A change of scenery

Amazing waves at Capbreton, France

It's been an eventful and sometimes challenging week! Lots of travelling, a fair bit of problem solving and a total change of scenery as we headed in to Spain.

Our route, which was loosely planned to say the least, took us from Capbreton where we spent our final night in France, parked near the beach, into Spain where we crossed the border at Irun and past some very low key border control - a couple of police cars, waving people through. We celebrated our departure with our first roast dinner cooked aboard the bus, which was delicious and a lot easier to rustle up than we thought it would be.

Spain felt instantaneously different from France. Basque Country is remote and wild and unlike the Spain I know on the South East coast; the spelling of the places looked more foreign than I expected and totally unpronounceable. Coming from the relative prim and properness of its Gallic neighbours, it was a refreshing change and it felt exciting to be adventuring into uncharted territory.

View from San Sebastian castle

The green countryside is stunning, and we saw our first grapevines since Bordeaux, reminiscing nostalgically about those heady days at the Chateau, just a few week in the past but which now felt like lifetime ago.

Our plan, arrived at the evening before, was to head to San Sebastain along the coast, a place Nick had enjoyed visiting some 20 years earlier, and which came up in conversation with a lovely travelling Dutch/Belgian couple we met in Capbreton. It took only a couple of hours to get to San Seb, and after a tricky hour navigating our way through the busy city, we eventually arrived at the beautiful bay to the west and parked up in a public carpark, with stupendous views over the old town and harbour. That evening we stretched ours and Nina's legs around the old town and retired early, with a cauliflower cheese dinner and a DVD.

The following morning we headed out to explore our latest destination. It struck me how energetic everyone was for a Tuesday morning, there was a huge amount of activity going on - surfers, bathers, snorkellers and paddle boarders in the sea, wrestling some big waves; I saw more runners than I have ever seen in one place, and of course, many people of all ages doing what Spaniards love best - promenading along the impressive paseo that circled the bay.

The walkway under the promenade at San Seb

We stopped off at a taverna overlooking the boats in the harbour for a glass of vino and soon got chatting to fellow Brits and veteran travellers Paul and Carol with their dog Woody, who were sitting on the next table. A pleasant couple of hours ensued, exchanging travel stories - they were coming to the end of a five week trip down the coast of Portugal, in their camper; it was our first proper social interaction with English folk, so we probably talked their ears off! Having had a few wines, and with tired feet we opted to stay another night and make tracks in the morning inland.

San Sebastian

On Wednesday morning before setting off we decided to climb to the top of San Sebastián Mount to visit the castle; I'm so glad we did, it was definitely worth the arduous trek up the many steps; there are various points on the way up from where you can admire the view, and an interesting (free to enter) museum in the castle itself. The place has a fascinating history and I'd thoroughly recommend it. We met a gorgeous bull terrier pup on the way up, who coaxed Nina into having a play. After a spot of lunch we headed off in high spirits.

The only pic I took when we were
climbing the mountain

As mentioned, our route plan was sketchy - generally we avoid motorways like the plague because the bus goes about 60mph top whack, and we can't bear the aggressive nature of lorry drivers who feel compelled to blast their over sized horns when over taking us. This lack of planning turned out to be ill judged, as before we knew it we began heading upwards, in to the the Basque mountain range. The first 'hill' (I'm not sure when you can start calling them mountains) was bad enough, and once we were down the other side we assumed there would be no more. Unfortunately, that was not the case and we continued to climb higher and higher, slower and slower, crawling around nail biting hairpin bends with hundreds of metres of vertical woodland just inches away to our right. To add insult to injury it began to rain. I sat in the back, out of sight of Nick, to avoid gasping and putting him off, as he was truly having the most challenging drive of his life. At points we had to pull over to let other cars past, of which there were thankfully few, and whose drivers must have wondered what lunatics we were to attempt to drive a bus along such treacherous mountain passes. I wish now that I had taken photos to show the sheer scale of the ordeal, as well as the staggering beauty of the landscape, but fear took hold and I could barely look out the window, let alone document it!

Burgos, a bit grim,
but great mural on the launderette

Eventually the roads became wider and flatter and we stopped at a town to cook supper in a Lidl's carpark, rejoicing to simply be alive! We continued on and eventually pitched up for the night in a village who's name I forget. Despite the intense travelling earlier on, Nick awoke about 3.30 and unable to settle, set off again, leaving me peacefully asleep in bed. Our next destination was a large town called Burgos (population 180,000), the historic capital of the Castile region. I found it to be a pretty grim place, with not a lot going on - large, sprawling, concrete and urban. We explored it nonetheless and reflected that there's enjoyment and interest to be had wherever you are, and travelling shouldn't be just about ticking tourist attractions and places of historical or cultural importance off a list. We had lunch in the shopping centre, where I was amazed to find a C&A, which I thought went under years ago! 

In the town square at Palencia

After a night in Burgos we departed after consulting the map with a bit more care so as to avoid further hiccups, such as unknown mountain ranges, and decided from now on to travel little and often. The next stop off was a pretty town called Palencia, where the weather improved, and we spent a relaxing and uneventful night. 

On Friday we made tracks and arrived at a large university city called Salamanca, which rolls nicely off the tongue and for some reason conjures up exotic images. In reality, it wasn't so exotic, we never made into the city centre to admire the sites; the weather was atrocious and the only parking we could find was on a large industrial estate along side a busy dual carriageway on the outskirts of the city. 

We ran out of camping gas, and regretted that we had not filled the gas tank under bus before leaving the UK, and resolved to rectify the situation. Herein was our next challenge of the week, which I've broken down into points... 1) we lost the key to open the panel to get to the gas tank - action taken: we visited various hardware shops to find replacement, result: unsuccessful, solution: we managed to open the panel with a pair of scissors 2) we had to find a garage that sold gas to fill said gas tank, result: we found a garage, but sadly the nozzle of the gas distributor did not fit our tank, so we ran around again to see if we could find an attachment, result: failure. 3) next we resorted to looking for a replacement camping gaz bottle - in France these were readily available everywhere, not so in Spain, but eventually, success! We found a garage that sold the bottles, only problem was they only took cash, we had none, gaaahhh! So, off to find a cashpoint and eventually we got our precious gas. Our gas supply seems to be an ongoing saga - I'm sure we'll get it sorted in the end! On the up side Nick found a €20 note outside the supermarket, the second one we've found!

A mural in Ciudad Rodrigo

We eventually left Salamanca on Friday afternoon with a plan to head to place called Sancti-Spiritus, which appealed because I thought it sounded like a Harry Potter spell, but was disappointingly dull, so we powered on and wound up at our current location, Ciudad Rodrigo.

Ciudad Rodrigo is a revelation, an absolute jewel. It is a town of three parts - there is the old town, encased in the walls of an ancient moated castle, high up on a hill, dating back to Celtic times, which since then has been through numerous sieges and rulers; the castle itself is a hotel now and the surrounding historic buildings have been adapted to house dozens of interesting little shops, bars and restaurants; mixed in with this there are old and new apartments, mansions, convents and churches all harmoniously rubbing shoulders with one another. 

Me on the stepping stones

Walking through the town feels a little like being on a film set. At the foot of the old town lies the newer town, where a constant flow of coaches arrives and departs with visiting tourists. Beyond the new town lies a wide luscious river, which we crossed today on stepping stones, rather than using either of the two conventional bridges that cross it. On the opposite bank we found what can only be described as the gypsy quarter - rough, ready, colourful and certainly not somewhere you'd find on the tourist trail.

Ciudad Rodrigo is an intriguing place; the 'Ciudad' bit, pronounced 'see you dad' make me think of my dad, and I'm sure he would love it here, it's so characterful and the people are friendly. It's only about 20km from Portugal, where we are heading next. I'm excited about going to a new country, one I haven't visited yet. I feel like I'm getting in the swing of this travelling malarkey now.

Adios amigos