Now we are about to just "pop into France" to meet up with our great UK friends who we first met in Split Croatia - Calum and Jane - they operate "The fun bus" as we operate Molly Bolero or Molly B for short. (Molly A we have not forgotten you).
As we leave Alquezar we backtrack a little through Huerto de Vero, Pozan de Vero and Castilla Zuelo and past El Grado - where there is a huge power station perched on the hillside - and Abizanda and Samitia. We are starting to climb from the Lower to the Haute (high) Pyranees and the drive is spectacular. We are driving through everyday Spain, as opposed to tourist Spain, as we barrel through Mediano and past Castejon taking in all the small villages straddling the hilltops around us. Morillo de Tar flashes past as does L'Ainsa and Labuerda which sits under the watchful eye of a huge mountain.
We are on the Pyranian Aragonis route where the roads are now quite twisty and narrow and at La Fortunada we are faced with a huge truck whizzing around a sharp lefthander and well over the centre white line. Remember we are right hand drive but driving on the right too which leaves me as a passenger slightly more than exposed. There is also nothing to our right but a steep drop. How Gary managed to avoid a collision I do not know - maybe he just closed his eye and went for it??? but it was definitely time for a coffee and a talk with the universe after that one.
Which we did, beside a river and just before the border between Spain and France, at Bielsa.
Snow poles are now starting to appear at 1800metres and we are definitely in the High Pyranees now. A long tunnel appears and when we finally come out the other end we are in France - just like that - and our descent begins which feels as though it goes on and on forever. Open roads, no side protection or barriers just massive drops if you unfortunately misjudge, and continuous hair-pin bends as we snake down through Aragnouet Chambrere, Aragnouet and Aragnouet Moudang, Eget and Cite. We go through many avalanche tunnels, past the ski town of St Lary, through Boursip and Ancizan and we are now on the Route de la Lacs. Beyrede is next and we are in the Vallee du Louron where we pass through Sarrancolin - a very Australian looking place - Rebouc, Heches and Bartle-de Nest and we are at our destination????? .....NOT!!!!
We have been travelling East instead of West since coming off the Haute Pyranees and we are 2hours and 15mins off course. Setting a new journey in the GPS we set off again without an angry word spoken but we did laugh a lot.
Yep we are heading for Lourds - definitely correct now - Escala, Semeac, Tarbes, Bruges through the very green and fertile Vallie de Ossau and we are at our destination?????? .....NOT!!!!!!! Resetting the GPS again we discover Camping le Rey is just 100 yards along the road as are Calum and Jane waiting patiently.
Many hours were spent under the stars that very late afternoon and evening talking, drinking and eating fabulous "Calum cooked" food, until well into the early hours when words were beginning to be heard to slur and eyes started drooping. It was such a great catchup and it is always the spontaneous ones that are the best.
Unfortunately the next morning it was raining which scuppered our cooked breakfast ideas but we were all ready to continue on our separate ways - Calum and Jane to continue their European journey and us to head for the Bilbao ferry which heralds the closeness of the ending of this particular journey for us in Molly B. Big hugs and kisses all round and fond adieus and see-you-soons (because we know we will) and we were on the road again, this time heading to Ondres, North of Biarritz for two nights to break the journey to Bilbao.
Nothing special in Ondres at all. A small market in the town centre on the Sunday but not a pretty or inviting town and sadly lacking in any cafes or restaurants. The camp was due to close on the day we were leaving, the wifi didn't work, the swimming pool and restaurant were closed and to be honest there was only ever 3 of us there at any one time, which causes me to question why, on both nights, someone drove in right beside us on night one and behind us on night two? this camp was medium size with lots of lovely places to park.
Anyway we were the last to leave on their closing day and as they thanked us for coming, profusely waved goodbye, they closed the gates on their season......right behind us!!!!!
It is Monday and Bilbao is calling - the ferry is booked so we head once again for Spain through the Basque country. Tarnes, Bayonne, Biarritz and just after Hendaye we cross back into Spain and our journey to the Port of Bilbao, where we will spend the night parked on the docks, suddenly becomes a nightmare with heavy trucks barrelling along narrow coastal roads - they wait or slow down for no-one, forcing others to continuously pull over and stop - but hey this is Spain and we are sure it can only get better. This is, in fact, correct because suddenly we are rural again but, just as suddenly, we are slap bang into big and busy again in Orio and following this yo-yo day we now driving along a very scenic coastline, reminicent of Kaikoura, and Zarautz, Zumia and Tolasa flash past. From Deba we drive through deep gorges and valleys following the river and then, quite suddenly, the scenery changes again at Bizkaia and the towns, Mallabia, Zaldibar Beriz and Iuretta are pure ugly with with concrete jungles of apartment blocks and one has the feeling we are in Russia not Spain. This is definitely not a pretty part of Spain by a long shot but now we are nearly at the Port and it is a breeze. You can check in the day before your ferry, between 4pm and 7pm, and stay in your lane on the dock overnight and hey...........we arrive dead on 4pm and passport and check-in is open and there is no one else in sight. This has got to be good don't you think?
Mmmmmm obviously others have done this before and know the system well for when we arrive at our lane people are well ensconsed with their chairs and tables out, cooking tea and basking in the last of the days sunshine. Looks funny and ridiculous all at the same time so we are happy to escape the cigarette smoke and loud Yorkshire accents and relax inside Molly B. We are happy to be here in one piece with all our mirrors and bells and whistles and the sea looks calm which, to me, is a big bonus.
Lulled to sleep by the continuous drone of generators we both slept quite well, surprisingly, and were one of the first motorhomes to be called on board but firstly we had to get through Passport Control which was not so easy. The nice gentleman in his booth took Garys passport, flicked through it, put it in his passport reader scanner, left his booth saying " Un momento" and was a full 5 minutes before he returned with a huge smile on is face saying "Stamp, Stamp" and gave the passport back grinning from ear to ear. Relieved we drove on towards the boat only to be faced with a huge, juddery ramp to climb. By this stage my heart was in my mouth but a quick climb, a quick swivel on the spot at the far end of the boat and then a drive back to the front we were high fiving it.......first on - first off!!!!!!
The cabins were great on board, we had a window this time, and the beds comfortable which was good because that was where I spent most of my time fighting nausea and a spinning head which no longer seemed connected to my body. This is a 24hour crossing through the Bay of Biscay and it was the swell that got me. The sea was calm - no white caps at all - but that swell!! Anyway it was a good crossing all in all for Gary and the next morning being called to our deck we were happy to be in a position where we would quickly off load and get on our way. This was not to be - first on, last off in our case because Gary had to reverse out of this little spot after everyone else had disembarked, apart from the truck in front of us. Then it was the Passport experience again with Gary only on the UK side - so many questions!!!! When did this all happen? Finally we were away and driving on the left hand side on Motorways to Chertsey where we planned to stay a few nights, store Molly B for a few nights whilst we did our trip to Santorini and then stay a few more nights on our return.
This arrangement did not quite work out as planned as they had no storage space and we could not leave it on site for 8 days whilst we were away because it was a flood prone site - the Thames runs through it!!!!!!!
Cutting a long story short - Neil to the rescue. He phoned his storage place and arranged that. He organised a lift to Gatwick airport for us from the storage place and tomorrow we head for Santorini and warm weather. Thanks Neil for getting us out of that mess - very much appreciated.
We are packed and all ready to fly tomorrow. xxx
Friday, 7 October 2016
ALQUEZAR
The beauty of this village for us was overwhelming and quite rightly deserves a whole post of it's own. This is the place we truly felt at home during our tour of Northern Spain.
Driving towards Alquezar, which is in the foothills of the Pyranees, and rounding one of Spain's notorious hair-pin bends, we sight this unbelievable hotch-potch of Spanish houses looking as though they are struggling to latch on to the side of the craggy mountainside. From its midst a majestic church/castle erupts baking under the azure, blue sky and hot Spanish sun. Everywhere is arid dry and tussocky........in this moment our hearts are captured. Alquezar is extremely isolated but is surrounded by amazing mountains and deep valleys where canyoning is very popular with young people.
We have headed South to find this place Gary has picked out from our ACSI book (he is such a whiz at finding these special places) travelling through Pont, where we buy bread and lettuce from the town square market (such are the necessities of life), across vast, arid, dusty plains, through countless haphazard vineyards (typically Spanish) past Termens and Llada and on to Benifar. We are now very rural and the vista is just incredible - small patches of agricultural land scratched into the dry earth supporting goodness only knows what and then a scrubby, small paddock supporting half a dozen cows clanging their bells as they forrage for a morsel of food and suddenly..........we are engulfed by ancient Olive trees!!!!!!! Driving through these we arrive at Huertade Vero and then Camping Alquezar - in the absolute middle of nowhere.
The campsite is great though and not at all busy so we are, once again, surprised when a couple from the Netherlands park beside us, with their door facing ours, and proceed to have several, quite loud disagreements. The weather is hot and sunny so windows and doors are wide open for all to hear. They were so close we could hear them chewing their cornflakes the next morning.
Escaping this trauma the next morning we walked into Alquezar. This, of course, was mainly uphill but along the roadside wild fennel and rosemary had just been cut so the aromatic smells were calming and encouraging and the views over the Sierra Park and Canyons of Guara breathtaking. .
Alquezar is a mediaeval village in Huesca, Aragon, Spain perched on top of a mountainous rock carved out by the river Vero which ultimately forms the deep canyons surrounding the town and in this area in general. The Moorish town itself is something else and eyes are wide open as you enter through the Gothic gate and step back in time. We spent a whole day wandering through discovering hidden gems like; an extremely small place for the townspeople to use for worship instead of having to climb the hill each time to the church (apparantly this used to be a cobblers shop); a cute artisan bakery that sold bread and cakes but also pulled beer; wherever we looked ancient history jumped out at us in the architecture, the cobbled streets and the old people. Alquezar itself was very steep in places but there was just so much to see. Walking to the very top to the Collegiate Church of Santa Maria, originally a castle built in the 8th Century which was consecrated by the Christians in 1099, the cobbles were so well worn they were shiny and slippery. Just imagine the thousands of people who have climbed to the church before us to repent their sins for this to have happened. The church was closed when we finally got to the top but it wasn't long before a Quasimodo sort of guy came and opened the door with an extremely large, rusty key. Have to say my imagination ran riot here too. The trip to the church was worth it all in the end though for its history, its frescos, its organ, its views, its battlements, its grandeur, its creaky wooden stairs and its bells whose mechanism was weighted by a very basic, huge rock??!!
Alquezar is a Unesco World Heritage site and as I say we loved it. It is a place to walk and a place to wander. Eagles breed on the mountain top and it is a joy to watch them soar in the sky looking for their prey.
Walking back down to the campsite we stop for a bite to eat at the Camp restaurant which is a set menu at a vastly different price to those in Alquesar. We possibly eat too much and undoubtedly drink too much but it seems a fitting end to a fabulous day. We must leave tomorrow and head back into France to meet with Calum and Jane but this place has a certain attraction and everyone should put it on their bucket list. We certainly wouldn't hesitate to return.
Driving towards Alquezar, which is in the foothills of the Pyranees, and rounding one of Spain's notorious hair-pin bends, we sight this unbelievable hotch-potch of Spanish houses looking as though they are struggling to latch on to the side of the craggy mountainside. From its midst a majestic church/castle erupts baking under the azure, blue sky and hot Spanish sun. Everywhere is arid dry and tussocky........in this moment our hearts are captured. Alquezar is extremely isolated but is surrounded by amazing mountains and deep valleys where canyoning is very popular with young people.
We have headed South to find this place Gary has picked out from our ACSI book (he is such a whiz at finding these special places) travelling through Pont, where we buy bread and lettuce from the town square market (such are the necessities of life), across vast, arid, dusty plains, through countless haphazard vineyards (typically Spanish) past Termens and Llada and on to Benifar. We are now very rural and the vista is just incredible - small patches of agricultural land scratched into the dry earth supporting goodness only knows what and then a scrubby, small paddock supporting half a dozen cows clanging their bells as they forrage for a morsel of food and suddenly..........we are engulfed by ancient Olive trees!!!!!!! Driving through these we arrive at Huertade Vero and then Camping Alquezar - in the absolute middle of nowhere.
The campsite is great though and not at all busy so we are, once again, surprised when a couple from the Netherlands park beside us, with their door facing ours, and proceed to have several, quite loud disagreements. The weather is hot and sunny so windows and doors are wide open for all to hear. They were so close we could hear them chewing their cornflakes the next morning.
Escaping this trauma the next morning we walked into Alquezar. This, of course, was mainly uphill but along the roadside wild fennel and rosemary had just been cut so the aromatic smells were calming and encouraging and the views over the Sierra Park and Canyons of Guara breathtaking. .
Alquezar is a mediaeval village in Huesca, Aragon, Spain perched on top of a mountainous rock carved out by the river Vero which ultimately forms the deep canyons surrounding the town and in this area in general. The Moorish town itself is something else and eyes are wide open as you enter through the Gothic gate and step back in time. We spent a whole day wandering through discovering hidden gems like; an extremely small place for the townspeople to use for worship instead of having to climb the hill each time to the church (apparantly this used to be a cobblers shop); a cute artisan bakery that sold bread and cakes but also pulled beer; wherever we looked ancient history jumped out at us in the architecture, the cobbled streets and the old people. Alquezar itself was very steep in places but there was just so much to see. Walking to the very top to the Collegiate Church of Santa Maria, originally a castle built in the 8th Century which was consecrated by the Christians in 1099, the cobbles were so well worn they were shiny and slippery. Just imagine the thousands of people who have climbed to the church before us to repent their sins for this to have happened. The church was closed when we finally got to the top but it wasn't long before a Quasimodo sort of guy came and opened the door with an extremely large, rusty key. Have to say my imagination ran riot here too. The trip to the church was worth it all in the end though for its history, its frescos, its organ, its views, its battlements, its grandeur, its creaky wooden stairs and its bells whose mechanism was weighted by a very basic, huge rock??!!
Alquezar is a Unesco World Heritage site and as I say we loved it. It is a place to walk and a place to wander. Eagles breed on the mountain top and it is a joy to watch them soar in the sky looking for their prey.
Walking back down to the campsite we stop for a bite to eat at the Camp restaurant which is a set menu at a vastly different price to those in Alquesar. We possibly eat too much and undoubtedly drink too much but it seems a fitting end to a fabulous day. We must leave tomorrow and head back into France to meet with Calum and Jane but this place has a certain attraction and everyone should put it on their bucket list. We certainly wouldn't hesitate to return.
Saturday, 1 October 2016
NORTHERN SPAIN PART ONE
Northern Spain how we love you!!!!! You are rugged, sunny, dry, barren but beautifully unspoiled. We travelled through the "real" Spain, relishing in it's beauty, each day feeling the warmth of the sun on our bodies. It was at this point that we came to the realisation we are "travelers" not "tourists". Roses helped us to think in this direction. To our mind Roses is for tourists and, although we enjoyed our 3 nights there with friends Roses was not for us. However the journey to Roses was and, as we continue to say, it is not always the place but often the journey that is inspirational. This was a 5hour drive over the Grande Central Massif mountain range which would eventually take us from France to Spain.
As we drive through the final valleys of France heading towards Barcelona the vineyards look unkempt and different. These are unsupported vines, very old, that are allowed to ramble along the ground in a higgledy piggeldy fashion giving rise to this feeling that they are not tended or looked after. It appears that most of these very old vines and this way of growing grapes is being replaced with the more modern method of posts and wires.
Passing Sete we drive onto a very flat and windy plain and Molly B is being buffeted all over the place as we cross huge viaducts. Hurrying past Beziers, Coursan, Narbonne and Sigean we are surprised as to just how many campers are around and secretly hope that most are heading home.
As we past Roquefort we come down off the high plain onto this amazingly straight old Roman road and, after making a few errors on the roads in Perpignan, we finally emerge out the other side and head along the Route de Vins via the Cote Vermille. Driving along the very narrow, twisty coastal road is spectacular. The sea is azure blue and the rocks gleaming white in the sunshine but it is also extremely scary and the French and Spanish are not the best of drivers. Port Vendres, Banyuls-sur-Mer (absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous) and Cerbera pass and suddenly we are in Spain. Surprisingly the fact we have crossed the border is very apparent. The road condition changes, there are no more stone bridges but metal barriers on the hair pin bends and the style of houses change too. Portbou, Colera and Llanca pass and finally we are at our destination Camping Salata, Roses.
There is a big sign at the entrance - SORRY WE ARE FULLY BOOKED, NO SPACES!!!!!!!
Undeterred we sneaked through the barrier as another van was let in and headed for reception. "We have just one pitch left - you can have that or nothing - but I am sorry it is expensive". Well of course it is because it is a lifesaver!!!!!
Driving to the site, seeing all the campervans and caravans parked cheek by jowl and with our hearts in our mouth we found our site. Now, remembering we are a 7metre long van, quite tall and reasonably wide we were faced with a narrow strip of grass with a huge willow tree slap in the middle of it. In spectacular style we did not panic nor get upset but Gary very efficiently reversed between the tree and next door neighbours awning whilst I quietly hacked at the willow tree with a pair of scissors so we could at least open the door. We found our friends in this vast sea of canvas and metal, Gillian and Alan, and had a lovely evening with them at a local restaurant but even they said they found our patch depressing. We spent 3 nights here, walked along the Roses sea front and explored the Old City but that was enough for us so we upped camp and headed for Olot where Gary had spied the most amazing campsite????..........AND IT WAS AMAZING TOO.
Camping Montagut, just outside of Olot in Montagut, was fabulous. We stayed for 5 nights and it was here we realised how old and beautiful northern Spain is. Not 400 meters from the camp was an ancient bridge, lightly resembling a portal from a science fiction movie, forming an almost perfect O as the bridge went over the top of the O and the water flowed through the O. This bridge, however, was built in c1400, was hand built and if you let your imagination run really riot you could imagine the donkeys loaded with supplies tracking a route over this cobbled bridge. It was absolutely mind blowing, out of this world and in the middle of nowhere........ where most great places and things seem to be.
The rest of our time in Montagut was spent swimming, reading, cleaning, washing, blogging, doing onward bookings and generally lazing around. The weather was great however something always tells you when it is time to move on and this time it was....ANTS!!!!!!!
Happy to leave to escape the ant invasion - they were marching up the water outlet into Molly B and invading the cupboards - we set of with the main intention of having a look around Andorra and settled on a campsite a few kilometres away but still in Spain. From Montagut, in the Lower Pyranees we go through our first tunnel - Tunel de Mont- Ros, Olot, La Canya, Hostelnou de Bianya then on through several more tunnels (if you remember I loathe tunnels) and into the Valley of Bianya. La Colonia Llaudet is the next village, St Joan de les Abadesses (a large town), Ripoll (where we stop and stock up on cheap Gin, Wine and food in that order) and then we emerge into open countryside and are travelling East to West through Northern Spain and the sights are incredible. Some would say the scenery was dry and boring but we actually felt so at home here. Les Lolsses and Matamala both have churches in the village and both are dedicated to Santa Maria. The hillsides are dotted with farm houses - we are at 930metres - and cows are now in abundance. It is quite difficult terrain for the farmers to scrub out a living here but every now and then a perfectly ploughed field can be seen surrounded by scrub and trees.
Although we are on a 2 lane road it is very narrow and twisty once again and suddenly we are going through thick forest.
Borreda is our next stop where we spy a 'restaurant' with a very uneven carpark and workmen frequenting so we decide to stop for a "menu del dia" costing 10Euro 50 cents. Once again this is totally out in the sticks! We walk in with all the workmen and are profusely welcomed by the locals and immediately we feel at home. In the middle of the room is a huge buffet with absolutely every possible food you could think of (it takes 5 mins to do a circuit and that is without collecting any food!). This is only the FIRST course and then you have a SECOND course of hot cooked meat/fish/rabbit/chicken and vegetables and bread. Bottled water, a bottle of red wine (not for us this lunchtime), a selection of about 7 deserts and coffee. How do they do it? So cheap and so tasty. The Spanish locals were happy to help us understand the process by hand gesticulations and snippets of English and it was really so much fun. We definitely left there replete and probably didn't eat for the next two days?!.
Continuing our journey we travel back into the mountains and at Vilada there is a huge aqua lake right at the very top and as we drop down again into the valley driving through La Valldan and Avia we are back in agricultural countryside, no cows now but crops and corn. Climbing up again we are now in different, very rocky territory and there is evidence of many slips. At Espunyola we turn right and climb again - this is a fascinating journey - and then zig zag down this one lane road. All the time I have my fingers crossed that nothing will meet us coming the other way. We are now travelling through the Valley of Death and I can truly understand why it was named such and then we are climbing again to Naves where there are cows and calves again and chicken or pig houses and the sun is shining and the whole "being here" thing is fantastic.
From Solsona we climb again and the panoramic views are just incredible and the sky so blue. Castella de la Ribera, Ogern and Oliana (with it's enormous dam) wizz past but we are so absorbed in the amazing rock formations we hardly notice the villages now.
We go through tunnel after tunnel now and I am almost a nervous wreck but we are getting close to Camping Gran Sol and finally we out of the rocky mountainous areas and back into normal bush clad countryside. Organya, El Pla de Sant Tirs (where of all things there is a go karting track), Adrall, Monteferrel and then the campsite on the absolute flat thank goodness.
From here we drove to Andorra which was disgustingly busy and congested, parked our camper for half an hour and drove back out again. To be honest it was a huge disappointment although Gary did get a new hoody and I did manage to get some coriander from a store on the way out. Deisel was 87cents a litre so we filled up which was a bonus but were stopped and totally searched on the way out. Under the beds, in the bathroom, in the wardrobe plus the outside lockers. Asking how much money we had with us I burst into nervous laughter and he asked me why I was laughing. Not a very pleasant experience and not sure what they were looking for but enough for us to say it is a place we would not return to in a hurry.
The positive side to our stay here though was meeting Alex and Catherine - a young British couple who have sold EVERYTHING, given away their jobs and are cycling Europe for as long as it takes for them to decide what their next move will be. Kindred spirits. We drank beer and wine and chatted late into the night and it was our pleasure to have met them. Our respect for them was huge!!!!!!
We all left the next morning - us to Alquezar and them to Pont. Passing them on the highway we were amazed how far they had gone - maybe it had something to do with Gary loading Catherine up with licorise allsorts before she left?????
As we drive through the final valleys of France heading towards Barcelona the vineyards look unkempt and different. These are unsupported vines, very old, that are allowed to ramble along the ground in a higgledy piggeldy fashion giving rise to this feeling that they are not tended or looked after. It appears that most of these very old vines and this way of growing grapes is being replaced with the more modern method of posts and wires.
Passing Sete we drive onto a very flat and windy plain and Molly B is being buffeted all over the place as we cross huge viaducts. Hurrying past Beziers, Coursan, Narbonne and Sigean we are surprised as to just how many campers are around and secretly hope that most are heading home.
As we past Roquefort we come down off the high plain onto this amazingly straight old Roman road and, after making a few errors on the roads in Perpignan, we finally emerge out the other side and head along the Route de Vins via the Cote Vermille. Driving along the very narrow, twisty coastal road is spectacular. The sea is azure blue and the rocks gleaming white in the sunshine but it is also extremely scary and the French and Spanish are not the best of drivers. Port Vendres, Banyuls-sur-Mer (absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous) and Cerbera pass and suddenly we are in Spain. Surprisingly the fact we have crossed the border is very apparent. The road condition changes, there are no more stone bridges but metal barriers on the hair pin bends and the style of houses change too. Portbou, Colera and Llanca pass and finally we are at our destination Camping Salata, Roses.
There is a big sign at the entrance - SORRY WE ARE FULLY BOOKED, NO SPACES!!!!!!!
Undeterred we sneaked through the barrier as another van was let in and headed for reception. "We have just one pitch left - you can have that or nothing - but I am sorry it is expensive". Well of course it is because it is a lifesaver!!!!!
Driving to the site, seeing all the campervans and caravans parked cheek by jowl and with our hearts in our mouth we found our site. Now, remembering we are a 7metre long van, quite tall and reasonably wide we were faced with a narrow strip of grass with a huge willow tree slap in the middle of it. In spectacular style we did not panic nor get upset but Gary very efficiently reversed between the tree and next door neighbours awning whilst I quietly hacked at the willow tree with a pair of scissors so we could at least open the door. We found our friends in this vast sea of canvas and metal, Gillian and Alan, and had a lovely evening with them at a local restaurant but even they said they found our patch depressing. We spent 3 nights here, walked along the Roses sea front and explored the Old City but that was enough for us so we upped camp and headed for Olot where Gary had spied the most amazing campsite????..........AND IT WAS AMAZING TOO.
Camping Montagut, just outside of Olot in Montagut, was fabulous. We stayed for 5 nights and it was here we realised how old and beautiful northern Spain is. Not 400 meters from the camp was an ancient bridge, lightly resembling a portal from a science fiction movie, forming an almost perfect O as the bridge went over the top of the O and the water flowed through the O. This bridge, however, was built in c1400, was hand built and if you let your imagination run really riot you could imagine the donkeys loaded with supplies tracking a route over this cobbled bridge. It was absolutely mind blowing, out of this world and in the middle of nowhere........ where most great places and things seem to be.
The rest of our time in Montagut was spent swimming, reading, cleaning, washing, blogging, doing onward bookings and generally lazing around. The weather was great however something always tells you when it is time to move on and this time it was....ANTS!!!!!!!
Happy to leave to escape the ant invasion - they were marching up the water outlet into Molly B and invading the cupboards - we set of with the main intention of having a look around Andorra and settled on a campsite a few kilometres away but still in Spain. From Montagut, in the Lower Pyranees we go through our first tunnel - Tunel de Mont- Ros, Olot, La Canya, Hostelnou de Bianya then on through several more tunnels (if you remember I loathe tunnels) and into the Valley of Bianya. La Colonia Llaudet is the next village, St Joan de les Abadesses (a large town), Ripoll (where we stop and stock up on cheap Gin, Wine and food in that order) and then we emerge into open countryside and are travelling East to West through Northern Spain and the sights are incredible. Some would say the scenery was dry and boring but we actually felt so at home here. Les Lolsses and Matamala both have churches in the village and both are dedicated to Santa Maria. The hillsides are dotted with farm houses - we are at 930metres - and cows are now in abundance. It is quite difficult terrain for the farmers to scrub out a living here but every now and then a perfectly ploughed field can be seen surrounded by scrub and trees.
Although we are on a 2 lane road it is very narrow and twisty once again and suddenly we are going through thick forest.
Borreda is our next stop where we spy a 'restaurant' with a very uneven carpark and workmen frequenting so we decide to stop for a "menu del dia" costing 10Euro 50 cents. Once again this is totally out in the sticks! We walk in with all the workmen and are profusely welcomed by the locals and immediately we feel at home. In the middle of the room is a huge buffet with absolutely every possible food you could think of (it takes 5 mins to do a circuit and that is without collecting any food!). This is only the FIRST course and then you have a SECOND course of hot cooked meat/fish/rabbit/chicken and vegetables and bread. Bottled water, a bottle of red wine (not for us this lunchtime), a selection of about 7 deserts and coffee. How do they do it? So cheap and so tasty. The Spanish locals were happy to help us understand the process by hand gesticulations and snippets of English and it was really so much fun. We definitely left there replete and probably didn't eat for the next two days?!.
Continuing our journey we travel back into the mountains and at Vilada there is a huge aqua lake right at the very top and as we drop down again into the valley driving through La Valldan and Avia we are back in agricultural countryside, no cows now but crops and corn. Climbing up again we are now in different, very rocky territory and there is evidence of many slips. At Espunyola we turn right and climb again - this is a fascinating journey - and then zig zag down this one lane road. All the time I have my fingers crossed that nothing will meet us coming the other way. We are now travelling through the Valley of Death and I can truly understand why it was named such and then we are climbing again to Naves where there are cows and calves again and chicken or pig houses and the sun is shining and the whole "being here" thing is fantastic.
From Solsona we climb again and the panoramic views are just incredible and the sky so blue. Castella de la Ribera, Ogern and Oliana (with it's enormous dam) wizz past but we are so absorbed in the amazing rock formations we hardly notice the villages now.
We go through tunnel after tunnel now and I am almost a nervous wreck but we are getting close to Camping Gran Sol and finally we out of the rocky mountainous areas and back into normal bush clad countryside. Organya, El Pla de Sant Tirs (where of all things there is a go karting track), Adrall, Monteferrel and then the campsite on the absolute flat thank goodness.
From here we drove to Andorra which was disgustingly busy and congested, parked our camper for half an hour and drove back out again. To be honest it was a huge disappointment although Gary did get a new hoody and I did manage to get some coriander from a store on the way out. Deisel was 87cents a litre so we filled up which was a bonus but were stopped and totally searched on the way out. Under the beds, in the bathroom, in the wardrobe plus the outside lockers. Asking how much money we had with us I burst into nervous laughter and he asked me why I was laughing. Not a very pleasant experience and not sure what they were looking for but enough for us to say it is a place we would not return to in a hurry.
The positive side to our stay here though was meeting Alex and Catherine - a young British couple who have sold EVERYTHING, given away their jobs and are cycling Europe for as long as it takes for them to decide what their next move will be. Kindred spirits. We drank beer and wine and chatted late into the night and it was our pleasure to have met them. Our respect for them was huge!!!!!!
We all left the next morning - us to Alquezar and them to Pont. Passing them on the highway we were amazed how far they had gone - maybe it had something to do with Gary loading Catherine up with licorise allsorts before she left?????
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)