Again a preface to the blog to explain that I am writing nearly three years after the events chronicled below and a lot has changed in the interim:-( It was a different pre-Covid world back in January 2020 and we just set off in all innocence seeking sun in the winter months.

We started the year confidently thinking we would follow the now well-trodden path of the last few years and swoop down to Portugal to start with. One change we had decided upon was to spend less time touring and more time parked up in our favourite campsite on the Spanish mediterranean coast just south of Denia. To get the best of the weather we would head to the Algarve and tootle around for three or so weeks then motor gently around the south coast of Spain to Los Pinos for 1 February. I had booked a pitch for the whole of the month of February:-) We left the UK on 6th January – a nice early date for the last year we would have unconstrained freedom to travel in Europe without having to count the days:-(

Even though it gets you directly to Spain we couldn’t face the ferry across the Bay of Biscay in January – we’d done it twice before and been lucky – beating a big atlantic storm by the skin of our teeth one time. So we had opted to take the shortish overnight crossing from Portsmouth to St Malo. From there we would drive down the west coast of France, cross into Spain near Biarritz and then a diagonal route into Portugal. Once again, to minimise the stress of deadlines, we left the day before our booking and stopped overnight at the very accommodating Stratton Arms near Oxford. Here you can hook up the electricity and get a decent pub meal for a few pounds. Then it was a leisurely drive to Portsmouth for a short overnight crossing and a reasonably long drive to a chilly looking aire at St Jean D’Angely.

I’m not going into much detail about this trip down because, as usual, I am in catch up mode and, back then, we were just searching for sun and warmth. And a swim! Also because I don’t remember much detail and am pretty much relying on photograhs to remind me! These indicate that we got on the motorway and headed south with all speed (about 55mph). Next stop was way south of Bordeaux and en route we found this: yes, sunshine! Hoorah!

We kept going south on the motorway and we have both forgotten if we made another overnight stop before reaching the open-all-year campsite at Urrugne on the border with Spain. It has an indoor swimming pool so pausing only one night for a dip and a sleep we passed seamlessly into Spain the next day. The motorway took us south west to the city of Valladolid where a city centre car park provided a pleasant spot to sleep and we had enough time for a wander around its ancient and modern streets making friends and meeting people.

Keeping focussed on getting south we powered past Spanish cities with evocative names – Salamanca, Cuidad Rodrigo – and over the border into Portugal. Turning south we arrived at the hill top town of Belmonte – what a charming spot that was. The promised cafe opposite the Aire seemed not to be open – we have learned over the years that cafes are often not open in the out of season times we tend to travel and not to get your hopes up:-( At least that way you get a pleasant surprise if they are:-) It is home to the remarkable community of Belmonte Jews who have survived there since the twelfth century by appearing to convert to Christianity for several hundred years but actually keeping their Jewish faith alive in secret. They officially returned to Judaism in 1970. We had a steep little wander around the town, taking far too many pictures, and watching a lovely wintery sunset.

Due-ish south again to another fortified town and another car park. Don’t mean to sound bored by it, quite the opposite in fact but we were touring to a destination at the time, rather than tootling around an area. They seem to be two separate pleasures – there is a real excitement to being on the road finding a different place to stay each night but, equally a great pleasure in finding somewhere you just want to stay for a while. This trip was combining both: three or four weeks touring and four weeks stationary in a beautiful snowbirding site full of ex-pats from all over Europe.

The fort was not the only thing we took a picture of here: we seem to have a coolant problem:-(

Neil had suspected a leak just before we left so we were equipped with containers of fluid and could keep going until we could find a garage to investigate it for us. Judging from other peoples’ blogs and posts it seems to be the norm to find a, possibly serious, problem with your motorhome just as you set off for a long trip:-( We’d decided to skip Mikki’s Place this year in favour of a site closer to the sea in Armação de Pera. It is a site at the start of the town a few minutes stroll from the sea. We like Armação – a relaxed and not overcrowded seaside town with lots of places to eat and drink whilst sitting in the sun contemplating the great Atlantic. The other advantage of the site is that it has an onsite motorhome repair bay so could maybe fix young Portia. Sadly not – but they knew a place that could and directed us a couple of miles inland to Alcantarilha – the place we used to pedal to from Mikki’s to do the shopping. Fortunately they could fit us in without too much delay so we made an appointment and setttled into camp for some sun and sea for a few days.

The garage had said it would take all day after they had got the parts but we could stay on the forecourt while they fettled Portia. This was a bonus as it meant we did not have to find a hotel. We got there in the morning of 15th and after a wander went to a nice looking local restaurant for lunch. This is one of the best meals I have ever eaten.

The sleeping spot was a little on the grim side but once the curtains were shut it made little difference. Portia did not enjoy it however:-( And it was not a cheap fix:-(( It seems a stone had pierced the radiator, requiring a new one and, while in there, the water pump may as well be replaced etc.

The job extended over the whole of the next day so we went back to the seaside to hang about –

In the meantime a fellow Motorhome Fun member (it’s a forum Neil belongs to) got in touch. He and some fellow members were encamped just up the road in a new private Aire and were solicitous about our predicament. He turned up on a bike and suggested we should go and join them once the work was over as it would be a bit late to find anywhere else. Great – that was really nice of him. The new site seems to be a joint venture between a couple of brit moho owners and the local farm site owner. It is a lovely spot and has a ready-made swimming pool (not yet renovated). Neil thought the free-roaming hyenas were a bit much. Hindsight tells us that the Aire venture did not succeed however – after a couple of days there I suspected it may be due to too many big personalities.

After a few sociable days, including a mass full-english in an Armação cafe, we decided it was time to make the long trip across the south of Portugal and Spain and up around the corner a bit to Denia. There is a relatively new motorhome site set off the main road to Spain. It’s run by an enthusiastic young couple who have bought an old farm and turned its old olive grove into a lovely sunny/shady place to stay – without damaging the olive trees. It’s a bit in the middle of nowhere but so peaceful and with walks or cycle rides to nearby towns. Looking back I see that this site too has now closed 😦 Apparently it is temporary and probably due to the tumultuous events that started later in this year.

The photos indicate we stayed four nights, which surprises me as it is not on the coast or by a lake – our usual preferred locations. But we pedalled to a nearby petrol station for lunch (it had a very decent cafe attached) and then further afield to an interesting looking town. In the meantime we had decided to route ourselves along the coast to get to Spain and explore the famous coastal cities hereabouts rather than cut across inland. So, on 24th we aimed for Spain and found a strange intermediate stop at what seemed to be a caravan storage/stable establishment. It was wet and grey now so we huddled up to the little shower/toilet building for a night.

Destination Cadiz, where the king of Spain got his beard singed by Francis Drake, but we stopped an hour short at Jerez la Frontera, famous for….Sherry. Worth a stop on any true Brits itinerary! Another motorhome dealer’s forecourt but we were greeted with a glass of the aforementioned sherry before being directed to a spot by a perimeter fence.

Not the most picturesque site but it is nice to feel secure in a city location. And, being on the main road, it was adjacent to the bus stop into the town centre. We had a fairly extensive wander around the attractive old buildings, especially the cathedral, before getting the exact same bus with the exact same driver back out.

When getting busses in strange places I have learned it is important to imprint the place you board onto your mind’s eye so you know where to get off on the return journey – one stretch of semi-industrial city road looks much like another! The only excitement at the site is the next morning when a German van pulls confidently out and rips his roof open on the overhanging corrugated roof opposite – you can just see the roof in the second picture up above but not the accident:-( If you are going to rip holes in your van it is probably a good idea to do it in the car park of a repair shop! And it is a fully serviced overnight stopping place with showers and everything as well.

Moving swiftly on we arrived in Cadiz the next morning and found our spot – another car park but one with a much better view. The information about paying and parking for this site was unclear and quite confusing. The gates which should have been closed were open and the office that should have been open was closed. I forget the exact difficulty now but we were slightly worried about parking up and then finding the gate locked when we wanted to leave without the ticket we should have bought on arrival. Or something like that. So we just parked up anyway and went for a wander. Cadiz is a magnificant port, largely 16th century, surrounded by the sea with just a narrow spit joining it to the mainland – almost an island but now with a spectacular bridge connecting it as well.

Being earlyish we treated ourselves to a breakfast of cheese/anchovy/ham toasties in the square outside the cathedral before being irresistably drawn past the elegant parks to the walk around the sea walls.

The stones you can see piled against the sea wall above are home to hundreds of cats. They seem to be loved by the locals and dotted amongst the stones are cat beds and bowls. I wonder what happens when a big Atlantic storm blows in?

Our walk took us out to the distant lighthouse (closed) then back to the van via a cake shop:-) I plotted the route around the coast to Denia to arrive on 1 February.

Cadiz is lovely but we headed off the next day managing both to find the man in the office to pay our €3.10 and avoid the tiny city centre streets by ignoring the blandishments of Stella the satnav. We did cut a bit of coastline off so only saw Gibralter looking rugged in the distance

before dropping back down to Malaga. The roads were prettty empty until we approached Malaga where the area became a nightmare modern development of holiday resorts and golf courses. Outside of town a free Aire had caught my eye. It was fabulous – a small car park by the sea in the sun. We took one of the last places alongside fellow freeloaders and enjoyed a stroll on the promenade in the sunset.

Next, three nights in a proper little campsite on the sea – La Garrofa, outside Almeira. Got fairly tied up in traffic in Almeira trying to find a supermarket to stock up but the roads had been taken up and the diversion signs didn’t last the course. Found another one then set off for the campsite which had to be approached from a non-intuitive direction due to a landslide. They had no recollection of the booking I had made the day before (by email – so no denying its existence) but fortunately had one space left. Phew. Lots of long-stay motorhomers on this attractive site with a cafe bar that was open and served good cheap food – three courses €10. Was it a mistake that they tried to charge us twice for the drinks? Who knows – they rectified it uncomplainingly.

It was a bit of a ramshackle site in places where getting a hot shower was a matter of careful timing, but it was very sociable with people, many English, happy to chat and others happy to chat in English anyway. Birthdays were celebrated in the cafe. There was apparently another cafe at the hotel at the far end of the road that was closed to traffic due to the landslide but you could still walk there. We did just that while the sun burnt the mist off in the morning. The cafe was closed. Of course it was. But we came back for a swim once the sun got out and rather nice ham and cheese tostadas at the campsite cafe:-) A nice spot for a winter sojourn but we were booked in somewhere even nicer in a day’s time so, time to hit the road again.

This would be a quick one night stop to position us to arrive in a timely manner for our one month idle idyll in Los Pinos. The road that started as motorway contracted to dirt track between groves of oranges and lemons before we arrived at Bon Bini. The gate was locked and a notice said closed for February. It was only January 31 so we chanced a phone call and the very obliging Dutch owner said we could stay but only one night as he was flying to Holland for eye surgery the next day. That was all we wanted so all was well and we parked up and enjoyed the splendid views across the orange trees to the far sierras. Wonderful!

This was our last night of full European citizenship:-( 1st February marked the beginning of the transitional year after which we could not travel freely around these wonderful places. It dawned sunny and after showering in the spotless little Wendy House that constituted the shower block set off on the last two hours to Denia.