Can you see the oranges on the trees? In the rain?
My favourite way to visit a town or city is not in the rain but it’s also not in the blazing sun. One is a little uncomfortable and the other is even more uncomfortable – the hot one! I blame the moderate climate I grew up with and then came to believe was the only weather. Seriously the weather in Ireland is actually great… mainly. Anyways that results in my having a very small zone of comfort with regards to weather.
Rain drops in the fountain
Funnily enough I have also a small zone of comfort in other areas… which leads me to complaining. Recently I heard of a great way to decrease complaining. From a book called A Complaint Free World by Will Bowen. The idea is you stop complaining for 21 days to break the habit. And you use a wrist band or your watch and each time you notice yourself complaining you switch the wrist band or watch to the other wrist. Easy! It increases awareness and hopefully will break the pattern.
I’m still only learning Spanish… but does this mean there’s a pub in the convent?
Anyway, the whole weather thing has been on my mind for a few years now especially the first year we travelled to Portugal and it was January… and it was cold and wet! I thought it was always warm and dry in Portugal and in Spain and in France. It’s not. Then in March 2020 when the world stopped and we stayed home and Eilish came to dig the garden and the sun shone for five months – in Ireland – it became clearer that my thinking had to change around my concept of weather.
My rain gear (there was a mirror in the lift at the museum)
Then for my big birthday last year I asked for a rain coat, rain hat, rain trousers, rain shoes and I promised myself I would no longer be afraid to walk in the rain.
I like this street art
So the city of Zafra was my first real test. The rain wasn’t light, it was torrential! I was preparing myself to go out in it when it eased up. And for a moment I remembered – nothing lasts forever. Not the bad and not the good. And I walked in the not too bad rain and I took pictures of the not too grey sky and I remembered the good blue skies and really we are not here just for the sunshine and heat. We are here now for every little and large experience.
I’m sitting in the van with a quilt on my knees. Outside the rain is lashing down and the forecast says it will continue until tomorrow evening. Meanwhile the sun is shining in Greystones. But we are here now and because we’ve had lots of days of heat we are starting to be grateful for a day of cool rain… that gratitude never happened at home. Maybe you have to travel far from home to appreciate what is right beside you.
The empty riverbed in Villafranca from the bank
We are in the city of Zafra. We arrived this morning from the town of Villafranca de los Torres. We knew the rain was coming and decided it might be better to be in a bigger city. Plus the park up in Villafranca has a lot of sandy areas that could get very muddy in the rain. It also has what looked like a dry river bed or maybe canal. I have searched the internet to discover what its purpose is but have had no success. When we arrived yesterday I could see a team of workers clearing some dust and leaves down there. I mimed asking if it was okay for me to be walking in the river/canal and they mimed back, yes, no problem.
Standing in the river…
I walked down into it. It’s a strange experience, not unlike my experience in the tunnel. Except the fear here is based on death by torrent of water whereas the tunnel was more like death by collapse of roof. It seems like the plot of an action movie. I am not a big action movie lover but must have accidentally seen a few collapsing building or dam exploding ones because my mind is very specific. Yesterday it showed me a huge wave of water coming around the bend in the distance. I didn’t stay long.
Loved all the towers in this Villafranca building which is a library I think
The other unusual thing in Villafranca de los Torres is the weigh bridge. It was in the car park right in front of the motorhome parking area. All day long trucks arrived and weighed their load. I was really interested in finding out our weight. So I convinced Denis to drive up. It costs just €1 to discover we were under our limit of 3,500kg. Phew! We had full water and a full tank of diesel making this the heaviest we would ever be and therefore not a problem but it got me wondering what we might be able to get rid of to lessen the load. Water is the obvious answer, we have a water tank that holds 100 litres and the same size grey water tank. I looked it up and that’s 75kg capacity for each tank. We tend to fill the water tank up to the top when we take in water just in case we run out before we locate the next water source. But if we trust that water will be available when we need it and only fill it three quarters up and if we empty the grey waste water at every opportunity… that will keep our weight down. There’s very little else we can do as we don’t have unnecessary stuff. And then it hit me, there were a few kilos we could get rid of – from ourselves.
Back to the rain in Zafra
Oh. Maybe we’ll only half fill the water tank, then?
It’s funny what you need on the road and what you (of course, I mean we) will put up with to get it. We stayed the last two nights parked in a noisy industrial estate just outside the city of Mérida. The location is in a yard surrounded by fencing and there’s a big locked gate. No one would say this was a pretty spot. Or a quiet and peaceful spot. But it has quite a few other things going for it.
The neighbours
We left the old part of Mérida early in the morning and between the parking app and google we were directed to the industrial estate. If you live near Dublin, think Ballymount industrial estate. One of the interesting things about this one in Mérida was most of the roads were one-way which adds an extra level of confusion when you’re lost… and we were lost. Google maps was saying, you have reached your destination but there was nothing but warehouses and weeds. We had driven around the same petrol station three times when we finally decided to drop in for diesel and find a different parking spot.
Museum in old Mérida
You’ll remember the whole issue with the gas shortage – that wasn’t? Well, I had also read about the very high diesel prices and we were checking prices every time we passed a petrol station (which is funny as my Dad used to do the same thing during my whole childhood) and this one had good prices. Anyway, Denis was outside about to take off the petrol cap when a young guy jumps out of his car and runs over to him and says something in Spanish followed by the word parking. Unlike me Denis isn’t learning Spanish but somehow he is surprisingly good at communicating regardless of language. Humph. He holds up the van keys and says, I’m just getting diesel. And the guy says, in English, parking and Denis replies, no I’m not parking here I’m just getting diesel. A couple more attempts and the young guy realises that in spite of his confidence Denis hasn’t a word of Spanish and he takes out his phone, speaks to it in Spanish and then holds it up. And the phone speaks… I’m from the parking place that you keep driving past, I can show you how to get there. Wasn’t that lovely? He saw we were confused and lost and he hopped in his car and caught up with us! We were smiling and laughing when the phone spoke again, You can’t get diesel at these pumps they are just for trucks, go around the corner.
Sunlight through Roman ruins
We did go around the corner, got the diesel, got an extra discount off the pump price (my Dad would have loved that!) and then followed the young guy to the parking spot where he gave us a tour of all the services a motorhome needs, like water and water disposal and toilet disposal. There was also a toilet and shower and washing machine and just next door was their motorhome shop where you can get things fixed or changed or purchase stuff motorhomes need. The whole place is like a toy shop for motorhome owners. (By the way, we didn’t know any of this before we got here.)
Close to the past
It got me thinking – what do I really want and what am I prepared to put up with to get it?
It’s not all fun and games here. I brought along my Bookkeeping for Dummies book and I’m getting a handle on bookkeeping. Bookkeeping has always been like that big dark tunnel in Béjar – terror inducing. But last year I asked for help before I stepped inside and although it’s work it’s working out ok.
Inside the amphitheater
Today we are in the old Roman (in Spain) town of Mérida. It was originally called Emerita Augusta (Mérida for short) and was founded by the Emperor Caesar Augustus in 25 BC. It’s full of the ruins of 2000 year old buildings, medieval buildings and museum buildings. We got up early to keep cool and were first in the gate at 9 am to visit some of the oldest buildings. By 11.30am it was hot and we’d only seen three, you would seriously need a week to visit everything. We’ll just have to come back.
The stage of the theatre
We saw the Anfiteatro (Amphitheater) where the games took place, gladiators fighting each other and animals. The Teatro (Theatre) where plays were staged and civic ceremonies held. And the Casa del Anfiteatro (houses beside the Amphitheater) where you could see detailed mosaic tiles, some interior room decorations, a bath house, original water pipes and a kitchen stove. Everything in this area had been buried in the early 1900’s and when the unburying of the amphitheatre and the theatre started they cleared the debris off to the side not realising they were burying these houses deeper. It was only decades later when one of the mosaic floors was discovered that they realised what was underneath. Everywhere you walk in Mérida there are pieces of history, right beside the motorhome park there’s a field full of house shaped brick walls and in one of the pedestrian shopping streets there’s a preserved roman street made of large flag stones.
You might be able to spot the painted wall decoration and to the rear of that are water pipes
I don’t blame them for losing the houses, it’s hard to see what’s right under your feet sometimes. We have passed through Spain so many times and missed amazingly interesting places every time. We met a Swiss couple yesterday who were on their first motorhome journey to Spain and they had planned everything. Then in their first week they binned their plans when they met a Spanish man at a park up who filled in their map with every beautiful place he could think of in his country. Mérida was one of those places. The Swiss man handed me his phone to look at his pictures of two others, Córoba and Toledo, just a bit too far from where we though we were going but very tempting.
A section of the mosaics
For the rest of this week I’m going back into the bookkeeping tunnel I hope to uncover some hidden mosaics myself… I’ll let you know how it goes. Wish me luck.
You know when a small/annoying/disturbing/upsetting thing happens at the beginning of the day and the rest of your day is off? Like, it’s not balanced, it’s just a bit off? Ok maybe it doesn’t happen to you. It happened to me yesterday. Now just so you know, it’s wasn’t a big thing but I’m telling you about it so that I remember. I want to remember this is something my mind can do. I want to notice the off-balance that sometimes happens and just notice it. No need to do anything about it, no need to beat myself up. Nothing. Just notice that I may not be able to recognise the whole truth in this moment as I’m unbalanced. So here’s the story…
Our hero!
Wait, first here’s the end of the story… Our gas (LPG) gauge was in the red and that’s a problem because we need the gas for cooking and heating water and running the fridge. We have an app that tells us where the nearest gas supplier is located and we arrived to see red covers on the pump handles, indicating that they had run out of gas too. And only yesterday I had read something about gas shortages in the UK. Is there a gas shortage here in Spain too? My mind was getting ready to imagine the worst, when what should arrive but a gas tanker. No kidding! And no shortage. Ten minutes later we filled up with enough gas for two weeks. Is it possible that everything works out? Sometimes it takes ten minutes, sometimes longer? And the unbalance? It doesn’t last long either.
City walls in Plasencia
Ok back to the start of the story… We left beautiful Béjar the morning after my tunnel walk full of optimism and drove to the city of Plasencia, less than an hour south. There was a free car park near the centre where motorhomes were welcome. The sun shone and the temperatures were rising. We had hardly turned off the engine when a dishevelled looking guy came banging on the window. Even though we didn’t understand his words it was clear he was looking for money. Denis said no and shook his head and he left. He returned half an hour later and we realised he was going to every arriving vehicle.
Can you see the swallows? They move too fast for me but I’ve circled them above. Have the swallows arrived in Ireland yet? These ones seem to be getting ready for their journey north…
My mind asked, “is this a dangerous city?” and tipped off balance. Everything else that happened that day was slightly off. It was too hot to go for a walk, there were too many cars, too many bugs, I was hungry, no, I was thirsty, I was fed up. On and on until… We were eating a dinner of cold pie and salad (remember the gas was running out) when a knock came to the door. We both looked at each other… but it was only the owner of the camper next door who had parked so close to us that we couldn’t open the side door. As I’m the one learning Spanish… Denis indicated I should go out the other door to discover what he wanted. I began with “I don’t speak Spanish” in Spanish… turns out that’s not as useful as you might think. If you’re speaking Spanish – badly – the exact meaning is lost on the native speaker but well, you’re speaking Spanish, so they presume you probably understand it, right? I understood nothing and that resulted in the man speaking faster.
Here’s the gap after we moved…
Fortunately, he had a wife who spoke face-language – she saw my face and knew I didn’t know what he was saying. Between the three of us (and Denis looking from the gap in the door) we worked out he was suggesting that if we reversed a bit our door would be parallel with the end of their van and we’d be able to open it. And he was right and it was perfect and as we stood outside smiling and saying Gracias to each other Denis and I noticed we were now surrounded by motorhomes. Literally, surrounded. (Ok no, there was a gap in front of us but there were vans at each side of us and at the back, mostly parking illegally!) And they were still arriving. Smiling, chatting, gesticulating, happy people, parking wherever they could find a gap.
And an even smaller gap behind us…
And it was so odd it unbalanced me right back to balance. They do things differently here. They eat dinner late at 9.30pm or 10pm. They park in the tiniest of spots. They talk loud and fast. And it’s ok. I slept really well that night, all the windows were open and the sounds of fast talking Spanish drifted in. Yes my mind did throw up some safety issues but I took note of the location of our fire extinguisher and I was reassured. And the next morning we had landed in a new world. Everything was good. There was space again in the car park and the temperatures were more pleasant. We found a small bakery beside the city walls and watched the swallows swooping and soaring. And then as you know, just when we needed it the gas tanker arrived.
Coffee time
I remember as a child when we would go to the city with my Dad to some football pitch or greyhound track and if there was a big crowd there were men who used to help you park and then take care of your car. Everyone gave them a few coins but I always worried that there were so many cars they would forget which one was ours and it would be gone when we got back. It was never gone. My Dad called them the Lock Hards because they used to repeat “lock hard, lock hard” while helping you parallel park into a tight space. The Spanish motorhome drivers are experts at parking in a tight spot. Had a 50 year old memory unbalanced my mind? Was I just recycling one familiar situation and glueing it to this city with my childhood feeling of worry? I don’t know.
Noticing seems like doing nothing but it’s not and there’s nothing better to do when you’ve tipped off balance.
I did it! I walked through the tunnel. I wasn’t sure I would. Denis was with me and I said we needed to stop just inside so I could get a feel of the problem and then we would take the outdoor route. But within moments the problem was gone. The terror was gone out of my body. We walked another bit. For some reason I was holding my fists in front of my heart as I walked, I suppose it was comforting. I noticed the moving forward was getting easier. And sooner than I expected there was a small sliver of light coming from around the next corner. I didn’t want to hope it was the exit in case it wasn’t but it grew and grew and with my excitement grew and grew and then there it was – daylight streaming in through the way out.
…the exit!
We walked out and up a really steep hill to the town. We were actually very far from the old town and the town walls. The tunnel was never the best way to get to the old town. But we found the new town and had lunch outside and listened to the Spanish language all around us. I’m learning Spanish again but not in the way I usually do. I usually learn it to be able to speak it perfectly – god love me. Not this time. I’ve been reading a great book about how you can help yourself to be healthy for your whole life. And it turns out learning is a great way to encourage a healthy brain into old age. This time I’m learning just for learning. And I’m very surprised at the difference that makes to my experience.
Béjar and the mountains beyond
It is so much easier to communicate when your Spanish doesn’t have to be perfect. And it’s so much easier to meet difficult situations when there is acceptance of our own reactions and we can ask for help.
Cobblestones beside one of the old railway buildings
Yesterday we arrived in the town of Béjar, about 200km west of Madrid. We have never been here before and that’s always exciting. We had set off early, too early for breakfast so I cooked my favourite – porridge, while Denis went for a walk. We always use other people’s reviews to choose a park-up and the reviews for Béjar were very good. One of them mentioned the greenway, called the Camino Natural Béjar that runs alongside. It used to be a railway line which makes it flat and great for walking. But like all railways lines running through the mountains it has a tunnel. One reviewer suggested that although it was long it was well worth the effort to go through it to see the old town. Oh, not sure about that.
Can you see the tunnel?
We have been travelling for 13 days now and because we’ve started to slow down it feels like the perfect time to soak up the inspiration that comes from visiting these new, strange, unknown places. A train tunnel could be exactly the strange place I need, if… I wasn’t the most careful, risk-adverse person I know. Hmmm. Or maybe it’s just perfect? Anyways, by the time Denis came back I was actually looking forward to going through the tunnel. And he was able to report that it was grand, it was lighted and he had gone all the way through and back and was happy to go with me if I was concerned about going on my own. But I wasn’t, how hard could it be?
Well at least there are lights…
It was awful! You can’t see the end from the beginning, it’s very long. Oh (expletive, expletive, expletive) it was bad.
No, now that I’m writing about it I realise the tunnel was just a tunnel, it was not awful, it was just a tunnel. The thing that was awful was how I felt. I felt very awful. I am searching for better words to describe the feeling. I have a thesaurus on my computer but its not helping translate a feeling into a word. Very unpleasant isn’t bad enough but disgusting is completely wrong. I went about five steps into the tunnel and could go no further. I had to get out.
Don’t you just love rust?
What’s funny (not funny) is I didn’t understand the problem until I was standing about three feet inside the tunnel. Beforehand, in the van I had thought I would be worried about being attacked by another human. So I had a little talk with myself, “you’d be very, very unlucky to get attacked today, first day in a tunnel, first day in Béjar, you’ll be grand, you can do this.” Of course I know what you’re thinking – this could be untrue, but it was enough to convince me I’d be grand and probably not get attacked. So that when I got to the tunnel I was not afraid of being attacked. The fear of being attacked is my mind-fear, my mind-fear had been reassured, however foolishly. No, the big problem standing inside the tunnel was no longer my mind-fear, the problem was my body-fear, the fear that took over my body. There should be a big word for that. Terror? Yes. Terror is a good word.
Can you see the old town walls?
Generally speaking my mind-fear keeps me very safe. If my mind-fear rises I don’t reassure it enough to go towards the fearful thing… why would I? But here on this journey I make myself go towards the fearful thing because of Reverence on Deck 9. Do you remember? That’s where I made a decision to learn from everything, and that includes this tunnel. I promised to meet every difficult moment with self compassion and silence. So I turned around and left the tunnel. Were you expecting that? Do you think I should have kept going?
There’s the van from up on the town walls across the valley
And then something I had missed rushing towards the difficult thing was a signpost pointing up. And there it was, a steep but gloriously outdoor path to Béjar. I took the path most travelled. Yes, I was not a brave tunnel traveller but I was something else. I was compassionate to myself. This is what self compassion does – it accepts what is true for you now and it doesn’t attack your truth no matter how stupid or childish it seems. I’m going to the mouth of the tunnel again today (even writing that makes my stomach clench) but what’s different is Denis is coming too and I’ll take his help and maybe today is the day. And maybe it’s not…
Collage of building materials and a smiling statue
The town was scrumptious, by the way. Ok again, not the right word but I need a word that invokes consuming… but with the eyes. What is that word?
We’re well into our second week of travelling and it’s time to catch you up on where we are. We spent two nights (Wednesday and Thursday) in Vitoria Gasteiz. The city is a very handy stop for campers as there are two supermarkets nearby, water and waste disposal and plenty of walking available among the tree lined streets. Both of us started daily walking during the first lockdown and we have kept it going so we are always on the look out for walking routes. One thing we’ve noticed here in Spain is the level of mask wearing is much higher than we noticed in France. Most people wear masks inside here but at least 50% also wear them outside. Not sure why but it’s very reassuring.
Sweet graffiti in Palencia
This route we are taking through Vitoria Gasteiz was the one I was hoping we would take. On our way to Portugal we generally take the northern coastal route and leave this diagonal route until we are coming home in May or June. That is because there can be snow at this time of year. But as luck would have it while we were in Bordeaux we noticed the temperature was forecast to rise later in the week so we stayed an extra night. And it worked, there has been no snow and the temperatures have been rising steadily.
Palencia park up. That’s the motorhome washing in the distance. Very excited!
After Vitoria Gasteiz we moved onto Palentia and as the van badly needed a wash we were very excited to see they had added a motorhome wash right in the parking area. This park-up also has toilets and showers and a restaurant nearby. I went for a walk to the town and took some photos of the huge cathedral and it’s ginormous door. It was the day before Palm Sunday and I passed a gateway nearby where there was a statue of Christ carrying his cross on a wooden plinth preparing to be carried by 6 men. All around was the smell of burning incense while the men chatted and smiled (behind their masks) and encouraged each other. It seemed to me I was witnessing a moment of sincere bonding and it was too private to photograph.
Ginormous cathedral door in Palencia and me for perspective
On Saturday morning we woke to heavy fog. Great day for doing the bookkeeping we’d been postponing followed by the van washing. A few hours later the sun was shining and we were on the road again, this time to the city of Valladolid. We parked at motorhome parking near supermarkets, cafes and restaurants and took a walk to get lunch supplies. We must have passed at least 30 benches in the shade. I was very tempted to sit and watch people go by but I was hungry.
This church was hiding in a shopping center in Valladolid!
Next morning was cold but sunny and we got up early to walk to the city and get a coffee. Valladolid is famous for its Holy Week and Easter Processions and we saw lots of extended family groups making their way towards the centre. The children were carrying what looked like sheafs of corn. Later that morning we moved to a campsite outside Salamanca. It was so warm we were able to sit outside (in the shade) for the afternoon.
I could see the statue up there from a distance and assumed it was on top of a church. Nope, it’s an lingerie shop
Next morning almost all of the campers had gone, probably on their way to Portugal like us. We spoke to a couple from the UK who told us rain was due and they had decided to change direction and move an hour back northwards towards France to escape it and make full use of the mobile nature of their motorhome. We didn’t follow, Denis’ new coat is rainproof and since we started the daily walking habit the quote from Alfred Wainwright, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing.” makes perfect sense.
Our grey Monday
As I write we are parked at a petrol station, the wind is blowing fiercely, rain is pelting the roof windows, the sky is dark grey and we haven’t had a walk… maybe we will head north after all.
Luxury in Bordeaux – running water and flowing electricity just outside
Did I mention we are in Spain? We left the campsite in Bordeaux on Wednesday (the campsite we found for laundry, water and wifi, terrible wifi.) and spent a long time in slow road works traffic. The journey that should have take 2.5 hours took 4 hours. We finally got to a parking spot at a supermarket near the Spanish border before lunch and Denis got to work. I fell asleep… and I blame the coffee.
Temptation
I have a tricky relationship with coffee… I love it but it only loves me if the cups are small and the gaps of abstinence are long. If I have coffee once a week it rewards me with a fire of inspiring ideas and loads of energy. That, I love. But more than twice a week and my reward is tiny palpations and tiredness. Don’t love that. I had already had three cups and then I accidentally had a double espresso! I suppose it wasn’t really accidental, more it’s my terrible grasp of the French language. What I wanted was an Americano. So I asked for a large coffee but then he said cafe au lait? and I hate milk so that was a no. then I tried saying “large” again and he asked “doublo?” Which meant a double espresso (or two weeks of coffee in one cup!) and foolishly I said yes! And then, to top it all, I drank it. Maybe I can’t blame the coffee.
Canoeing along the border between France and Spain
When I woke up Denis was finished his work and we drove over the border to an overnight car park but there was a lot of police activity. The type of activity that includes road blocks and automatic rifles! There were no other motorhomes in the car park so we made a decision to eat dinner and move on.
A different tunnel on a different road at a different time… sorry 😞
One of the things we rarely do is drive at night. There was only 90 minutes left before sunset so we drove those available 90 minutes to a different car park in a different town called Vitoria-Gasteiz. It was a beautiful evening and the lighting was perfect as we drove along this mountainous route. The long tunnels and scary high bridges added to the enjoyment… not. We have a dashboard camera on the front of the van and I took loads of beautiful pictures but you’ll have to imagine them as this was before I realised the dash cam only holds 100 pictures and it was already full… with pictures from 2018. Oh well.
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