474: The colours of the Mediterranean

 Every so often the bathroom scales remind me that it's time for a long-ish walk. Yesterday, then, I managed much of the Cami de Ronda, a coastal footpath meandering from the Levant beach in Salou to the lighthouse on Cap Salou. The first 'half' of the route is along a definite path, and the second half isn't! Lots of scrambling up and down, and in and out. Sometimes there is a message saying a particular path ends in a dead end and other times they kindly allow you to find it out for yourself.

 

The colours of the sea were beautiful yesterday, different shades of blue and turquoise and the water was even transparent in places. How lovely it was. After 2½  hours walking I was more than ready for a drink. Luckily I wasn't hungry - look what they brought me to go with the beer! Different country, different culture.

This morning it was back to the classroom. Teaching, these days, involves some 'chalk and talk' and then some 'activities' to help the little grey cells absorb what they have just learned. These activities are a disaster for me personally. The noise level, of  >20 people speaking at the same time, is too much for my old ears and I'm forced to leave the classroom until things have quietened down and I can slink back in.

After class I went for coffee and bumped into some Russians who had been on the year 1 Spanish course with me the year before last. How much more pleasant to speak, and listen to, Russian. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the Spanish course just so I can meet, and chat with, more Russians! 😁       (Miryam, if you're reading this, I don't mean it!)

473: It was all June's fault!

Is there such a relationship as a cousin-in-law? If there is then I've got one whose name is June. She and my cousin Steve have just celebrated being married 38 years. Quite impressive, although I can beat that by a country mile. Anyway, I was reading June's FB status and got the distinct impression that they were celebrating in their Spanish residence, in an urbanisation not far from Mazarron. She confirmed this and said "come down for a brew". So I did. A bit more than 'a brew'.

Salou to Mazarron by car is 540 kms and takes about 5 hours by car. But I don't have a car (in Spain) so I thought to make an adventure of it by train and bus. Left Salou last Wednesday and returned yesterday (Sunday). Overnight stays in Albacete, Cartagena, with Steve & June, & Murcia.  Lots of fast food because it's available when I want it, rather than having to adjust to Spanish meal times. A lovely BBQ with Steve & June, on their roof terrace.

Let the pictures do the talking:

Albacete (in the autonomous community of Castilla-La Mancha)

Brekkers: croissant with 'mermelada'

Catedral de San Juan Batista

In Parque Lineal. One of a series of impressive displays of the different planets in our solar system. Should we bring in sharia law for graffiti 'artists'?

Carthagena (in the Murcia region)

I'm going to hang a sign round my neck "No me gustan las aceitunas"

Steve & June. On Friday afternoon they took me to the site of a disused fort with 2 enormous guns set up in 1936 to protect Cartagena. A hair-raising drive along narrow twisty-turny roads up the side of a mountain with a car seemingly coming the other way every time we came to a corner. I'm glad Steve was driving and not me.  

made in Sheffield in 1927!

 There are more and better pictures, and an explanation, here.

Murcia

Two pieces of luck on Saturday. Firstly, Steve drove me to the nearest bus stop to them so that I could catch the 09:40 to Mazarron (and then another bus to Cartagenia and yet another to Murcia). The 09:40 didn't turn up and, just as I was about to ask Steve if he would be kind enough to drive me to Mazarron, a bus turned up and took me directly to Murcia. Great. The second piece of luck is that the hotel in Murcia very kindly allowed me to check-in early. Marvellous. Turned out I was on the conference/congress side of town. I'm very pleased I was in the 5-storey Hotal Azarbe rather than the 5-million-storey hotel opposite! 

472: The trials and tribulations of being an expat

 expat (UK informal) = a person who lives outside their native country

The sun must be over the yardarm somewhere so I'm going to have a beer (and some chocolate), to help me calm down.  

I don't think it matters which foreign country you're living in, sooner or later you come across differences in the way people do things as opposed to the way things are done in your own country/system. And you start to wonder WTF are you doing here. Why are the local people doing things in such an illogical way that doesn't make any sense at all. 

The problem with their Spanish logic started for me yesterday and continued today.  I went to the local adult education centre to confirm my registation for year 2 Spanish. Miryam, my teacher from year 1, was sitting in the entrance hall transcribing everybody's details THREE TIMES onto a piece of A4 paper. No wonder there was a queue of people outside waiting to register. 

Miryam is a great teacher. As a language teacher myself I understand how difficult it can be teaching a class of >20 people especially when those people come from many different countries and have different cultures. But, the centre has had all our details from the beginning of summer when we first expressed an interest in the course. Would it really have been so difficult to use IT to append our details to the form and have a form printed off and waiting? Let me assume for the moment that GDDR (General Data Protection Regulation) was the show-stopper, as it is for so many other things. Then perhaps 2 pieces of carbon paper would have obviated the need to write our details 3 times?

The form, that Miryam so adroitly completed for us, in triplicate, was to allow us to pay 84,30 Euros for tuition and materials for the whole of the academic year. Miryam, being a teacher, and not an accountant, couldn't possibly take the money from us. That would be far too simple. We were offered two choices (when it should have been four!): take the form to BBVA bank in Salou and pay there or make an appointment over the telephone to go to the local town hall and pay there. We then had to take the stamped receipt back to the education centre to prove we had paid. The two choice we weren't offered were: one, to take the form to our own bank and arrange the transfer or two, to make an internet transfer from the comfort of our own home. I considered making an internet payment but what proof would I have had?

So, I went to BBVA this morning as it opened at 08:30 to try and get there before any queues built up. Ha ha! As soon as you get inside the door you have to print off a number and you get seen when your number appears on a screen. Fair enough. The trouble was that the first question, before you get your number, is 'are you a customer of the bank?'  As soon as you say no, everybody coming in behind you, who is a customer of the bank, gets served first. I had to wait 30 minutes to get seen. Disgusting. I asked the guy for help with the machine as I walked in and I think that got his back up so he made me wait as long as he possibly could. That's been my experience with Spanish 'officialdom' over the last 4 years - if you annoy them in the slightest they take great delight in messing you about to the maximum extent possible. Because they can. There was only one cash counter open, instead of two, so things moved along half as fast as they might have. It was also 'fun' watching two bank staff sloping off for coffee as soon as the bank opened at 08:30. I saw them coming back at 09:00 as I was leaving. Why couldn't they have gone at 08:00 before customers started to arrive?

One more thing, while I'm in the mood! I landed at Barcelona Terminal 2 on Wednesday evening and decided to take a bus to Salou rather than a series of three trains. The first Plana bus to arrive turned out to be a ticket bus rather than a bus that takes people anywhere. The driver sells you a ticket and you then have to wait for the 'real' bus to come so you can give the driver the ticket you have just bought. Of course you have no idea whether the bus you need is going to arrive on time or not but, having bought a ticket, you are committed and have to wait.

 That was cathartic. I'm feeling better now. Rant over. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

 

 

   

471: Two birds with one stone

I've just returned from a mini-break in the South of Spain: a day in Malaga and two days in Cordoba. I especially arranged the trip in order to meet my Venezuelan friends, who had decamped from Salou last year, and an ex-RAuxAF friend who lives deep in the mountains of the Sierra Nevadas a couple of hours from Cordoba. It was really great to see everybody.

I stayed airbnb in the outskirts of Malaga in very recently built student accommodation. Here is the picture that Google maps shows of the place. I can report it has now been completed. The ads for the place offer mini-studios to students from 589 Euros a month. That seems a lot to me, but what do I know about the value of money these days. 

My hosts collected me from the accommodation and drove me to their house, where the barbecue was heating up ready. They wined and dined me right royally and then drove me to the station at Malaga to catch my train to Cordoba. Their hospitality was very much appreciated, even though I got told off for not spending Saturday night with them.

 

Cordoba. What a lovely little city - cathedrals, city walls, narrow pedestrianised streets. I did my exploring first thing in the morning before it got too hot. Andalucia was suffering from a heatwave and the temperature away from the coast was nudging +46 in the hottest part of the day. When I got off the train on Sunday afternoon and stepped into the sultry heat it reminded me of my time in Iraq - not a time I fondly remember. A 15-minute walk to my hotel in the centre of town and then hide away in my air-conditioned room until the relative cool of the early evening. It was still 40 degrees at 8pm. I was lucky enough to find somewhere nice selling food at the time I wanted to eat (7pm). Rare in Spain. 

temperature at 8pm

 

An expensive display - all Lladro!

 

On Monday I met my pal, Howard, who had driven in from his hideout in the mountains to meet me (in Burger King 😀 ). I don't understand why I was looking old and he hadn't changed a bit. It was good to catch up and talk over old times and plans for the future. If you know him, and you're planning to write to him sometime soon, please don't mention this visit. I've not been on Karen's Christmas card list ever since I sent a certain student to stay with them for a few days and said student wasn't perhaps as polite and well-behaved as he ought to have been. So I'm a bit like J K Rowling's Voldemort. My name isn't mentioned in their household and Howard somehow forgot to mention my visit. 

To sum up, quite a bit of money and time travelling to Andalucia and back but worth every penny (or cent) to renew, and consolidate, valued friendships.

I would certainly plan to visit Cordoba again, perhaps when the temperature is not so high. Maybe include Granada or Seville next time too.

No more travelling now until next Monday!

470: Wuss of the week?

Today, 31st July, is mother-in-law's 91st birthday. Happy Birthday Frances. It is also the inaugural running of the Golspie 3-peaks challenge. Named after, and loosely based on, the famous national 3-peaks challenge in which participants climb the highest peaks in England (Sca Fell), Scotland (Ben Nevis) and Wales (Snowdon) within 24 hours. For more info on the national 3-peaks challenge click here.

The Golspie challenge is rather more modest and involves climbing three local peaks: Ben Horn (520m), Ben Bhraggie (397m) and Silver Rock (265m). My pal Alisdair very kindly (?) included me in his team, together with his daughter and son-in-law. I did a recce of each of the peaks during the week and decided to withdraw from the challenge. Only Ben Bhraggie had a recognizable path to the summit, the other two involved quite steep ascents through the heather. I would have been a mill stone around their collective neck. I look forward to hearing how they got on. Am I a wuss for withdrawing?

Instead, yesterday, I walked along the coast from Golspie to Brora (11km, 2 hours 18 minutes) and enjoyed a big boy's breakfast once I got there. There was a tiny burn (a Scottish word meaning a small stream) to traverse but the heavy rains from earlier in the week caused the level of water to rise and to submerge the stepping stones. I lost my balance and ended up with two wet feet but hey, it wasn't the end of the world.

Tomorrow -> England, Monday -> Spain. Vaccination certificate and Spanish health authority travel form both printed and ready for inspection at both LGW and BCN.  

Enjoy this version of 'the lion sleeps tonight' that I came across on FB yesterday:

469: The REAL Camino - PXR

PXR, for those who weren't in the military, stands for Post Exercise Report. "A PXR is a report on what occurred during the planning, organization and conduct of an exercise. It provides information on what the exercise was supposed to accomplish, what was actually accomplished, as well as problems or successes that occurred. It includes recommendations for improvements to equipment, material......"

The Camino de Santiago de Compostela - what is it? A series of walks, originally carried out by pilgrims in the 9th century, starting from different places in France, Portugal and Spain and finishing at the Cathedral in Santiago where the bones of St. James (in Spanish Sant Iago) are reputed to be interred. Read more about it here. Are they really the bones of the apostle St. James the great? Is there a monster in Loch Ness? I don't suppose for one moment we'll ever know the answer to either of these questions.

But it is true that many people undertaking the walk find themselves closer to God. Nowadays a mix of genuine pilgrims seeking spiritual guidance and 'ordinary' hikers or cyclists out to enjoy nature and perhaps learn more about themselves. Where am I on that spectrum? Somewhere in the middle probably. Did I find myself closer to God? I think so. I certainly spoke to him more than usual. I can only assume he was listening. Usually there are hundreds, if not thousands, of people walking the different routes but with the pandemic I only saw a couple of dozen on the Camino Ingles. 

Types of accommodation

Hotel, pensión (=Spanish B&B) or auberge (hostel). Many of the auberges were still closed, probably because of the pandemic. I asked my travel company to arrange hotels with en-suite accommodation. They came up with mostly hotels but one or two pensións. All had en-suite as requested. Many weren't doing an evening meal, again probably because of the lack of pilgrims/travellers due to the pandemic. My two favourites, over the eight days, were the Gran Hotel de Ferrol (for their professionalism) and Pensión Vilanova (for their friendliness)

How to get to Ferrol (one of the start points for Camino Ingles)?

There is an airport at A Coruna and another at Santiago de Compostela. To get to the start at Ferrol I took a slow train from Tarragona to Madrid and two faster ones the next day. I flew back from Vigo (an hour South on the train from Santiago) to Barcelona. If you're going to take any trains, and you're over 60, you might like to invest in a Tarjeta Dorada. It costs 6 Euros per year and there are significant discounts to be had. But it from any station on production of a passport.

How many different walks are there? (in brackets = approximate number of days)

Camino Frances	The French Way	800 km (30+)
Camino Portugues	The Portuguese Way	598 km (30+)
Camino Portugues Coastal	The Camino Surf & Turf!	178 km (7-12)
Camino del Norte	The Northern Way	466 km (23+)
Camino Primitivo	The Original Way	315 km (16)
Via de la Plata	The Silver Way	1000 km (40+)
Le Puy Camino	Via Podiensis	732 km (30+)
Camino Finisterre	Muxia Way	90 km (6)
Camino Ingles	The English Way a) Ferrol –> Santiago b) A Coruna -> Santiago	121 km (5) 96 km (5)

What do you get out of it?

Apart from an enormous feeling of satisfaction and achievement there is also the signed compostela, written in Latin and with your name (in Latin) added. Wow, if you like that kind of thing. You ´earn´the compostela by collecting stamps in your credencial issued to you at the start of the walk. In theory you are supposed to collect at least 2 stamps per day. For example one at your hotel and one wherever you stop for tea/coffee/lunch. You need to walk at least 100 km to get your compostela so if you particularly wanted one to hang on your achievements wall at home then don´t pick the A Coruna –> Santiago route. 

What to wear/carry

Bear in mind that the weather in Galicia is not necessarily what you might think of as typical Spanish weather. Often it is a little milder. Depending on the time of year you go I suggest packing something for both rain and sun. I had very lightweight, packable, waterproofs and a hat. I used it all, at different times during the week. A service I can't recommend enough is the luggage in advance system run by the Spanish Post Office. Leave your luggage at your accommodation and you will find it waiting for your at your next stopover. Can be arranged by your travel company. I must confess to feeling a little smug when I saw some pilgrims struggling with large rucksacks carrying all their kit for the whole week. I had a very light backpack with waterproofs and water. Water is advisable as you don't always find what you want to eat & drink at the time that you want it.

Blisters and general health.

I didn't get any blisters. I put that down to three things: good walking boots, good walking socks and lots of practice walks beforehand so that the feet got used to what was expected of them. It was an enormous help to have a reasonable level of fitness – some of the hills seemed to go on forever. I also deliberately factored in a rest day in the middle of the week. I ended up walking for three days, taking a day off, and walking another three.

How to book?

There are 'several' companies dealing exclusively with the Camino de Santiago. They will arrange all your accommodation and issue you with a credencial to take along with you. I used pilgrim.es and they were more than satisfactory. (I gave them 4 days notice to start the walk and they still came up trumps). You might also like to consider: Camino de Santiago , Follow the Camino

Would I do it again?

At the end of the walk it felt a bit like you feel at the end of a marathon (I used to run them a zillion years ago) where you say to yourself “never again”. But now the tiredness has worn off and I start to wonder “why not”, “never say never”. Who knows?

ENJOY!

Saw lots of these. Private chapels?	WTF was this doing at the top of a hill. Did they roll the occupant down the hill?	The enchanted wood!
Spanish scarecrows	Galician beer. After a long day's walk....	THE Cathedral. The end of the walk.