The free bit of Alhambra

June 3, 2024June 2, 2024 | Mairead

Saturday, we left the small hilltop town and drove two hours to Granada. We’d read about a camper parking near a restaurant and a bus to the city. It was hot, hot, hot when we arrived at the parking. A quick lock up and we set off for the bus stop.

The guy in reception didn’t have very good English but I understood we had to walk to a nearby petrol station and then the bus stop would be across the road. Which wasn’t completely accurate. Across the road and twenty minutes walk would have been more accurate. We were lucky to meet a couple of other campers who gave us directions when we looked confused.

They then told us where to get off when we arrived in the middle of Granada. By now we were hungry and tired and needed food and a sit down. We picked the first cool (temperature not vibe) restaurant we passed. We ordered and sat in silence listening to the chatter all around.

The food really helped because when we were finished we had a sense we could do anything, including find our way up to the Alhambra (the old part of Granada) by following our noses. We were eventually successful but all energy reserves had been used up scaling the scenic route. Warning: Make sure you have the shortest, shadiest route uphill when the weather is 10 degrees higher than you are comfortable with.

Path less travelled, with views of Sierra Nevada in the distance, Granada

Eventually, we reached the top (where we saw the buses we could have taken… oh well never mind). We were confused not to be able to see the Alhambra but at least we saw the entrance. Seeing the entrance turned out to be the high point because in order to get inside the entrance you have to book tickets many months in advance… we had not booked tickets.

We spoke to a lovely local guide, asking if there were any tickets available into anything. There were a couple of buildings (including toilets) near a different entrance, free to enter. She directed us towards them via the gardens.

Alhambra (the part where no ticket is required)

It’s funny how grateful you can be for something you’d normally take for granted. Today we were so delighted and grateful for directions to a bus stop, cold drinks, food out of the sun and now we were absolutely ecstatic with gardens. Why? Because they were created to make you feel cool when the temperatures are hot. The city of Granada gets the highest summer temperatures in Europe (and I think it also gets the lowest winter temperatures).

Our temperatures had continued to rise all day and by now it was the hottest but we were fine. There was a forest of trees and stone benches and the best – channels of cold water running down both edges of the road. The Spanish really do know how to do cool.

Oh there was a wedding (with disco) late into Saturday night at the restaurant near the camper parking. Meaning, there was no dinner for the uninvited (us) so we utilized our first emergency dinner rations – a tin of red salmon and a pack of cream crackers – Irish tapas, anyone?

Three for two plus free bread

June 2, 2024June 1, 2024 | Mairead

Hello! I’m back and sorry about the delay. I was bitten and it was hot and it took all my energy staying sane. We are in Portugal as I write, sheltering from the heat with shade and showers and cafe abatanada (americano coffee) on tap. There’s no going off on adventures, catching local transport or visiting museums – staying cool seems adventurous enough.

Some of my bug bites. Also, toilets are the coolest place (as in, not as hot as outside)

It’s 27 degrees C here at the campsite at the moment, it’s forecast to go past 30. I’m sitting on the steps of a closed restaurant in a sliver of shade. We will move on tomorrow and hug the coast and travel north to get that temperature down for me. Denis doesn’t have the same requirement for sane temperatures and can work away inside the van (where temperatures go up to 10 degrees higher than outside) while I wilt (and complain loudly) in the shade.

Here’s the beautiful beach near the campsite with the monster bugs

The bug bites are healing now and I don’t look as diseased as I did… or maybe I don’t care as much. They were a new kind of bug and I didn’t really notice them at first, thought they were flies landing on me. Two days later I was able to count 40 itchy blisters. It had been during the day, there was a breeze blowing… mosquitoes come out in the evening and don’t like the wind, right? What were these new monsters? I really don’t like getting bitten, it’s like a blackness comes over me and everything turns negative. I am hell to live with. Of course I didn’t spray any repellant, I thought I was safe if I stayed inside at dusk with the little bug-killing light. I wasn’t, nope.

View of Baños de la Encina from the camper parking at night

I want to catch you up on where we’ve been since I last wrote and that’s what’s coming next.

Not sure photos can show the steep gradient in the town…

We left Toledo late afternoon on Friday and headed for the small town of Baños de la Encina where a hot shower awaited. It had been a long day and there would be two and a half more hours driving but the temperature was lower than France had been so all was well.

Arriving at the foot of the very steep village at 8.45pm we had quick showers and headed uphill. It was the kind of hill that was so steep it makes you wonder how you’ll get back down again in one piece. But of course every step upwards brought views worth the effort.

View of the countryside from halfway up the hill

We had googled for a tapas restaurant and there was one at the top. The place was hopping, our timing was accidentally perfect – meaning food was available. We read the menu as best we could but didn’t quite understand the procedure. There were plenty of options but which ones were tapas and what were those others?

When the waitress arrived Denis asked, do you speak English? She smiled, said no, just a moment and left. While she was gone we did our best to use the translate app on the whole menu but still we weren’t sure. Eventually a young man arrived at the restaurant door, rushed to a cupboard to pick up his apron and came to ask us what we wanted. He could speak English! We ordered what we thought were a few tapas dishes and then he told us something that now made sense as we looked around at all the other diners.

He told us the tapas were free with an alcoholic drink – Denis could have one but I would have to pay for mine. Everyone there had a single tapas and a drink. No one was actually having dinner. This was possibly pre-dinner time. When he arrived with our food we started to understand that we had ordered three full dinners between us… and he’d also added a plate of free bread. Plus we had just finished our “free” tapas.

Needless to say we couldn’t finish our dinners. We did make it back to the campsite without getting lost or sliding down the hill and next morning (Saturday) we headed off to Grenada, another hilltop old town.

And another place where we didn’t quite understand the procedure.

Toledo and the Museum

May 22, 2024May 21, 2024 | Mairead

View of Toledo (old city) from our parking spot

Friday morning we left the scene of the massacre and drove to Toledo, just south of Madrid. We parked in a free car park at the base of the old city. And as luck would have it someone had built an escalator up to the top. Although not as hot as our first week we appreciated the assistance.

Arriving at lunchtime is perfect when you’re in an old city – lots of tourist cafes. We found a small one cafe and ordered eggs, leeks and potatoes (chopped up and fried together) along with sparkling water. There were so many attractions we could have visited within ten minutes of the cafe but we picked just two.

The knights of Templar museum was underwhelming but had good toilets, we’ll call that a win. The El Greco museum on the other hand was most enjoyable. I had a vague recollection of an artist called El Greco but remembered nothing of his work but it wasn’t his art that I enjoyed. It was his house and garden. Well, when I say his house it wasn’t exactly his house, it wasn’t his house at all really.

Some years ago guy with enough money bought a house he thought had been El Greco’s, then renovated it so that it looked exactly as it did when El Greco was alive and well and painting. Now, I don’t know if this guy found out his mistake but if he did I hope he wasn’t too disappointed because although he may have been wrong about the house, he ended up creating something very beautiful. I’m glad he did.

Denis decided he wasn’t interested in El Greco so found a cafe nearby while I made my way to the museum. We had been travelling since early and had already walked a lot, it was getting hot and I was tired when I walked into the reception area. When it was my turn I asked for one ticket. The lady asked me something I didn’t understand (my Spanish is slightly better than my Japanese and a little worse than my French) but she asked again in English. “Are you over 65?”

The front door of the house leading into an open courtyard

Thinking I must look as tired as I feel, I smiled and said no. “It is free if you’re over 65, I have to ask and many people don’t look over 65. Like you, you don’t look over 65. I have to ask because it is €3 if you’re not.” She was out of breath by the time she finished and I was laughing. I handing over my money. She asks where was I from and when I said Ireland, she was delighted because her daughter’s teacher is from Ireland and “a lovely person”.

Cookbook in the kitchen of El Greco’s house

I’m was still smiling as I exited reception. It took me a moment to realise I’d entered into a cool dark green garden, sheltered from the sun, I’m all alone. The Spanish know how to generate shade. I suppose it’s key to surviving here. It feels like I’m being hugged, I feel grateful to the man who decided to create this place even if it’s not exactly where he thought it was. Happy mistake.

While I was at the museum Denis was enjoying a coffee with this view! Toledo is very surprising

Sleeping with the prawns

May 20, 2024May 19, 2024 | Mairead

Wednesday, we set off from Palencia in the direction of Madrid. Probably not going to Madrid, cities are hard work with a bigger vehicle. We had been told about Toledo a few years ago when the temperatures were too high for a comfortable visit. It was positively chilly-ish at the moment… Let’s go see Toledo!

I can no longer remember what we had been told about the city so we will have to look it up but there’s loads of time we are travelling more slowly and we won’t reach Toledo until Friday. What will we discover? Beautiful buildings? Interesting history? Nature and wildlife? I wonder will there be parking for us? Or public transport?

We spent Wednesday night in the middle of rolling farmland, as far as the eye could see. Navalmanzano services has a petrol station, plenty of parking, a small shop, toilets, and a cafeteria serving breakfast lunch and dinner. We were almost the only ones in the enormous parking, so we could park anywhere, we went up the back, away from the road. Denis started work while I ambled around taking photos of fluffy clouds.

It was surprisingly quiet all day with only birdsong and a sky full of my favourite clouds. The cafeteria was busy and absolutely packed between 1pm and 4pm when multi generational families arrived for lunch. The food looked great, very simple homemade style and served all day so it was still available when we were ready in the evening.

Just before bedtime we noticed the parking was filling up and a new truck had parked beside us. Judging by the photo on the side it was full of prawns. We didn’t realise the significance of this until much, much later… sometime around midnight, I’d guess.

Food trucks need refrigeration and this one definitely had refrigeration. All through the night the fridge turned on and off at intervals, to keep the prawns comfortable. The odd thing for me was I woke up in silence and was about to get back to sleep when I heard the noise start. Can silence wake you? Seems like the noise of the refrigeration motor lulled me to sleep and the silence woke me up. Denis slept right through the silence and the noise.

The black (with a touch of red) dots – journey to Navalmanzano

But I do love prawns…

Here I am…

May 16, 2024May 15, 2024 | Mairead

Sunday afternoon, we finally arrived in Spain. And spent the night in a supermarket carpark. The supermarket was closed. It is closed every Sunday… there’s something we did not remember about Spain.

Next morning we topped up the groceries, had a Spanish coffee and set off. It still feels like we haven’t arrived at our destination yet. It makes me feel unsettled and disturbed. I’m starting to realise this happens every time and now might be a good time to get comfortable with the discomfort. Or at least stop resisting the discomfort. Maybe get comfortable deciding that everywhere we go we arrive at a destination. Or maybe comfortable with the idea that there really is no destination. This kind of travel means we will be continuously travelling until we turn around and travel back. I’ve never thought of it like that before. Is that what we do all our lives…?

On Monday after the supermarket we drove to the town of Palencia about 90 minutes south west. That night we found a tapas bar for dinner. Another thing we had forgotten about Spain, the Spanish eat dinner much later so no food at the first two places we tried. Number three was successful even thought we were the only ones ordering food. People were dropping in to meet friends, to stop on their way from work, from minding a grandchild or to watch football on the tv. Everyone was offered a tiny bread roll with a slice of ham, a potato croquette skewered on top. Sounds odd? Tastes surprisingly amazing and gives you a bit of an appetite for more plus due to the saltiness of the ham, an appetite for drinking. Ingenious marketing.

I remembered to take a picture (of the least photogenic but very tasty dish we have had on this journey…)

We ate our little rolls and stared hard at the menu. Everything was in Spanish and we could have done with a few photos, like the Japanese menus but it was not to be. We ordered four tapas dishes, or so we thought. We had actually ordered one (chicken, salad and chips) dinner and one tapas (spicy chorizo). It was all tasty and no one seemed to notice us eating from a single dinner plate.

One of the many churches in the center of Palentia

Tuesday morning we walked into town for coffee. Two coffees, one pastry and change from €5… we had forgotten that about Spain too. When Denis left to start work I started my work – people watching. My favourite was the lady reading a book with her coffee while her dog snoozed on her lap, his little head supported by her arm. An older couple sat close together, arms intertwined, him staring off into the distance, her reading quietly to him from a newspaper. A younger man carrying a bulging, battered red rucksack with an umbrella sticking out the side. When he maneuvered his tray into a nearby table I noticed his ankles were very swollen. Had he been walking for days? Was he unwell?

Sitting here in this cafe, I have arrived, sharing space with these humans and this dog is my destination today. This is more than enough

French Rules

May 14, 2024May 14, 2024 | Mairead

Not exactly French coffee on the road… (from McCafe)

Saturday, we got up early having learned from the previous day that the coolest time for driving is early morning (or in the dark). Let me rephrase that, we got up early – in our dreams. When we woke at 10 it was no longer early. We had learned to be less optimistic about the length of time we could spend driving in this heat – also in our dreams. And we drove for exactly the same amount of time as yesterday. I can’t help but feel disappointed in us, we could have done so much better.

But we weren’t punished for our lack of learning and within a half hour of our destination we noticed clouds. Would there be rain?

Indeed there would be rain. Not a lot but enough and the thunder we heard promised more. We were staying the night in an old French campsite with more rules than we are used to from the French. Having travelled for, the now regular, 7.5 hours to get there I was less than on top form for translation but Denis enjoys leaving the sign ins to me. Ce qui sera, sera.

The French receptionist didn’t speak English and as I alluded to yesterday I don’t perform well in the heat (also not in the rain or impending stormy weather). So I agreed to all the rules and paid up. I directed Denis to park in the manner I understood was necessary to be a good camper and made myself comfortable.

I woke up to find Denis and the husband of the receptionist discussing our parking… it seems we were on the wrong side of the tree and pointing the wrong way. There was a storm coming (yippee!) and our position was dire and would cause us storm damage. I could hear Denis’ incredulous, “Really?”and the husband repeating (in English) “Really!” We had to reposition.

The storm turned out to be a little lack luster but the rain did not come in our open door and we did not have storm damage. But the rain meant we would not be making the 10 minute walk to the town for another chance of a French meal. Probably just as well, our eating out budget was already over stretched. French restaurants charge the same as Irish restaurants, our budget is more Portuguese inspired. Fortunately, we had visited a supermarket before we left Fontenay Le Compt and dined on fried fish and salad leaves listening to the thunder.

That’s us on the wrong side of the tree, pointing in the wrong direction

Next morning we set off (no, not early) in fog and mist feeling a little chilly, thrilled with ourselves. Today we would be crossing the border into Spain, a journey of little over an hour. As we got closer I remembered something I really needed and googled a supermarket just kilometers inside the border. The French love crafts and a lot of their craft magazines are exquisite with lots of pictures, making the language barrier almost insignificant. Today, I would be the happy owner of one more. (Yes, I have a collection of them at home. Yes, I do need more.)

Yes the supermarket was closed but look at that beautiful overcast sky!

We arrived in the car park, me like a child at Christmas. Until I noticed the sign, Ouvert Dimanche Matin… Noooo, it’s Sunday! “What time is it?” It was precisely 12.30pm. Precisely. That is the time French supermarkets (the few that open on Sundays) close on Sundays. There would be no craft magazine today… my little heart was broken…

Oh no hang on I’m grand, maybe the Spanish like craft magazines?

To France and beyond

May 12, 2024May 12, 2024 | Mairead

We’re off again! To France and beyond.

We thought we were leaving on Bank Holiday Monday but the ferry was cancelled. The rebooking for Wednesday was then cancelled. The rebooking of that for Thursday went ahead and as we sat on the ferry on Thursday evening we made a decision to drive for 5 hours through France as soon as we docked.

How were we to know France (and Ireland too) would be going through a heat wave? There is a line in the book I’m reading, The mindful body by Ellen Langer, where she encourages us to “treat all of our choices as opportunities for growth and education.” In hindsight we had a choice… stay by the coast where cool breezes take the edge off the heat. Or, move further south, more intense heat, less breeze. We seem to have accidentally chosen the opportunity for growth and education… oh and the engine air conditioning broke! It’s far from air conditioning we were reared – we opened the windows. The wind noise made conversation difficult but to be honest as the thermometer rose past 36 degrees C the phrase from childhood, “if you have nothing kind to say, say nothing at all” came to mind and I said nothing at all.

The number on the right is outside temperature, it went up to 36 C

Seven and a half hours later we arrived at the town of Fontenay Le Compt. Parking ticket secured we headed off to eat. We had remembered a restaurant from years ago. It was in a cute little square near the river. There was a pretty bar across the square and trees dotted around. The setting was gorgeous, the people were friendly, there was air conditioning and the food was divine. What was it called?

Unfortunately, the restaurant remained as a lovely memory in my head – we could not find it or the square. To be honest we didn’t search as long as we might have in a different country. The window of opportunity for meal consumption in France is very precise and there was a dire possibility we would miss out. We googled, restaurants. It’s difficult to get a horrible meal in France and we did not get a horrible meal. We must remember this restaurant for next time, the setting and the food were just as picturesque and divine as the missing one.

Oh yes of course I took a picture of the food and the setting – I was hungry and tired and hot, there is no picture… sorry.

We’ll probably never find it again. My mind is a bundle of beautiful places with no directions.

This year’s map will be minimalistic … did I mention I don’t perform well in the heat?
The red dots – ferry journey from Rosslare. The yellow dots driving to Fontenay-le-Comte

The Imperial War Museum Duxford

October 20, 2023October 19, 2023 | Mairead

Did I tell you that I don’t want to go to any more war museums or aircraft museums or army museums…? To me they are places to go if you want to be sad. Denis loves them and so he was really excited when he saw that we would be passing very close to the Imperial War Museum on our route home. For the first time I asked him why is he so excited about going to a place where you see lots of machines for killing people. He was a little taken aback by my question. He sees the bravery of pilots and the technological advances of engineering that made these machines escape gravity and fly where I see death.

It interests me when anyone (even my husband!) is excited about something. As a socially uncomfortable introvert I need all the hacks I can get to lower the level of discomfort I often feel when talking to people in a social setting. I always put too much energy into the conversation and try really hard to cheer everyone up or tell them something interesting. My less uncomfortable friends tell me this is not necessary. All I need to do is ask the other person about themselves.

How hard could it be to ask someone about themselves? Unfortunately, I have somehow got it into my mind that asking someone about themselves is an invasion of privacy. Is it covered by GDPR? What if I ask some I’ve just met where they are from and they think I’m going to follow them home? Or write them long newsy letters? If I ask them what they work at, will they think I’m being nosey? Or shallow? While I’m wondering these things my level of anxiety increases but I smile bravely, so that they are not alarmed. And silence follows.

I think I mentioned a lady talking to me in the supermarket queue when we were in Bury St. Edmonds, didn’t I? She was a very chatty person. I had no anxious thoughts, thankfully, after all it wasn’t what I would consider a social occasion. She wasn’t expecting much from me and the odd nod and smile was enough. And maybe that was why I was brave and actually asked her a question. At some point in the conversation she said, “I must be bored I’m sorry I’m chatting your head off” and I asked her what she liked to do when she wasn’t bored.

There’s something not quite right about this map…

She paused for only a moment. Then her face lit up with a smile and she told me all about her garden and her grandchildren playing in her garden. Her happy energy made me smile too and we might have been there still except the Tesco cashier said, “next please”. We waved to each other as I left the shop and she made me think I could – maybe – crack the social anxiety.

Planes hang from the ceiling of the huge hanger…

The thing someone loves about their life is magical, just talking about it has the potential to change their energy. And not just their energy, ours too. And that’s why I went to the Imperial War Museum. It wasn’t too bad, I only felt sad when I saw the empty bag of fertiliser in the Northern Ireland exhibit. Denis didn’t see it, he saw lots of technology and really loved it.

Summary: People are very interesting in the way they love different things. Encouraging someone to talk about the thing they love can have magical effects. Query: What do you love?

Anglesey Abbey continued

October 10, 2023October 9, 2023 | Mairead

This is an apple tree under one of the front windows. Can you see an apple?

Urban Huttleston Rodgers Broughton (also known as Lord Fairhaven) bought Anglesey Abbey with his brother in 1926, he continued to live in the house after his brother had married and moved out. In 1966 when he died he left the house, its contents and the gardens to the National Trust.

The library is upstairs at the end of a long corridor. It has high ceilings and lots of books but the first thing you see as you enter the door is a huge painting on the wall opposite. It’s a John Constable original called The Opening of Waterloo Bridge, from 1817.

The shelves are recycled wood from Waterloo Bridge

I hadn’t noticed the painting when I first walked in but a volunteer in the Wardrobe Project told me to go back and have a look when I said I found it very interesting that the the wooden shelves with the books are made from salvaged wood… from the Waterloo Bridge. I didn’t check but I’m guessing the bridge needed updating after a hundred years of service and Urban was looking for wood. But maybe he was also interested in recycling? A man ahead of his time? But there’s something else that’s interesting about the library – the window.

A different volunteer asked me if I’d heard about the window, no I hadn’t. So she walked me to one end of the room and pulled back the curtain. Do you see the signatures? No. No way, yes I do… is that…? Urban was very friendly with royalty, the late queen and the present king included. And here scratched on the glass were their signatures.

…and here’s a close up of a section. Can you see the names scratched on the glass?

The Wardrobe Project involves cleaning all 12,000 pieces of Urban’s clothing using a very particular vacuum cleaner that can be set to gentle with a very odd attachment – a goat haired brush. After cleaning each piece of clothing is tagged with a six digit inventory code which is printed on a label and stitched to the piece of clothing. And two of the people involved were vacuuming what looked like plus-four trousers when I walked into the room. I wanted to ask questions but they had more than enough to be doing with the cleaning.

As I mentioned in the previous post my favourite part of the house was the kitchen because it was full of familiar old things. Like the red melamine table and chairs set – we had one of those when I was little!

And the fairy soap? Ok we didn’t have the soap but we had (and I still use) fairy washing up liquid. And the weighing scales with the individual weights? The grocery shop in our street used a weighing scales with weights to weight out biscuits and cheese.

The kitchen was made up of a few different rooms downstairs and it was the last section of the house visit. Next was out into the gardens. I had already walked by the lawn and forested section but now I was on my way to the Dahlia garden. There seemed to be a lot of interest in the Dahlias, so I considered skipping them but I’m glad I didn’t.

Individual weights on the weighing scales

Visiting the Dahlia Garden reminded me of something long forgotten… I almost bought dahlia bulbs to plant in the garden when I was a young Mum. They were so vibrant and colourful and something about planting an ugly bulb that would surprise me by growing into something beautiful caught my attention. But as soon as I read the bit on the instructions where you have to dig them up at the end of their season and replant the following year I put them back. Knowing I would forget to dig them up and then feel guilty when they died had put me off.

The bed of dahlias were first planted in 1952, there are 60 varieties and contain all the colours of the rainbow plus white. They are hidden behind a hedge and set in a curve so that you only see one or two colours at a time as you approach. There’s a quote from Urban on the information board, “The subtle thing about garden design is that no one can resist seeing what happens around a curve.”

I was taking lots of close up photos when I heard a couple chatting… to the flowers? There are full time gardeners employed here at Anglesey Abbey and one of them was in among the flowers, deadheading. The couple were talking to him and asking about taking up the bulbs at the end of the season. There’s no way they dig up the bulbs from all these flowers. Is there? And if they don’t dig up the bulbs then maybe I could give dahlias another chance.

It turns out they don’t exactly dig up the bulbs… they dig up pots. They plant each new bulb in a pot and plant the pot in the garden. Then at the end of the season they dig up the pots with the bulbs still in and store pot and bulb in the (potting?) shed until next year.

Summary: Lord Fairhaven (Urban) was a man before his time. Interested in recycling, garden design, reading and long lasting clothing, he had lots of friends and he let the royal ones graffiti his windows. Query: Will the Dahlias die if I don’t dig them up?

Travel stories

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