Garrucha Market.

On Sunday we went out and met a friend who is a regular reader of my blog. He loves the bits where we get ourselves in a pickle or some thing unwelcome happens. It makes him laugh. But he hates the factual bits, the Political bits and anything he considers ‘Boring”.

So this blog should at least please one reader.

Friday we set off on the bus to Garrucha where there is usually a market.

Initially the market filled the streets that ran parallel with the beach road. It crowded into the narrow streets which wer clogged with people all trying to walk and shop whilst old ladies obstructed their path with shopping trolleys laden with Potatoes and other fresh produce. The long leads attached to tiny white dogs acted like trip wires for the unwary whilst Spanish women stood in knots in the middle of the walkway exchanging gossip. Muslim women in full Burka prowled the streets looking for bargains.

The smell of Roast Chicken filled the air until you walked past the Flower stall, then the scent of Jasmin took over. Sweet stalls offered instant Dental Decay whilst the crowd satisfied their desire for yet more fake T shirts and Adidas trainers.

It was an intoxicating mix and one most tourists and many residents couldn’t resist.

The streets were lined with coffee shops and bars that gratefully snared the shoppers with offers of Coffee, Beer and Tapas.

But a few years ago for some reason, the market was moved from the back streets to the actual port car park, which was sensible but didn’t have the appeal of the street market.

It was still popular non the less.

Then things changed, yet again.

Last year the whole sea front (Passeo) was dug up and a new modern replacement was installed.
This meant there were diggers and cranes, noise and dust where there was once sunshine and relaxation. Where there were buskers and tourists there was construction. It was almost impossible to sit outside any of the bars and restaurants without a fully functioning dust mask so people stayed away.

This year when we alighted from the bus at our usual stop there was no sign of the market and more worryingly, no sign of the crowds that we had expected. We walked along the length of the Port wall without bumping into anyone or having to manoeuvre around obstructions.

It was beautiful. The new walking area was perfectly manicured, clean and surprisingly level.

Without a sign of the market we were a bit deflated, so we decided to stop for Coffee and re-assess our plans. Across the road was El Faro Belga our first encounter with the Belgian colonisation of this part of Spain.

There is a Belgian Bakers at Burganvillas, a Belgian Bar On the Playa in Mojacar and at least one new Belgian shop in Mojacar.

Coffee at El Faro

It looked modern and clean, had some available tables outside in the sunshine and was close by.

The perfect choice.

I ordered two Coffee’s and enquired about the market?

First view of the market

We were told that if we took any of the roads that run off the beach road (Paseo del Malecon) and went right up to the top of the hill, we would find the market. In fact it was just over the brow of the Hill with stunning view across the new By Pass.

Before we left I thought it might be prudent to use the loo as the Coffee had worked its magic, so i wandered to the back of the Restaurant where there was a shiny new cubicle with neat tiled walls, a nice clean basin and toilet paper.

In the past I have found it prudent to check all the essentials before using the loo. Often you find there is no seat or no lock on the door, no toilet paper or soap, which can be problematic after the event.

This particular venue had all the essential.

Now we Brits find it a bit off putting having to put the soiled paper in a bucket rather than flush it down the toilet, but the Spanish drains cant always cope, so ‘when in Rome’.

After I had finished I put the paper in the basket provided, got up, flushed and started to wash my hands.

One last cursory check to make sure I’d left everything ship shape and I was off.

Can you imagine my horror when I saw my deposits were still there in the bottom of the pan. Looking as fresh as when I put them there.

Undeterred, I flushed again.

Then the panic set in.

I watched the water level rise to the point where it almost spilt over.

My immediate reaction was to ‘leg it,’ to run out of the Cafe, shout a warning to Jaki and keep going till I was out of sight.

I dont know why this is my default response to a crisis?

In the past several of my work colleagues and I decided we would make some extra money by cutting down bunches of Mistletoe from an aviation storage depot on our station ground, and sell it in the run up to Christmas. We were allowed into the site by security where we put a ladder up into a particularly laden tree and the Station Officer clambered up and started cutting huge bunches of Mistletoe. However there was a slight slip, he fell and his ankle got snagged on some branches.

He ended up hanging from the Tree like an angry, cursing Pinata.

Our first reaction was to run away, but as he was our driver, we had to go back and cut him down. We abandoned our money making enterprise and went back to the station empty handed.

So on this occasion I realised I should stay and deal with the emergency as best I could,

There was a plunger on the floor (which suggested to me that the toilet had blocked up before) and a brush, but the water was at a critical level and last time i had tried using a plunger in a toilet, it hadn’t ended well.

The only thing to do was to report it to the staff.

Now my command of Spanish is poor. I can order some drinks and some food but i have never tried to have a conversation about the plumbing (or lack of) in a Spanish Toilets.

It looked particularly daunting so I kept it simple.

With some pointing and holding of my nose, I was able to convey to the Patron that there was an event which he might want to investigate, before the next customer came in.

Then I encouraged Jaki to join me as I ran around the corner and hid.

This isn’t my first encounter with a broken toilet.

When I met the first Mrs ND we had to go to Manchester to meet her parents for the first time.

It was a particularly uncomfortable affair for all concerned which wasn’t helped by their dodgy flush.

They warned me that the flush some times ‘played up’ and had to be pumped to get it to work.

At the end of the weekend, we were saying our goodbyes before setting off on the drive back to Bristol.

I decided to use the loo before we left and predictably the toilet wouldn’t flush. I didn’t panic. I left things as they were and took my case out to the car, thinking I would return and re-flush before we left.

We were some where north of Gloucester when I remembered I had left them a particularly large parcel as a fare well present.

It might have been the beginning of the end for that relationship. We just never seemed to build any trust after that.

How could I ever warm to some one who booby traps their toilet?

A case of stupidity.

30/4/24

Pete picked us up at 4 am this morning and drove us to the Airport dropping us at the drop off zone, for which we pay the sum of £6. If you stop anywhere other than the drop off zone, in the airport complex there is a £100 fine.

Nice to think we had the same driver as the Chief Constable of Avon and Somerset Police?

It only took about 35 minutes to get there as he was able to drive through the clean air zone in Bristol, where as last time i drove my Diesel, I had to skirt around the outside.

It was a short walk from the drop off into the Terminal where we had to make a few minor adjustments to the baggage. I hadn’t locked the zips on my suitcase. This isn’t to stop anyone opening the case, it’s still easy to do, but it does guard against the zip coming undone accidentally. All I had to secure it was a key ring from the front door key, so I slipped that through both zippers and hoped for the best.

We were reasonably practiced at checking the baggage in after our trial run to Madrid, so we were soon shot of the suitcases. In fact, we got them on the conveyor so quickly, we didn’t get chance to see what they actually weighed.

Last night we were balancing them on the bath scales in a vain attempt to ensure we didn’t have any excess baggage. Although they were both underweight we couldn’t get any more stuff in them which meant I had to carry an awful lot more stuff in my back pack than I had anticipated. As a result it was extremely heavy and forcing the extra items into the bag, I managed to break the Zip, so we were doing major repairs at 10pm last night.

Next, we went through the bit where they make you strip down to your underpants incase you’re carrying any explosive cosmetics or you have a time bomb tucked into the cheeks of your arse and that was as stressful as usual. There were big signs everywhere telling us that Bristol Airport was investing £millions into making this a state of the art experience, yet it looked complete and utter chaos.

There was a bun fight for plastic trays as we were all crammed into a space the size of a garden shed, stripping off shoes and belts. Loading trays with coats, bags and electrical items. I was concerned that my wallet, I phone, laptop and Kindle, went off on a bizarre Helter Skelter ride without me being able to monitor it.

At the other end of the conveyor ( after I had been scanned by their new state of the art scanner) I tried to retrieve my valuables but other people’s tray’s were crashing into mine whilst their owners were grabbing and snatching at their valuable before they hit the buffer at the end.

My tray ended up on the floor spilling my last remaining British Currency, my wallet and my back pack. The coins rolled into the crowd whilst my other tray with the electric good, slammed into the multiple pile up at the end of the carousel. It was like a car crash on the M25.

This wasn’t the only Baggage mishap I suffered this morning.

At Murcia airport we were waiting at the baggage carousel and amazingly our bags came off almost immediately, side by side. Now as Jaki cant use one arm, which is still in plaster, I was responsible for retrieving both bags.

I managed to get her’s easily enough but by the time I had puled it off the belt and stood it on the floor, my bag had gone half way around the baggage hall. I caught up with it but it had been laid down on its side with its wheels pointing toward me.

I managed to spin it round whilst jogging along side. Then I hooked my fingers into the handle ready to swing it off the conveyor onto the floor, It was at this point that I hit traffic.

All those other people were now off our flight and were trying to grab their bags too. They weren’t prepared to get out of the way for me. Sadly at this point I realised my hand was firmly wedged into the handle of the suitcase and any thought of letting go and waiting for it next time around, were folly. Me and that there suitcase were on a journey together, and we were not gonna be separated.

I mowed down at least three people as I ran through the crowd keeping astride my Suitcase.

It was like a scene from the movies where the cop is chasing the baddy through crowded streets and keeps bumping into people whilst shouting.

“Out of My Way. Police”.

Where as i was shouting.

“Out of my way, Please”.

`Once this crisis had been resolved we exited the terminal and our shuttle bus was waiting.

They checked our names, loaded our bags and waited for one more passenger before setting off. It wasn’t very sunny in Murcia and there was a strong wind, but I was glad to be back in Spain.

The journey was about 2 hours but the route was a bit circuitous as it first went to

HUERCAL OVERA, then EL PILAR (though i thought it was Pinar but perhaps thats a different place)? Then we had a strange stop at urbanisation De Alfaix where the coach reversed down a road for about two miles, at speeds in excess of those achieved on the motorway. Quite extraordinary.

There was another stop at Turre and then we were on Mojacar Playa where the driver turned right and went all the way to Price Brown before turning around and making its way back up the Beach to our drop off outside the Continental Hotel. I took a picture of the beach right outside Georgias Hotel and sent it to her in the hope it would get her excited.

I am pleased to say Exclusive Airport Shuttles were excellent and great value for money.

From the Beach Road we had a bit of a walk up the hill to our house dragging two suitcases and 4 bags behind us. It was hard work and we were knackered by the time we got there.

It was nice to see the old place. It looked welcoming and Paul has obviously had a few repairs done since last year with new patio doors and shutters up stairs.

WE hastily unpacked then set off to Delphin Dorado for lunch.

I had managed two slices of Low carb toast at 3.15 this morning but Jaki hadn’t eaten anything. She was feeling a bit ‘sicky’ first thing so the Yoghurt I bought for her breakfast is still in the fridge. So we were both starving.

Now I’m not gonna record every meal we have this trip. You are probably bored with that by now. I might make a mention and if there is some thing exceptional I might report it but I think youv’e all had enough of my eating adventures?

Unless, you say differently?

Just to say Delphin Dorado is like a working mans Cafe here and all the builders eat there. we had the menu del dia at €15 each for three courses and they were very good, plus two pints of beer, and two Coffees, with bread and alioli to start for €32 total.

Once we had finished eating, we checked out the small supermarket but it was closed so we headed home for a Siesta. Jaki seems to have gone off but although i was tired, i couldn’t sleep so I decided to start the blog. That is guaranteed to send people to sleep.

In a previous blog i explained that I didn’t find comedy very funny but i did laugh at events.

Well this was a classic example.

Whilst waiting for the bags to arrive at Murcia Air port I nipped to the gents where i watched a guy try to dry his hands underneath the Paper towel dispenser. He obviously mistook it for a hand blower so he spent some time shaking his hands about in an attempt the get the machine started.

I just thought that was highly amusing.

Toledo by Train

Warning: This Blog contains serious amounts of Moaning! Reader discretion is advised.

Some times you do things when you’re on Holiday that you wouldn’t otherwise do.

Years ago I worked for the RMT Union and they expected their staff to travel on public transport where ever possible. So, when i had to go up to London I was expected to go by train, Which was fine. Though they frowned upon me buying a first class ticket even though it meant i could work all the way up and all the way back and if you bought them far enough in advance, they were dirt cheap.

However, they soon recognised the stupidity of using public transport in the South West.

Going in to Bristol for a meeting was a classic example.

Let’s say I caught the bus to Parkway Railway Station, which only took 17 minutes but it ran every two hours. So, unless I set out at 0500hrs it was n’t an option.

So I drove the 5 miles each way ( 10 x 45 p = £4.50) which meant parking at the railway station. A further £9 a day.

Then a train into Bristol Temple meads. lets say £10 ish return.

Then another bus from there to where ever the meeting was taking place.

Cost on average £25 there and back for a days meeting.

But I didn’t start work till 9 so I would be at Temple meads at the earliest by 10am.

At the meeting by 11 and Dinner would be at one ,then I would have to leave again at 3 pm so I didn’t incur overtime.

My working day consisted of 3hours working and 4 hours traveling, even on a good day. It was hopeless.

As a result, I was given the ‘concession ‘of driving to and from meetings when they were local.

It still meant i had to catch an awful lot of trains (Penzance for example) but I wasn’t on them all the time.

Which is just as well as they are, in my opinion, noisy, smelly, frightening things, especially when they catch fire, which they often did.

So when Jaki came up with a plan to take a Train ride to Toledo I didn’t think too much about Toledo, I was more concerned about the Train.

As it turned out the Train ride was quite pleasant.

The 40 minute journey from Atocha station was clean and comfortable and even the station experience was pleasant.

gate to platform

We walked down to the station where we sought out the platform which was right on the ground floor (Baja) close to the garden we had visited earlier in the week.

We were told you couldn’t take food and drink onto the train and it had no Buffet car so Breakfast would have to wait.

As we hadn’t had time to stop for breakfast we bought a Coffee at the stand opposite the departure gate. But for once they made the Coffee extra hot and we had to leave most of it for fear of missing the train.

This Cafe was the other side of the security checks

Our baggage was scanned before we were allowed onto the platform and then our gate was 14, right at the far end of the concourse, so we had to get moving.

If we missed the train there was no next one.

They ran every 4 hours and it was strictly booked in advance.

Jaki booked our seats on line which was simple but they allocated us two seats in different parts of the carriage, and most seats were taken, so sitting together was a bit of a challenge.

I thought it was going to be a much longer journey but within 40 minutes we arrived in Toledo.

Not really knowing what to expect we followed everyone else out of the little station and down the road toward the old town, which we could see up on a hill. Crossing the road we picked up a footpath that ran past a large car park and then started to climb upwards toward a stone bridge than spanned the River Tagus.

Swarm’s of bird (Swallows or Swifts) were swooping and diving under the arches of the bridge, presumably catching insects and several flocks of Geese congregated in family groups on the river banks. It all looked idyllic.

Stopping mid way to take in the view, we notice a man had walked into the bushes below us to have a pee!

Then we realised we had a very steep climb ahead of us. It’s usually me that struggles with walking, especially hills but recently Jaki’s Knees have been getting worse and she found it quite difficult ascending the slope to the town above.

By the time we got to the top we were knackered. It was overcast and a bit cold with a sharp breeze so we decided it was time for breakfast and set off in search of a Cafe.

We didn’t have to go far before we came to La Cuesta where it seemed everyone in Toledo had decided to stop for breakfast. It was very busy and very noisy but it was warm and comfortable, served good Coffee and some reasonable Breakfast dishes.

I chose a fairly typical breakfast offering of Bread with Jamon and grated Tomato which acts like a spread. I was quite content with this until I saw the Breakfast of my dreams.

A Crusty Roll (Bocadillo) filled with Spanish Omelette and Bacon. It looked amazing and I kept my eyes open for this option throughout the rest of the trip but with no success.

Once Breakfast was finished the reality of the day kicked in. Our return train wasn’t til late afternoon which meant we were there for about 5 hours. What the hell were we going to do for that length of time?

A selection of Stones to look at.

Now those of you who are regular readers know I dont do Churches, I dont do Castles, I’m positively allergic to ruins or Stones of any description. I go into anaphylactic shock at the mention of Knights Templar or History in general and I’m no lover of Architecture or Design.

So when we realised most of the actual activities offered in Toledo included at least one of these topics, Jaki was suddenly on suicide watch. There are Churches, Mosques and Synagogs by the bucket load and if thats your thing, you can fill your boots in Toledo.

It was.

It became blindingly obvious to me that the highlight of my trip was the breakfast and that was now just a memory. The future however, looked ominous. And with that, it started to rain.

We sought shelter by going into every tatty tourist shop that would let us in.

I looked at Swords, Ceramics and Toffee, Jewellery, Antiques and Knives but I drew the line at Leather Hand bags. I just dont know how anyone could work in a shop that stunk so badly of Donkeys?

Unless the rain stopped we might have to consider going in to the Synagogue but that required payment. Luckily i wasn’t that fed up.

Yet another Church.

We continued walking aimlessly through the town looking for some thing to lift the mood. By now I was really getting into ‘moan mode’ in a big way.

At the top of the town we found a bench that had a reasonable view across the valley to some fairly big houses on the hill side opposite. Just at that moment the sun came out so we were able to sit there for an hour enjoying the view with the sun on our faces.

The Restaurants and Bars were doing good business so we plonked ourselves at one of the tables that was still in full sunshine and ordered a drink, which came with a full bag of Crisps!

Our walk back down the hill took us to the other side of Town and we thought if we kept following the road, keeping the fortified wall on our right, we would soon be back at the station.

What we didn’t realise was just how big the old town actually was and how far off course we had wandered. We went in through the South East and came out in the North.

When we Googled the route back to the Station it suggested we still had a 35 minute walk but that didn’t take into account the ups and downs of the Terrain.

At one stage we stumbled across the Medieval Fayre (which looked like it was worth exploring) mainly by following the smell of BBQ Sausage and we thought about taking a look at what it had to offer.

But we soon realised just how big this attraction was and we still had a long walk ahead of us, so we thought better of it and pressed on.

Throughout the day I had worried how we were going to fill the time (till we could get back on the train and return to the familiarity of Madrid). Now we suddenly realised we were in danger of missing the train all together and the thought of having to stay in Toledo till 9 that night quickened our pace.

We made it back to the platform with minutes to spare.

Never have I been so happy to get on a train and wave goodbye to what others assure me is one of their favourite parts of Spain.

It was an experience, but I’m glad its over. I’m sure there are people who would love to visit Toledo, to stroll its cobbled streets and explore its ancient churches, but my memory will be sore feet, Jesus with a Hoola Hoop and a big fat bacon sandwich.

For another view of Toledo try reading this blog by Blake Eric.

https://www.blakeerik.com/blog/2018/7/13/travel-guide-exploring-the-medieval-town-of-toledo-spain

Trip to the Botanical Gardens

I start this blog with an apology (or two).

Events have overtaken me and ‘Im writting this Blog in different stages, so it may well appear a bit disjointed?

The first part was written in the Hotel, before we checked out. The next bit, when we got to the Airport waiting for our flight. And the last bit ( and proof reading) was done in bed at home on Wednesday Morning.

Most of my recollections are accurate but if I leave things too long I cant quite remember the sequence of events clearly and some of the detail get’s missed.

You might note also that there is starting to be some repetition.

“Got up, ate breakfast, went out, ate Tapas, went to bed”.

But thats really because that is what happened. We were in a sort of cycle. A life style that became repetitive by the very nature of the activities available to us.

Perhaps, we should have only spent 5 days in Madrid. That, I suspect would have been the optimum time.

But when we initially planned the trip our Friends Larry and Hazel were flying in for the last three days so we would have done things with them and it would have been fresh.

Sadly they had to cancel as Larry is seriously Ill.

It’s a shame because every Tapas bar we went in we said. “Oh, Larry would have loved this”.

Missing you mate.

Saturday we decided to go to the Botanical Gardens and have a walk around. It’s just a short walk from the hotel, near the Prado. Maybe 15 minutes.

We hoped it would be a nice day and we could relax and get some fresh air but first we had to get some breakfast.

Ham and Cheese sarnie

My Breakfast

Rather than making our own breakfast( like we would if we were self catering) each day has to start with a trip out to a Cafe.

This day was no different.

The choices are infinite though the breakfast options are very similar (repetitive) but staying in a Hotel means you have no choice but to go out and pay every time you want a Coffee and its often impossible to get a decent cup of tea.

A lot of the Coffee is served luke warm.

We tend to have Cafe Con Leche which is Coffee with Milk, which they add after the shot of coffee has been poured into the cup. You can ask for the milk to be Hot (Caliente) which makes a difference but its not always possible in a busy Cafe where the staff have disappeared almost before your order has been taken.

Initially our room didn’t have a Kettle but we were later given one though we had to re-use paper cups for the first few days as they couldn’t let us have any mugs. Then we found a shop that sold mug’s for €5 a pop (Ale Hop) so we bought two.

One had “Best Friends” written on it. But when we unwrapped it, it showed a ‘Turd and a roll of toilet paper’.

I guess they are fairly close but I’m not sure the picture of a Turd made my Tea taste better?

We brought ’T’ bags from home but ran out mid stay.

Luckily we found and Asian store that had PG Tips so we were able to stock up. (The local Supermarket DIA didn’t have English Tea). But we never found a spoon for sale and we never thought to borrow one from a Cafe. So we used my old toothbrush, not perfect but it did the trick and we could at least have a cuppa when we got up in the morning.

The Botanical Gardens

Today’s garden is divided into seven major outdoor sections and five greenhouses which allow the cultivation of species which are not suited to Madrid’s Continental Mediterranean climate. Total collections include about 90,000 plants and flowers, and 1,500 trees. Says the Wikipedia.

At the entrance they let us in for €2 each as we were pensioners though we didn’t have any proof, of age. However, the guy in the ticket office just pointed to my hair and said, ‘senior’.

The Gardens were a bit of an anti climax and I dont know why they should be when they are such a prominent feature of the Capital?

There were lots of empty beds, lots of weeds and plenty of plants that looked like they were hovering between life and death.

For such a prestigious garden i found this odd.

There was a self watering system in place though many of the plants look like they were suffering from drought. Maybe they just cant justify the water after all there is a shortage in Spain?

When we first got through the gate there were half a dozen beds full of Tulips that looked stunning but after that, it was a bit sparse and threadbare.

My old mentor Mr Hughes who was the head Gardener at Bristol Zoo when i was a trainee gardener, would have had our guts for garters if we neglected the gardens like this.

There are some green houses that hold some more tender plants but these too were a bit scruffy and neglected.

Thats not to say there wasn’t anything to see but what there was seemed to be a Cameo rather than a jewel in a tropical oasis. They were stand alone plants that did their best to look good whilst all around them failed.

There was a good collection of really nice Bonsai trees that are god knows how many years old and they were worth looking at, but they dont seem to come across in Photo’s, somehow the size and perspective is lost?

As we walked round we took some pictures but I have to say these are rather flattering. We tried to get shots that looked good rather than expose the flaws.

By the time we had walked the perimeter of the garden we could hear some music and decided to see if we could find its source.

Walking up the road the music got louder and we became aware of a crowd gathering in the road.

There was obviously some sort of demo going on.Now as an ex Union Official, I love a good Demo!

The crowd had banners and flags proclaiming the injustice of something or other. It was mildly amusing for a while, so we followed on in the hope of seeing something a bit out of the ordinary, some police brutality or some one glued to a bus shelter.

But it sort of fizzled out when the tail of the procession left the road and went into the park.

Jaki and I made our way home in the general direction of the Hotel. We had by now become relatively confident of our directions so we only had to make occasional references to Google map’s to ensure we kept on track.

We stopped for a quick drink before we made it back to the Hotel for a well earned Siesta. Another part of the ritual.

Madrid is a walking City and we have done our share. I am hoping the walking and the diet will have kept my weight in check but I haven’t had access to any scales, so I may well be disappointed?

Our diet has been quite positive in that we have eaten only light breakfasts and then most days, not eaten anything till the evening when, in most cases we have chosen Tapas.

Tapas might not be particularly low calorie, but it’s small portions and apart from the local bread (which I’m hoping is quite healthy as it doesn’t have all the shit packed into it) I haven’t had many Carbs. Or at least, I have tried to keep them to a minimum, which is difficult when there is a bowl of crisps in front of you.

We obviously went out for diner on the evening so chose a local Tapas Bar, El Sur that had reasonably good reviews and I think is one of the venues on the Tapas Tours of Madrid.

When we got there it didn’t look much but it was packed and we thought we might not be able to get in. But there was one small table at the back that was free. It was hard, the seating was uncomfortable and the table was small, but the menu looked good and when the food came, it tasted great.

We found ourselves sat next to two Scottish guys from Edinburgh who told us they now lived in Brighton. They had some healthy appetites, and they were several courses in front of us so we could see what they ordered and piggy back.

We ordered several different Tapas dishes starting with a mixed cheese board, some spicy pulled beef and a delicious stir fried vegetables with Rice ( my first rice in months and it was lush).

Jaki chose a fish omelet that was’ interesting’ but not really to my taste.

By now I was getting lazy so I forgot to take any photos. In my defence, I had been on this non stop for 5 days and I felt like a reporter in a war zone. (All right, a bit dramatic but you get my meaning).

This was a really good choice of venue and when we left there was a queue at the door waiting to be seated.

Additional information:

I forgot to mention this bit but its quite important. Afeer dinner we walked through the back streets and ended up once again back at Reina Sofia art gallery. As we cut across the large square directly outside Jaki suddenly vanished.
At the same moment a heard a loud splat, like a huge dollop of bird Pooh hitting the pavement.

When i looked down, Jaki was led on the floor kissing the flagstones.

It seems she didnt notice the end of the patio where it drops to pavement level. So she stepped, missed her footing and face planted the Pavement. Luckily she managed to get both hands out in front of her to break her fall, but even so she badly bruised the palms of her hands and both wrists which are still painful now ( Wednesday).

Apart from some embarrassment she seems to be Ok though it could have been a lot worse.

This little bit of Madrid isn’t quite so popular with the tourists, its a bit off the beaten tracks, in fact, it’s a bit ‘The other side of the tracks..’ Its not so pretty, a little bit untidy but it does host some great little bars and restaurants that offer great food and drinks.

Well worth finding places like this. They wont disappoint.

The chums last day

8/4/24

The Guys were flying back to Mojacar on Friday via Almaria airport so we were looking for some thing to do that was easy and close.

Dave suggested we walk down to the main Railway station at Atocha where he assured us there was a magnificent indoor garden. For want of any better suggestions we agreed and set off to walk the short distance down the hill to the station, keeping an eye out for a suitable breakfast spot.

Part way down we saw a nice little Cafe (La Vera) and decided to give it a try.

They didnt have any big tables so Jaki and I sat on one and the other guys shared a larger table.

They had a reasonably good range of options including some great Sandwiches though the favourite choice for locals seems to be the Churrios which they dip in their Coffee.
I had never tried one, it always looked too sugary but on this morning it was Jaki’s option, though with hind sight she probably would have chosen some thing else.

It was much saltier than I imagined but without chocolate it was a bit plain and she had drunk her Coffee by the time the food arrived.

I found a reasonably good impression of a Bacon and Egg sandwich which tasted fine and filled me up.

I’m not sure what the others had but there were no complaints so I assume they were all happy.

The Railway station is very impressive and it’s also a bit of a challenge to get to as you have to cross some very wide and very busy roads.

The best way of doing this is to wait at the crossing points till the little walking man turns green. Then you have enough time to cross the whole stretch without running. Trying to run amongst the traffic is folly and you will surely end in trouble. even standing on the pavement cant be dangerous as the scooter riders (the ones with Petrol engines) come up onto the pavement at all sorts of random times to park their bikes and they expect pedestrians to get out of their way.

I remember nearly getting run over by a scooter when i was walking on the pavement in Ho Chi Min City. The lights went red so some guy on a scooter just drove up over the kerb and along the pavement where i was walking so he didnt have to stop.

I expanded his knowledge of English that day.

Once across the road we walked down the slope to the Station and into a pretty unimpressive concourse which will be familiar to rail traveler’s anywhere in the world.

We circumnavigated the whole building without finding a Tropical Garden and it was only when we asked one of the armed Police officers that patrol in gangs with their Tattoo’d arms hanging close to their guns, that we were shown where it was.

The Baja level held the key so we walked down yet another slope and there it was. Sadly there are some renovations taking place which meant the actual garden was roped off and most of the plants were covered in a mix of Pigeon shit and builders dust but it was still pretty impressive.

Then it was time for coffee before we said our farewells.

The guys decided to catch a taxi back up to the Hotel whilst Jaki and I chose to walk and time it to see how long the walk was. (19 minutes).

So we said our goodbyes, hugged, shook hands and agreed to meet up in Mojacar in a few weeks time.

They went off in one direction and we went off in another. So when we all converged just outside the station it was a bit of a surprise. It seems the Taxi Rank was outside the doors Jaki and I had chosen for our exit.

And what a Taxi rank.

There were taxis two abreast, as far as the eye could see, all waiting to get to the front of the queue and bag that lucrative fare. So it was no surprise that the driver who got our four passengers and a €10 fare, wasn’t best pleased.

He would soon be back at the station and at the back of that queue.

When Jaki and I got back to the Hotel the Chums were just leaving, so we repeated the goodbyes before we went to our room and they went to the Airport.

We decided to go for a walk and explore, so we ended up down by the Palace where there is a wide open pedestrian areas that was perfect for strolling. There were fountains and gardens where young lovers seemed to spend their time and large terraces where families watched a group of performers who did a combination of dance and Gymnastics.

There were police cars dotted around at various strategic spots as there seemed to be in all areas of Madrid. They dont seem to underfund their Police here and the presence of armed and slightly menacing Uniforms was everywhere. Their patrol cars are a recurring sight on the roads with their Blue Lights permanently on. Sirens can be heard all the time as large blue vans intimidate the traffic jams and ambulances manoeuvre through the busy streets.

We did a big loop and worked our way back through the Shopping area (Calle Gran Via) keeping an eye out for the huge Primark that lives there somewhere. We eventually found it on Monday.

I dropped into one of the “Cannabis” shops that seem to be everywhere in Madrid and bought some Gummy Bears, which the guy assured me were legal here in Spain. Later when i did some research I found that these Gummy Bears weren’t actual Cannabis, they were CBD which is perfectly legal everywhere. And they tasted horrible, so they went straight in the bin.

By now we had been walking for hours so we stopped at a small Cafe for a drink.

I’ve rather taken to the Tinto de Verano but each place makes it slightly differently and this one filled the glass full of Ice so I had very little actual drink. However, we were glad of the break and the chance to relax.

We decided to stay out and find some where to eat rather than go back to the Hotel where i would surely have fallen asleep.

Dave had recommended a restaurant (El Lacon) and he intended to take us there one evening but they were closed and didn’t open until Thursday, so we headed there which saved us having to research anywhere new.

When we arrived at their doors we were too early, they didn’t open until 8pm, so we walked across the road and went into an amazing little bar (Viva Madrid) that was packed out with drinkers.

Sat at the bar it was too easy to drink the house Red wine and I was soon a bit wobbly.

I took a few pictures of the reflection in the huge mirrors and the guy sat next to us started waving so we obviously started chatting.

Him and his wife were on holiday touring Spain. they lived in California so we soon had plenty to talk about and we reminisced about our visits to Laguna Beach and Sanibell Island.

I knew I was gibbering so I had to concentrate on not being “The drunk we sat next to when we went to Madrid.” Luckily it was time for us to head back to the restaurant, so we said our goodbyes before too much harm had been done.

When we got to El Lacon it looked full, but they showed us up stairs where there was a good crowd but there were still some available table.

Dave had talked about a Square plate full of Meat and we thought we had found it on the menu so we ordered this to share. Jaki continued on the wine but i decided it was time to go on the water.

The food when it came looked delicious but like most of the meals weve eaten here in Madrid, there was almost no vegetables. The Padron Peppers and some slices of Lettuce were the only green things in sight. The rest was Meat.

We tucked in to this dish as if we had never eaten meat before. It was delicious. Jaki wasn’t too keen on the Gammon so I had slightly more than a half share, but we managed to finish the lot with ease.

When we got to bed that night I paid the price for my gluttony.

The meat hung heavily in my stomach and the wine played havoc with my head.

I had all sorts of Bizarre dreams some of which were clearly influenced by the Bosch Paintings we had seen earlier in the week.

I have often thought my Bowel influences my body and recent studies have shown just how this works . A good healthy Gut full of good Bacteria keeps the rest of the body in tune.

But fill it full of red meat floating in a sea of red wine and it doesn’t like it.

I think this was the nearest I’ve come to a hang over in 4 years and I dont like it.

Le Petit Dim Sum

This will be a short one as it really should have been tagged on to my last Blog, but I’m getting a bit behind with my Blogging. I just didn’t have the patience yesterday to finish off properly, so I’ll tidy things up with this post.

Thursday evening we all went out looking for somewhere to have a drink and then eat.

One of the problems with Madrid (if you can call it a problem) is that there is just too much choice and when you are only here for a few days, you are likely to make mistakes.

We stopped for a drink in a random bar (Matador) and sat on some rather hard stools at a rather wobbly wooden table with a large window behind it. It was warm and the window was open which allowed one of the many street people (they are sleeping rough everywhere though they usually arent any bother) to lean through and start asking for money. He woudnt take no for an answer and eventually staff from the Bar had to chase him away.

We had a drink and they brought some free Tapas but the seating in many of these bars is at best uncomfortable and we decided we didn’t want to eat here, mainly because the seat’s were too hard.

Somehow the decision was made to eat Chinese and Sue soon found a Chinese restaurant just down the street but when we got there it was tiny and it was already full.

So we pressed on.

Madrid is a great place to amble and we ambled past some of the more expensive Hotels in Madrid with their liveried door staff and their shiny brass plaques.

Even the buskers were posh.

We passed a string Quintet playing on the wide pavement and they were absolutely amazing. i would have stayed and listened for a while but the guys were on a mission and I was in danger of losing them.

The next Chinese that came up on Google was in a Food hall in the cellar underneath several of these big Hotels and from the way it was decorated, they were obviously trying to temp guests out of the Hotel Restaurants. Sadly it wasn’t working as most of the restaurants and Bars were empty. One Cocktail bar seemed to be doing good business but the rest of the place was dead.

As time was running out we decided to eat at the Chinese Restaurant Le Petit Dim Sum which had no other customers.

The Menu was limited but there were a few choices on there that we were happy with.

I fancies trying the Dim Sum but the rest of the gang advised they weren’t having starters so I chose the Beef with Noodles whilst Jaki chose Beef with hot and sour sauce.

But then to our surprise the rest of the gang (traitors) went for the Vegetable Spring Rolls. Thankfully Sue agreed to share hers with us.

If I remember rightly, Dave had the Beef noodles the same as me and Terry and sue went for Crispy chicken. I cant recall what Steph chose, thats the problem when you dont write things up straight away!

I was happy enough with my Choice though it had almost no Beef in it and Dave had even less in his bowl. The sauce wasn’t great, in fact it had almost no flavour, so I used the dipping sauce from the spring rolls just to perk it up a bit.

Jaki’s choice wasn’t great.

It was some sort of Thai Soup but the three red chillies on the menu were a ‘red herring’ as it wasn’t in the least bit spicy. there were a few slices of fresh chilli floating around in the bowl but they did little to the overall flavour. There was supposed to be meat in there too but we never really found it. The contents of this dish were a mystery and despite our best efforts, we couldn’t really identify anything by taste or appearance.

She left most of it.

Sue and Terry didn’t get on much better. Their Crispy Chicken was so crispy they couldn’t bite it so resorted to peeling the Crispy bits off the meat and just eating the chicken flesh.

And there wasn’t much of that.

By the time we had finished eating the staff were putting their coats on so it was obviously time to leave.

This wasn’t a great experience and I would suggest avoiding this place.

Having explored more thoroughly of late there are plenty of better Chinese restaurants available close to our Hotel. But I doubt Jaki and I will seek them out.

In truth, Chinese food is number two on Jaki’s list of food’s she dislikes with Pizza being Number one. Luckily there are plenty of other places to explore so we will be sticking to Spanish in the future.

Day two in Madrid

6/4/24

Thursday was very much the same as before, we met at 9 am in the Reception, then Dave led us out like Moses and the Israelites up the hill, left at the main rd and into Le Rollerie a chain restaurant close to our Hotel.

They showed us up stairs where we sat at a large table and perused the breakfast menu.

Now it’s fair to say, when you get to some where new the menu’s are excitingly different to those at home. But after you’ve been somewhere for a while, you start to reognise repetition and madrid is no exception.

Breakfast Menu’s in most places have a commonality that is easily recognised and probably required to keep people coming back for more.

So it is here.

Most breakfast menus have Bread, Cheese Meat and Pastries in various combinations and at varying price points. Some are better made, Bigger or Fresher, so there are better places. Some serve breakfast in very modern surroundings whilst others are more rustic or traditional and they all attract their own devotee’s.

Eating food stood up seems to be popular. Eating outside, even on a busy road with the bus fumes clinging to your sandwich and Builders dust coating the coffee, is a life style choice for many, so although every venue has something to offer, its usually pot luck whether you enjoy a meal or not.

For my part, I havent had one yet that I’ve disliked

So it was at Rollerie.

My Bacon and Egg’s with Toasted bread was fine and although it wasnt a huge helping, it filled me up nicely and i still got my protein fix from the Eggs.

Jaki went for Granola with Fruit (Or Crunchy Bits as my Grandson calls them). And again hers was fine.

Sadly Sue and Steph went for a simple Toast with Jam option but the Toast was overcooked so it was too hard to eat. Even though they both had their own teeth?

The Boys got on with their options without complaint so I assume they were happy with their choices?

Once the food was out of the way we set off for our last Museum.

This time it was just the three of us.

Terry decided shopping with the girls was preferable to walking round yet another Museum. So we hailed a Cab and set off for Reina Sofia National Museum.

I hadn’t really known what to expect as we had left all the planning to Dave, so imagine my delight when he told us the original Guernica was hung in the Reina Sofia , which was where we were headed. Strangely, Dave was far more interested in the Mondrians that were there and i didn’t get the impression he was over enthusiastic about the Picasso?

I did some work on Guernica when I was completing my Foundation Art Degree at the UWE in Bristol, so I was familiar with its story.

But nothing equiped me for seeing it in all its glory. It was incredible.

We had been walking around the museum for ages without finding anything worth looking at, Well, let me rephrase that. Anything that excited us. Then we saw this.

The Museum is huge and Its built in a square with a central garden so each side of the square has galleries off it. It’s also on several different floors but the signage is awful.

We searched around for ages before we even found a gallery to go into.

After exhausting our appetite for paintings we left the Museum and hailed a taxi to take us to the Moncloa Tower. A 92-metre (302 ft)-high transmission tower with an observation deck at the Plaza De Moncloa. It was a €15 taxi ride away through a very congested road network.

When we got there the others were waiting for us so we paid the €2 fee for the lift (Pensioners rates) and went up onto the viewing platform.

Again it wasn’t breath taking though it did give us a good overview of Madrid and I was surprised at just how much green space there was.

What it did do was make us Hungry so we made our way back to a more familiar part of Madrid where Dave wanted us to experience a particular restaurant that did nothing but Prawns in an old fashioned way.

We decided to use the Metro rather than get two Taxis though tackling the ticket machine still proved a bit of a challenge, even with the superior brain power we could now bring to bear.

The Restaurant La Casa Del Abuelo took a bit of finding but eventually there it was. In fact there it was twice. Since Daves last visit the place has become so popular they opened a second venue right opposite the original. The only difference being that the second venue had seating where as the original was standing room only.

in 1906 the founder of La Casa del Abuelo opened the doors of his first tavern  on 12 Victoria Street: in the heart of Madrid. No one would say that 100 years have passed since then, especially because nothing has changed. Time has not passed by La Casa del Abuelo thanks to the 4 generations of the same family that has wanted to respect and maintain the authenticity of the business while trying, as curious as it may seem, not to evolve.

In its early years, La Casa del Abuelo began to be famous for its donuts and sweet wine. Also for the love of the waiters for the place, who despite not being over 13 years old sometimes came to sleep there. The 20s and 30s arrived and with them, the idea of ​​its founder to offer sandwiches to his clients. La Casa del Abuelo not only became the first tavern to sell chorizo, anchovies or sobrasada inside a bun, but it also achieved something much more difficult: selling more than 1,500 sandwiches in a single day

This authentic old bar hit the spot a treat and we all gorged on Prawn’s in garlic butter. Dipping warm crusty Bread into the juices all washed down with a glass of very good red wine.

Stood up using the little shelves provided or squatting on wooden stools in the window, It was a real treat and one my old mate Larry would have loved.

These simple dishes were being turned out as fast as the chef could cook them and waiters were running into the street with piping hot bowls for hungry customers who were sat outside.

Our bill came to €140 but it was money well spent.

Clifton in Bristol

3/3/24

Jaki and I decided to get out for an hour on Sunday.

The weather had changed from the Snow of Saturday morning and it looked like it was gonna be a nice day.

My Back Garden Saturday

I managed to get to the Gym fairly early so by the time I got back home, Jaki was showered and ready.

A mate of mine is coming to Bristol next week for the annual conference of the RMT (Rail, Maritime and Transport Union) and staying in the Rodney Hotel in Clifton and he suggested we meet up for breakfast.

Now Ivor is a strange fellow.

He doesn’t eat “Foreign Food” prefering simple English dishes, so all the world famous fancy Restaurants in Clifton will be wasted on him.

I needed to find some where that serves traditional English Fare and I was a bit out of touch with the food scene in ‘The Village’ so we decided to have a good look round and familiarise ourselves with the latest venues.

Clifton is often the Face of Bristol.

You regularly see it on adverts and loads of TV dramas are set in Bristol and Clifton is a particularly sought after venue to the point where people think all of Bristol is like Clifton or Hotwell’s, which is the area around the docks.

Back in the 1970’s the trend started with Shoestring staring a very young Trevor Eve as Eddie Shoestring though Softly Softly (a spin off from Z Cars which launched the shouting career of Brian Blessed) may well have proceeded that?

For years Casualty was filmed in Bristol and in the early days they parked their vehicles in the station yard at Temple Fire Station. At that time we had station Bars and the crew (sometimes with a cast member in tow) would come in for a drink, or two.

Much later we saw the Lost honour of Christopher Jeffries a drama based on a real life murder that took place in Clifton and the vilification of Christopher Jeffries who was the victims landlord.

Comedy has roots in Bristol with much of Only Fools and Horses being filmed locally and you can visit the venues on a guided tour. There is some debate about where exactly this famous scene was filmed but The Mill House In Sea Mills always insisted it was filmed there.

But way before that Bristol was famous for the Young Ones staring Rik Mayal.

Our latest Comedy claim to fame is the Outlaws staring Stephen Merchant and Christopher Walken.

Many years ago I starred as Jasper in Sea Mills Junior School end of Term play Jasper the Wicked which we performed at Sea Mills Community Centre, the set for most of the community service scenes in Outlaws series one. So you could say, I have shared a stage with Walken and Merchant?

Historically this photogenic legacy was in part due to the BBC being based in Bristol but the Bristol site is more focused on Natural History now but we do have the Bottle Yard Studios.

“The largest film and TV studio in the West of England.

11 stages are available; eight at our main site and three at TBY2, our neighbouring expansion facility which opened in 2022 offering premium, fully sound-proofed shooting space, powered by the largest community-owned rooftop solar array in the UK.

Floor areas of up to 22,000 sq ft and heights of up to 34ft provide endless opportunities for set builds.

With a 5,000 sq ft green screen, 35,000 sq ft of furnished production offices and ample ancillary workspaces – plus a creative hub of on site companies delivering industry services – we’ve got everything required for a fully supported shoot.”

We also have a dedicated film Office.

“For 20 years, Bristol Film Office has been working to make Bristol one of the UK’s most film-friendly cities, assisting TV and film productions of all sizes to source locations, secure permits, find local crew and arrange the logistics that make on-location shoots run smoothly.

Our free, dedicated service is available to any production planning to film in the city, and is part of what makes Bristol one of the UK’s most competitive filming destinations outside of London.”

On Sunday, Clifton looked beautiful in the sunshine and the crowds were out in force.

The Cafes, Bars and Pubs were full but most people chose to eat and drink outside on the pavement or in the roads which are now pedestrianised.

The Mall Deli surprised me as the queue to be served went in through the door, down the full length of the shop and then turned and came back up again along the counter. It was completely rammed. But the smell of food coming out of the door was absolutely heavenly.

We walked around checking the menu’s on all the eateries as we passed but few matched the criteria we had. They were too exotic, too posh or quirky and I know Ivor wont want to go there, so i suspect it will be Primrose Cafe where we can be sure of a fry up.

Jaki and I stopped for coffee in a slightly quieter cafe on the edge of the village and we were then tempted to walk across the Clifton Suspension Bridge, Brunel’s Iconic structure that is synonymous with the image of Bristol, some thing I haven’t done for years. There were groups of people on guided tours learning about the bridge and its history, though I doubt they will be learning about its darker side.

This was once a well known suicide spot. People would walk out onto the Bridge, climb the railings and take the long drop into the river below, or land on the Portway (the road below) which was quite devastating for passing motorists.

When I was in the Fire Brigade, the Downs (the grassy area at the top of the Avon Gorge) and the Bridge were on station A1 Temples ground so any ‘potential jumpers’ were theirs.

However the Portway and the rocks below were on my Station ground, so if they actually jumped they landed on our Patch. If they went in the water they could end up anywhere and were often carried back out into the Bristol Channel.

There is a row of houses overlooking the bridge that must be the most sought after houses in Bristol, Their views are spectacular but they also have all the facilities that Clifton has to offer, on their door step.

What used to be a notorious Gents toilet is now an Ice cream parlour and it was doing good business on this particular afternoon.

We couldn’t resist calling into the Avon Gorge Hotel just to get a glimpse of the view from their Patio which was swarming with guests eating and drinking in the afternoon sun.

Then we cut back up Princess Victoria street where we passed the site of the much loved culinary inebriate Keith Floyd’s first Bistro.

We checked out the menu at The Albion, a small pub tucked away just off Boyce Avenue to see if that had a suitably simple menu but all we could see was Sunday Lunch and my stomach was rumbling.

We had to walk past the Green grocers which always has some incredible produce but is always twice the price of Gloucester Rd, another must see area of Bristol, if only for the variety of food venues.

Jaki called into the jewellers in the Arcade to see what price they would offer us for Terry’s 9 Ct Gold wedding ring but they valued it at much less than Kemps in Westbury on Trym, so we still haven’t sold it.

Blackey’s Antique jewellers in the Arcade.

By now we were getting tired and we still had some shopping to do.

I wanted to call at Waitrose in Henleaze to see if I could get a low Carb loaf. They used to sell this particular bread but the last couple of times I’ve been in, they haven’t had it so I wonder if they have stopped stocking it?

I guess it’s not one of their best selling lines?

It was time to head home.

You have to be careful going to Clifton.

Some routes will take you through the clean air zone and that can be expensive but if you use other routes you can avoid it.

Parking in Clifton is always hard to find and there are areas where its residents only. It can also be expensive, but on a Sunday it is free, so you just have to drive around until you find a spot. It produces more pollution because you have to drive further but hey, it is what it is.

So, if you visit the UK or you live here and want a day out (or even better a long weekend) you could do much worse than stay in Bristol.

If you can afford it, you could always try and stay in Clifton where you will find everything on your door step.

And if you dont like it, there is always the Bridge!

Some of the TV and Films Drama shot in Bristol.

Motorhome or Asia?

24th Feb 2024

It’s a bit of a tenuous link to Travel but we drove to Frome today.

Frome is a great Place, It used to be a place no one wanted to visit, it had a reputation for being a bit rough. But then, at some point it became a bit ‘Arty’ and once it did, people started to move there.

Initially it was ‘Creatives'” who had loads of talent but not too much money and they bought up the cheap houses and started to network. About this time some of our ‘Arty’ friends moved there and we started to visit regularly.

Artist communities started to form, galleries and shops selling individual arts and crafts started to appear and places like Cheese ad Grain developed..

The pubs and Bars were influenced by this community and spawned Cafes and restaurants which reflected the eclectic taste of the community, and the Music scene soon followed suit. In the past they have hosted surprise gigs just before Glastonbury Festival with some pretty impressive acts playing this small venue.

Eventually Frome became a vibrant community where people wanted to live.

But this came with some baggage.

People started moving to Frome from London as it was commutable. Frome became much more desirable so drove up the price of houses which the locals didn’t necessarily appreciate. There was also a Steiner school in Frome which attracted Yummy Mummies from all over and that added to the social pressures of gentrification.

Frome Weekly Market

So Frome today has a vibrant city centre, a great Arts and Crafts scene, a cutting edge music scene, great food and drinks and a monthly market that is as good as any.

But we didn’t go there for that!

We went today to look at a Motorhome.

Screenshot

It was a 1995 Hymer which I saw advertised on face book as being immaculate for its year. Yes it was old and it had high mileage (113,000 miles) but my Land Rover has the same mileage and its perfect.

The advert said It was in ‘excellent condition’ and although it was high mileage it had been well looked after. It was a similar shape to our old Hymer which we had for years and loved dearly. In fact we should never have sold it. It would make more money today than it did when we sold it 7 years ago. But hey.

So we thought this older Hymer might be just what we were looking for. It was cheap enough that it wouldn’t break the bank, it was (apparently) in excellent condition inside and out and it was local so we wouldn’t have to drive too far to view.

We still haven’t resolved the dilemma. Do we buy another Motorhome or take another long trip abroad. We cant do both. Each has its appeal and we were hoping seeing the van of our dreams would sway us one way or the other.

It seems people in Bristol just dont do Motorhomes.

They tend to be for sale in the Midlands and a load of them are available to view in Scotland.

One I was interested in this week was in Lincolnshire which is just too far to travel.

I remember when we were looking for our first Hymer we drove all over the country, clocked up thousands of miles before we found the right one.

We would see an advert, phone up and ask about it. We would be assured it was in excellent condition but when we arrived, it would be crap. One was advertised as Original condition and when we got to Swansea it was clad inside with Tongue and Grove!

Anyone who has ever considered buying a Motor home will know how difficult it is and you have to approach it in stages.

1 You find a suitable van advertised

2 You contact the owner and get as much info as possible

3 You drive there and inspect

4 You have a habitation/mechanical inspection done (£400 +).

5 You negotiate a price.

At any stage during the process it can fall down and you have wasted all that time, energy and money.

But back to Frome.

The address we were looking for was just the other side of Longleat Safari Park close to the Caravan Club site.

It took a bit of finding but eventually we pulled up in a muddy lane that was home to an old Caravan covered in Green mould and a beaten up old Hymer that looked like it had been stoned during a riot.

It was immediately obvious to us that this wasn’t gonna be some thing we would buy but the owner was outside ready to show us round and his view of the van was completely different to ours.

“As you can see it’s in great Condition inside and out”. He told us cheerily. “Ive done all the maintenance myself.”

As he opened the door to let us in a cat slipped into the van and curled up on one of the bench seats which were badly stained and mouldy. The smell of damp was immediately obvious and some home made repairs stood out like a sore thumb. The sink in the bathroom was badly stained, The mattress on the drop down bed needed to be thrown out and the cooking area should have been condemned.

At this point i told him the van wasn’t what we were looking for. Jaki very cleverly said it was too small and didn’t have enough storage for us and we edged out of the van and away up the lane to our car.

This was a classic example of “How not to sell your Motorhome”.

First, It was parked under tree’s and had been for some time. It hadn’t been aired, It hadn’t been cleaned and it sat up to its axles in Mud which meant we couldn’t look underneath.

We couldn’t even see the tread on the tyre as they were covered in muck.

But dont ever let animals sleep in your van if you’re trying to sell it!

So we made our way back into Frome which had a diversion that made it almost impossible to get to the centre so we were forced to drive round in circles for a while. Eventually we parked and walked through to the Market Place which was surprisingly busy for a wet, overcast Saturday in February.

We needed Coffee and although there were the usual Chain Coffee shops available we wanted to use an Independent, so we walked through the Market, ignoring the coffee stalls there as it was too cold and damp to sit outside, and made our way into Cheese and Grain. It was very busy and we had to wait for a table .

Now I’m not a great lover of Coffee, prefering Tea and I find all the different variations a bit bewildering. But, having spent a lot of time in Spain recently I got quite fond of a Cafe Cortado or a Con Leche, so I decided to try a Flat white with ‘Skinny Milk”.

It was Shite.

It tasted like some one had poured hot milk into an Ash Tray then tried to cover up their mistake by putting foamy milk on top. It was drinkable with 5 sachets of sugar but god knows what that did for my diet?

We didn’t stay long as we were hungry and there was a stall outside selling Greek wraps, but at £9 a pop we chose to head back to the Sausage stall we had passed earlier. The smell was amazing as the sausages sizzled in a huge pan.

Sadly they didn’t taste as good as they smelt and trying to eat them stood up without letting the Tomato sauce dribble down your front proved almost impossible so we tried sitting on a bench but the wood was soaked through from days of rain.

Our alfresco dining experience ended up in the bin and we headed back to the car.

This wasn’t a very productive morning all round.

A below Par Camper, an awful Coffee and a Hot dog that lived quite happily in the waste bin.

I should have known better.

My experience of eating hot dogs in the fresh air has been less than successful.

When I used to go to Ashton Gate to watch Bristol City we always walked past a hot dog stand that offered a Triple hot dog and I always wanted one. So one day i treated myself.

It was about a foot long with three huge sausages tucked in the groove. Covered in Onions and lashings of Mustard i was eager to tuck in.

I took my first bite from the end of my ‘Dog” and watched in horror as all three sausages shot out of the other end. Like Nuclear warheads from a submarine they sped skyward before arching back to earth where they hit the pavement with a dull squelch.

I was left with a foot long bread roll soaked in onion juice.

Some times life can leave you wanting!

Mojacar to Tarancon

5/11/23

We left Mojacar on Saturday morning, the sun was shinning and it looked idilic.

It had taken us an hour or so to load the car. Jaki was taxed to the limit trying to get everything in and still have space for us. Good job she’s a black belt at TETRUS.

We had to move the seats forward an inch or two and have the back’s a bit more upright than usual which meant it was quite uncomfortable. Jaki also had a bag in the footwell of the passenger seat so her movement was even more restricted.

Heading North was going to take us up into the bad weather, and part of the journey would take us up into some high elevations which meant the temperature dropping quite considerably.

First we headed towards Murcia and then cut off onto the road to Albacete which is fairly long and straight with not much to look at, but its easy driving.

By the time we got half way to Albacete we were ready for a break and my eyes were feeling heavy so I treated myself to a full fat (Caffeine) Coffee and a sandwich from a garage in the middle of nowhere. I was going to have to compromise on the Carbs if I was going to get any food at all.

When we got out of the car the wind was so strong we could hardly stand up so we ran for the garage shop only to find the door locked.

A lady appeared from behind a waste bin and opened the door for us?

Inside there was a range of pre packed sandwiches, a Coffee machine with no instructions in English and some dried up Danish Pastries.

first we paid the lady behind the counter and she gave us two paper cups for the Coffee and we helped ourselves to a Danish, which was actually very good plus a sandwich.

The sandwich was in dark bread, had egg and cheese but it was covered in some chocolate brown stuff, that was the same consistency as Mayo but the colour of French Mustard.

The theme tune to the ‘Deliverance ‘was playing when I came out of the toilet so we were keen to get back to the safety of the car.

My old car started making a strange noise a few days before, like a bubbling rattle.

(Death Rattle).

I was a bit concerned but couldn’t find any obvious cause so just had to trust it would last till we got home. Which It did.

However, as the journey went on it got worse. You cant hear it when driving but its quite loud and ominous when you first start the car.

We made reasonable time and arrived in Tarancon about 1615 hrs.

I had booked us in to the Ansare Hotel, the same one we stayed in on the way down, so we knew what we were getting.

It’s owned and was built by the family that run Incalopsa the meat processing company who have several huge buildings in Tarancon. (See previous Blog on the way down).

I asked for access to the pool and sauna which was an extra €15 but decided not to take the secure parking at an extra €25 choosing instead to leave the car outside of reception, on the road.

There was very little of value in the car and if anything got stolen it would mean there was that much more space for the rest of the journey. Happy days.

We spent an hour or so swimming and enjoying the Jaccuzi and steam room before getting ourselves ready to venture out for food.

When we stepped out of the Hotel we were met by some awful weather. Strong wind, drizzle and it was cold.

Luckily we had our long trousers and coats on as we wandered up the road to a huge Sushi restaurant which we thought might be fun.

When we got there we were very disappointed.

It was really a Chinese Take way that did Sushi.

We went in and sat at the bar for a drink but soon realised this wasn’t some where we wanted to sit and eat. It rated on the same level as Frankies.

The lighting was so bright and stark as it is in most Spanish Bars and restaurants?

Fluorescent tubes were everywhere and though there were a few tables, there were no customers.

We ordered a drink and one of the young ladies behind the counter tried to pour a small beer but ended up with a glass full of froth. Her older sister had to leave her home work and come and show her how its done.

We looked at the menu and it was a combination of Japanese, Chinese, Thai and Spanish. There was plenty to chose from but it was the atmosphere, or lack of it, that put us off.

So we walked back to the Hotel and went into the cafeteria rather than the very expensive but highly rated Restaurant and ordered a drink which came with free tapas.

They started serving food a short while later and brought us the menu. It was a bit hard to translate and even Google translate couldn’t quite master it, so it was a bit of pot luck.

Eventually we ended up with Croquettes (€16), Chicken Wings (€12) and Grilled Manchego cheese (€14) with Fig Jam.

Free Tapas

It was all quite pleasant.

The Grilled cheese was amazingly good and we couldnt understand why we dont try this at home. Except that Manchego cheese is so bloody expensive in the UK.

Jaki vowed the Chicken wings were th best she had ever had and I have to admit the sauce was delicious.

The croquettes however left me a bit cold..

They were supposed to be Jamon Iberico (some thing this town is built on) but they had no flavour at all. They were quite squidgy and soft inside but the outside was very crisp. Cooked nicely but just tasteless.

Well that was until I found a bottle of Tabasco sauce. A life saver.

We had several glasses of wine, my red was exceptional, and a coffee all for the grand total of €58.90 which is more expensive than we would expect to pay in Mojacar but cheap as chips in the UK.

By the time we got back to our room we were both ready for bed.

We plugged our phones in and checked our messages.

I had a message from Larry to say their Ferry crossing from Bilbao had been cancelled and they were now booked on the same ferry as us. So we would meet up on board.

The hotel was fantastic in every way except, they dont have Coffee making facilities in the room so I couldn’t make a cup of Decaf Tea to take to bed.

But then, there was another day tomorrow.