shops, police (as apparantly there is a hefty fine if you don't have one), the port office, sailing club, several branches of the Caja Rural (building society) and the local town hall. He has spoken to a different person each time and gets conflicting advice each time. Communication is difficult as not many speak any English and Mr H's grasp of Spanish is still limited to ordering cervezas and patatas fritas. Still, he is persistent and has enlisted the help of our good neighbour big Nige and together they are determined to crack this one.

Nigel spoke to a receptionist whose cousin goes fishing and following some phone calls and to'ing and fro'ing he managed to get the right forms filled in and letters signed (as we're not residents) and the address of the right department to go to in Alicante.

http://www.gva.es/portal/page/portal/inicio/procedimientos?id_proc=681

Armed with all this Mr H and I set off on the train into the big smoke. We found streets not identified on our map and became rather lost. No fear, we visited the large hotel we had passed several times during our ever-widening circuits to ask for directions. Even when pointed in the right direction by a very nice english-speaking gentleman we managed to arrive at the building ten minutes after it closed for the day, bugger!!!!

We then got lost for another hour trying to find our way back to the train station! Thank the lord for an emergency stop at Burgerking then home again. Mr H has gritted his teeth and vowed to see this quest to it's bitter end. I feel it would be easier to acquire the Ark of the Covenant or the Holy Grail than a chuffin fishing license. Mr H and Nigel have held a strategy meeting and intend to go again next week armed with an array of forms, euros and true British grit.

On Monday Mr H and Nigel set off bright and early to Alicante by train. This time the office was open and after obtaining a ticket from the machine and a short wait they sat face to face with the guardian of the licenses!!! Handed over the forms, letter and passport and the official filled in another form in triplicate (modelo 046 SARA). So close! They then had to take these forms to the CAM bank and pay the fee. 25 euros for 3 years. Initially they got in the wrong queue at the bank but recovered swiftly and handed over the cash with the forms to be stamped. Returned to the local office and they received a 3 year licencia de pesca, result!!!!!!

We all celebrated their fruitful campaign with a house specialty and a beer back at base camp. Well done lads, so proud.
Just need to find some fish now :))

Feliz Navidad One and all XXX

Sunshine and Sprinkles

Settling down to life on the site now

it's a fair way to the beach at Guardamar but we take the occasional expedition there;

and to Elche

Have been sampling the local chinese buffet along with our neighbours which is all you can eat for 10 euros. This is no ordinary chinese buffet, you order from an extensive choice of starters and main courses and your food is freshly cooked and served in a modern restaurant by very pleasant staff. The evening evolved into a co-ordinated sampling of nearly every dish on the menu by us all and every dish was excellent.

I joined the line dancing with the fabulous instructer Angie in charge. I must say I managed to pull off some spectacular moves  but most of them bore no resemblence to what the rest of the class were doing and were performed in the opposite direction. My fellow class mates and the instructor were very tolerant and have invited me back again next week, I must be the in-house entertainment. Mr H agreed to have a go at dance lessons this week unfortunately for us it was salsa. We paid attention and diligently attempted the steps. I was trying to lead and Mr H was sweating like a bull chanting in my ear one, two, three, hip! By the end of the hour we had changed the instructions to one, two, three, dislocated me hip. Decided it's not natural to see Mr H mincing like a pro and am more than happy with his northern soul influenced shuffle on the dancefloor.

The past week has been a hive of activity in between the heavy downpours (which we understand are untypical). It's a good job Mr H applied his engineering skills to construct some wooden supports for the levelling jacks before the rain, some pitches are unusable as vehicles have sunk up to the axles. The staff here spring into co-ordinated action and arrive equipped with tow-rope, dumper/tow truck, wooden boards, rakes, sand and plenty of muscle. No lives have been lost and all vehicles sucessfully rescued and relocated.

Between the occasional spells of rain which according to the local forecast are known as 'sprinkles' we get plenty of sun and it was rather surreal to be sunbathing whilst Christmas carols were being piped over the tannoy!! We then had the swimming pool and spa to ourselves which was 'esplendido' but again surreal as music from the 'King and I' was playing in the background.

Mr H has installed an 'extend-a-stay' joint to the gas tank and had the RV certificated so we can now run our appliances off the refillable propane bottles. The gas engineer spoke no English but was very efficient and expertly produced hand drawn plans of our gas system in triplicate as per certification requirements. Mr H never ceases to suprise me in his endless pottering, today I found him prostrate under the RV with a reel of TV aerial wire and was greeted by "can you see it yet? I'm shoving it through the hole". Now I was able to ascertain that he was re-routing the TV aerial direct from the external plug but god only knows what the neighbours thought. As I write this blog he is lounging in his chair poised with his beloved fly swatter planning to suprise our resident fly. The fly does not appear threatened as it has just buzzed around the RV in slow motion then landed on the fly swatter. Mr H's killer reflexes kicked in (must be the hot blooded salsa session) and with a celebration like he scored the winning goal at Wembley the fly is no more. Life as we now know it!