Oh.......really hot, hot water and Dave and Alex! Yep both the best things about this campsite. Oh....and the dog makes three, sorry Layla.
We stayed here a few nights in camping Gaivota as, although there was no more to do than turn right or left as you hit the beach, it was a family run campsite and they made you feel welcome and wanted. It was very clean and well looked after and the shower water was hot, hot, hot. Such a small thing to make such a big deal about but luke warm showers on a rainy day even in Spain is not enthralling.
Our first day there we hit the beach. The atlantic Ocean crashes onto these rocky shores at a fierce pace of knots and there is always a sea salt mist hanging over the sand giving the beach a haunted appearance. We turned right and headed for Cathedral Cove. It was very windy and a little cold but we were captivated by the rock formations along this beach (photos on facebook). Towering layers of Schist and marble undercut by the sea stood proudly to attention as we meandered along. Within the Schist layers orange and white layers co existed making the rocks look like enormous sandwiches. The tide was outgoing so we explored Cathedral Cove then headed back for the lunchtime special at a beach cafe overlooking this incredible vista.
The next day we went to the beach and turned left. A rather large township was on the horizon so we opted to walk along the beach to it mainly to find some bread to buy and maybe a supermarket. Having walked a good few kilometres and with the township in our sights - just have to go over there and up those steps - we were pulled up short by an inlet cutting between the 2 beaches which was totally impassable. Turning back we headed for home, deciding to drown our sorrows at a wine bar we had noticed on our way to "town impossible to get to" ........ And that is where we met Alex and Dave and a dog makes three!!!!!!
We have met some amazing people on this journey and Alex and Dave are up there with the best. We sat there drinking wine and beer for several hours, on what turned out to be a very warm, sunny day, giving the waiter at least something to do whilst he was open (very quiet on this coast at this time of year). Every now and then he, the waiter, would come out with a big grin on his face and produce different plates of tapas for us - all put together by himself. He was so proud and we were so grateful. Once again it is these special moments that make the memories. The conversation was good, the tapas was free and the drinks so, so cheap. That evening we joined each other in the camp restaurant - only ones here as well - for a lovely meal and more conversation. Oh yes......and more wine!! We were able to give them some tips for their upcoming trip to NZ and they for our upcoming trip through the Algarve. Sweet.
Saying our goodbyes the following morning we headed into our 4 hour drive to Muros in Galicia, Northern Spain. This was not a pleasant journey through the mountains with high winds, strong wind gusts, torrential rain, long high viaducts like I have never seen before, low cloud and fog. It was a crazy journey which, unbeknown to us, was about to become even crazier.
Bypassing A Coruna and having just left a motorway, we are faced with this enormously long, slow, uphill climb. Apologising to Molly we start our ascent and "BANG" judder, judder Molly throws herself into a fullblown spasm. "What's happened?" says I. "Puncture" says Gary. Well these Spanish roads go on for miles with no pull over areas but it just so happened that there was a very small turn off to a very small village to our right that Gary was able to coax Molly in to. The fact we were blocking the road selfishly did not concern us. Jumping out........our tyre was shredded!!!!!!
Flouro vests on, triangles out front and back, jack, tyre lever, umbrella (yes it was still pouring) etc etc and Gary set to the job in hand. An hour later and realising there is no way on this earth he was ever going to dislodge the spare tyre after it being in situ for all of Molly's 20 years he swallowed his pride and I dialled 112 for assistance. Now this may sound dramatic but think about it rationally. We are stuck half way up a massive hill, partially blocking a turnoff for residents to reach their village, it is pouring with rain, we have no local sim card, speak very little of the language and we have a puncture!!!!
As it happens it was a great decision. The police got an interpreter on the phone in a 3 way conversation and sent out 2 policemen who couldn't release the spare either. They contacted our breakdown insurance company who sent out a breakdown truck with a mechanic on board. A few hours later we were on the road again but sadly the mechanic took a hammer and chisel to the spare tyre holder and also had to cut the wire holding the spare tyre in place. A few kilometres further on we came to a small town which seemed to specialise in tyres (few and far between on this journey) and now Molly is the proud owner of two new back tyres. Upside of the story - could have been much worse and downside - we currently have to carry the spare inside Molly when we travel. The wonderous thing about all of this is the outcome being achieved with no one, except the interpreter, speaking English and us not speaking Spanish.
It is now getting very dark and very late but we finally roll into the cute little seaside village of Muros and the rain has stopped. Our campsite is supposed to be just outside of this village but it is much further than that and the campsite is awful. It is closing in 3 days time and the owners have virtually abandoned it although they hot foot it to take our registration. The rain starts again in ernest during the night and will continue all through the following day and night as well. We are totally Molly bound and we do not even get to see the sea as the morning we are due to leave we have, once again, very high winds. As we head out of the campsite we stop to pay and the office is closed. We ring the bell, wander the campsite looking for them - maybe they are cleaning the sanitary block which has not been cleaned since we arrived - go to their accommodation but no-one is to be found - they truly have abandoned us. We fix a note of explanation against the door with our UK cell number on it and leave. The wind is getting stronger and we are keen to get on our way - we have wasted half an hour trying to find them. We feel guilty but we go. To this day we have not heard from them and wonder if we ever will.
Relieved to leave this awful place behind we are going to try a camperstop with electricity for just one night but once again we have to travel through mountains, which obviously involves more viaducts to get there along the Xunta-de-Galicia, stopping at a rural supermarket to stock up "Spanish style" where the fresh meat was hacked off a block and very cheap. Our supplies were getting dangerously low but alas still no hummus and when we came out?.........yep it was raining again. Stopping for a "menu of the day" lunch, which is cheap, involves many courses and stops us from eating in the evening, I decide it is time to harden up and try the local fish!!!!!! Putting aside its presentation, tail in mouth, it was actually very delicious and it has set me on a "fish course" much to Gary's delight.
Finally arriving at our Camperstop we discover it no longer exists and we decide to freedom camp in a Sports centre car park in Sanxenxo, watching the wind and kite surfers, for the night - something we said we would never do in Spain - and as we were joined by another camper at about midnight we spend a peaceful night feeling very safe and cosy. The wind and rain subside overnight, it is dark until at least 9am (no daylight saving in Spain) so we enjoy a well deserved lie in.
Tomorrow we head South for Portugal where we hope the weather will be better.
Such are the joys of travel - wouldn't be right without an adventure or two thrown in!!!!!!
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