Hi everyone. Not long to go now before we set off on our European and perhaps world adventure!
September 21, 2014
Well, that’s it then. We voted and the “No” side won by 55% to 45%. We’re staying a part of the UK and agreeing to let Westminster run things for us, yes, you know, that Tory Government that ignores everything which isn’t in the south-east of England. 2 million people up here voted “No” last Thursday and I still don’t know where they all came from! 2 million people who were simply too scared to give independence a try, who believed all the scaremongering and everything they heard and read in the media.
The BBC were utterly despicable in their biased coverage of the campaign but thanks to the wonderful power of social media the truth was spread throughout the land almost as quickly as the deceit was broadcast. Many eyes were opened, including my own. Scotland has been politicized by the referendum process and people have been encouraged to find out truths for themselves rather than rely on traditional media sources. So, enough of that for the moment, although we can’t wait for all the new powers we’ve been promised! (We won’t hold our breaths).
Mary and I are quite excited again at the prospect of driving back to Vilanova soon. Theoretically we should be leaving tomorrow so as to arrive by the 25 September, but that has had to be put back because of the launch of my memoir “Wee Georgie” which goes on sale in Waterstones of Dundee tomorrow morning. I was surprised but delighted that they accepted my book for sale in their store as all the advice I’d read suggested it was a waste of time trying to get them to accept the work of an independent author such as myself. However, the content and the very professional appearance of the printed book must have impressed their regional manager enough to persuade her to give the work a go, and I’m very grateful for the opportunity to have my book on display in the country’s leading bookstore.
I intend to see how the book sells for the next few days, maybe try to arrange a signing in the Dundee store, organize for someone to look after my online sales at the website and then we will probably head off to Spain. So we could be back in the caravan any time between 1 – 10 October, knowing that Mary’s sister Alison and her family are booked to stay at Vilanova Park for a week from the 13 October. Greg and Karen have just returned from another 10 days there as well and have reported temperatures above 30 degrees and the high season just coming to a close.
I’ll leave you with a photo of my books in Waterstones, but take a glance at the face on the shelf behind. Yes, it’s Scotland’s guru himself, Alex Salmond, the man who persuaded 45% of us to vote for self-determination.
September 10, 2014
Well there was me thinking I’d done Ben Nevis so could pretty much relax for the rest of the summer and get ready to drive back to Vilanova after the Referendum towards the end of September. But no! “Could everyone change bus, please?”
First of all, my wee sore knee on the third of August turned into a very big sore knee by the time we were flying off to visit Tom and Margaret in Petten, Holland on the nineteenth. The day before we left, I had to get the doctor to send me up to one of the hospitals for an X-ray and I’m now waiting for an MRI scan on the knee. I suspect plain, old osteoarthritis will be the diagnosis. I was warned often enough that I should stop playing football before it took its toll on my joints but I’m afraid it was just too much fun!
So this year’s Munroamers really did for me but we had a laugh all the same. The boys went back to their partners and their work and Mary, fresh back from a great weekend with her side of the family at the scout camp in Powburn, North England, helped me look after wee grandson Ben each Wednesday and Friday until our holiday. We have a grand time with the wee man but he doesn’t half run me ragged some days as you can see.
Scott meanwhile started his new life as a Primary Teacher student at Dundee University. Although this might come as a surprise to some, I can assure you he takes these studies very seriously and is genuinely hoping to qualify next summer knowing he has a 1-year totally guaranteed job somewhere. Is that something else we Scots do better than most? Scott also chose this moment to bid farewell to my beloved football team Kelso after 7 good years in the lower divisions and sign for Barnhill, a team newly-promoted to the Midlands’ Premier Division. He has made a good start, even scored 2 goals and has high hopes of keeping his place in their 1st XI.
The weather forecast for our week in the Netherlands made grim reading and unfortunately it was reasonably accurate, but with hosts like the irrepressible Tom and Margaret Bakker, it was always going to be a fantastic affair, and so it transpired. We cannot thank our friends enough for the terrific 7 days they gave us in their beautiful country and we learned so very much about the Dutch maritime engineering feats. We were left awe-struck at the enormity of the Deltaplan for south-west Holland designed to ensure that the devastating storm of 1953 is never repeated, the incredible 32 kilometre Afsluitsdijk between Noord-Holland and Friesland annexing the Zuiderzee, not to mention the amazing polders, the reclaimed land below sea-level.
Tom drove us miles and miles and miles around the whole of the Netherlands, ensuring we saw the best of his country, but he didn’t take us to the mountains as I had requested!! His wife Margaret (Greeta) was a domestic goddess in the kitchen as well and we ate and drank like royalty. This holiday was very different from others we have had but it surely must have been one of the most enjoyable ever. The only blot on the landscape was my silly knee which went from bad to worse, slowing me down when we went walking, making cars and stairs unbelievably difficult to manoeuvre into and out of. I even had to resort to using their stair-lift one evening when the pain was at its worst! I must admit that for a couple of days I felt seriously handicapped and began to wonder if I’d done myself a permanent injury. As luck would have it, it all began to ease over the last 2 days once I’d started popping Ibuprofen by the bottle and now I can walk again without limping.
One of the big surprises on our visit was to discover that there was place just a mile from Tom and Margaret’s house near some huge dunes called “Camperduin”. We Dundonians know all about this of course as we have Camperdown House in Camperdown Park, given as a reward to Admiral Duncan of Dundee who defeated the Dutch fleet at the battle of the same name in October 1797.
Three days after we got home, our gorgeous granddaughter Artemis celebrated her 1st birthday with her mummy and daddy, Eve and Gavin, as well as the rest of the 2 families. We had a lovely afternoon at their house in Arbroath on Saturday and it was good to see all the members of that next generation mingling on the lawn. It was also lovely to see Isobel, the boys’ mum, get to the event despite being in a wheelchair and I know she really enjoyed herself with her boys and grandchildren. God bless her.
So, was it time to actually relax? Frankly no, as now I had to get my finger out and try to get “Wee Georgie” published. Just before we left for Holland, I had received the first draft hard-copy of my memoir and what an exciting moment that was! That sent me on a mission round the town trying to persuade people to give it a try. Surprisingly it was the biggest of them all, Waterstones, who took a look and deemed it good enough to sell in their Dundee store. The book will probably launch on Monday 22 September, the same day as I have a full-page article in the local newspaper, the Courier. That publicity should get me off to a good start and, although the shop is only taking an initial 10 copies, I think they’ll have to ask for more quite quickly, given the amount of friends and family showing interest in it here in Dundee.
Mary has been a gem, helping me create a website for my books. It is called of course http://www.socratesthesnail.co.uk and has all the information about me, my books and my future projects. You can also order copies of “Wee Georgie” and “Socrates the Sprinting Snail of Sorrento” by using the Paypal button and I suggest you use this if you cannot physically get down to Waterstones bookstore on Commercial street in Dundee. Please ask if you would like your copy to be signed.
Well it looks like the Referendum on Independence for Scotland is going to be a very close-run affair on Thursday 18 September. For the first time, just yesterday, the polls put the “Yes” campaign ahead of the dissenters and that has caused a great deal of panic from those in power at Westminster. They’re all coming up to Scotland tomorrow to woo us with the promise of greater devolved powers for the Holyrood parliament but Alex Salmond believes their case has just collapsed and is in no mood to thank them for the scraps from their table. So, I still don’t know if we’ll be Scottish or British the next time I post on the blog!
Don’t worry, readers. We’ll still be us!
August 9, 2014
Well, that’s another box ticked on the Bucket List: I’ve conquered Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in the UK. This peak was selected by youngest son Scott as our target for the 2014 version of “The Munroamers”, an annual visit to the mountains of Scotland to conquer a selection of those over 3000 feet (914 metres). It’s a Boys Only affair, featuring myself and our 4 boys George junior, Gavin, Greg and Scott. This was our 10th year and included only 1 mountain on day 1 and our usual walk on the last day before driving home. The whole adventure had been reduced from the normal 3 days to 2 because of continuing commitments on the part of the boys – well they insist on having jobs and partners and children and stuff like that!
So on Friday 1 August at 5.30 in the morning, Scott, Greg and I were in the kitchen making egg and tuna mayo rolls and filling flasks with tea in preparation for our challenge far away above Fort William. An hour later, we had picked up George from his house and were cruising out to Perth in my Audi, the car filled with the chatter of…….. me! George was still waking up, Greg was texting as usual and Scott had quickly gone back to sleep as he’d only had 10 hours kip the night before, simply not enough he claimed for a growing 24 year-old!
Where was Gavin I hear you ask? Well, not to put too fine a point on it, dear second son had rather f*&!*ed up on the arrangements this time round and would have to miss out on Day 1. No, he hadn’t forgotten to book his day off from work, indeed he’d booked it well in advance as I always ask the boys to do. No, he’d simply suffered an aberration and convinced himself that we were to attempt Ben Nevis on the Saturday and not the Friday so had cancelled his Friday day off after booking it! When his error was pointed out to him by one of his brothers, he asked for the day off to be reinstated but his duties had been organized by then and he had to work at the High Court in Aberdeen. This is not typical of son Gavin and I can only assume that being a father for the past 12 months has reduced him to a quivering wreck like it did for me!
But the rest of us reached Fort William safe and sound, drove down to the visitors’ centre, used the facilities (well you have to before you go out on the mountain!) and set off on our adventure. When I say adventure, it wasn’t quite the most exciting mountain we’ve ever climbed and indeed it was really a bit boring walking up a broad path along with about a million other people in the pissing rain. Fortunately the social side of our Munro-bagging more than compensated for the poor weather and unattractive terrain. By switching between partners on the way up we were all able to catch up with each other just the way we had always planned it. The boys all took turns dropping back to talk to their rather slow, plodding Dad and I was up-to-date with all their news by the time we approached the snowfield just below the summit.
Four hours after setting out, we strolled over the last few metres of the small upper plateau and reached the trig point at the summit of Britain’s highest mountain. We were happy indeed and not really as completely exhausted as we have been in previous years at the top of other mountains like Ben More for instance. As we sheltered in a ruined cottage having our lunch and celebrating our success, the clouds began to rise above the summit and the sun began to peek through the slowly-disappearing mist, bringing even more smiles from the intrepid Burtons.
The long trek down to Fort William was wonderful. Our descent was in glorious sunshine warm enough to reduce us to tee shirts on top and necessitate the old man searching in his backpack for a hat to protect his balding head. Greg delighted us by attempting to slide down the snowfield on a plastic bag, George kept us chuckling with a theory about Ryanair raising even more money by asking for £20 or a full-force punch in the pus as you enter the aeroplane, while Scott seemed not to mind having spent so many hours unable to check himself in the mirror! Through the magic of technology poor Gavin was able to keep up with how we were doing and frequently texted to remind us that we were “lucky b****ards”. He did however manage to get away from court just after three when we were about halfway down and was speeding through the north of Scotland from East to West to join us at the hostel we were to be staying in.
Once settled in at our digs, I had a wee nap while the boys did their thing and when I awoke at about seven Gavin was there in the room. It was lovely to have all my boys around me again and I knew the evening would be brilliant which it was. We ate 200 metres along the road in a very nice hotel, drink was taken in abundance and we were all in bed asleep by 11.30 (along with 2 Frenchmen and 1 Frenchwoman!). 4 double bunks per room you see! When the alarms went off at eight the next morning only the Burtons remained, the three Gallic visitors having fled the nest. The boys immediately pointed accusing fingers in my direction, suggesting my snoring (I don’t snore!) and other night-time sounds had driven them from the room at the crack of dawn! How could they?
The boys went and bought breakfast stuff down at the local store and I prepared bacon and egg rolls for five, well four and a half actually as George is still a veggie! We bid farewell to the Chase the Goose hostel and drove back to the visitors’ centre then on to the car park at Glen Nevis from where we walked into the Glen and back, a round trip of 6 miles or so. My legs were a bit sore, especially my left knee which simply refused to bend properly, but I managed the experience ok and kept up with the boys most of the time.
At the far end of the glen we emerged out into a meadow below a spectacular waterfall and stopped at the interesting chain bridge, a place I had been last year when acting as guide for some German tourists. We played around at the bridge for half an hour but were eventually chased away by a plague of Highland midgies, returning to the car park seemingly unscathed. I say “seemingly” because the extraordinary damage these little horrors had done to my exposed lower limbs was to come to light back in Dundee. We said au revoir to each other amidst copious hugs in the car park, promised to attend Munroamers 2015 wherever it might be and then set off back to the East coast, Gavin with Greg, and George driving Scott and I back in the Audi.
Safely back home, Scott made me my tea before going out on the town with his mates. I slept all evening and all night, waking at 10.00 on Sunday morning and reaching the loo about 10 minutes later, having performed a decent impression of Sir Douglas Bader at his best! Once seated I looked down and noticed my legs. Oh my God, I’d been eaten alive!! That’s when the itching started. Five days later it has stopped and I now walk with only a slight limp. The left knee still hurts but otherwise I’m in one piece. The boys of course are all fully recovered.
Was it worth it? Definitely! Roll on the next Munroamers!
July 27, 2014
Hey, everybody, we’re still alive and kicking,: it’s just that we’ve been so busy since we came home that we literally haven’t had a minute to catch our breath. And what about the weather in Scotland? – scorchio, scorchio! Brilliant sunshine and temperatures in the mid-twenties day after day is not what we’d call typical Scottish weather, but that’s exactly how it’s been recently. Tee-shirts and even sandals without socks! Yes, Really! On a couple of days in the past two weeks it has actually been hotter in Dundee than in Barcelona! Now there’s a turn-up for the books!
Football. I’m no longer going to be a Barcelona fan. Reason? They’ve gone and bought Luis Suarez, thereby breaking the principles within which they compete. You can’t be “Mes que un Club” if you buy a nutcase guilty of biting opponents. It’s just not on and Barcelona I’m ashamed of you! But, congratulations to the Germans on a terrific set of matches in the World Cup Finals, culminating in a cracking victory over Holland for whom I feel really sorry after a third defeat in the Final in 40 years. One more rant – Thomas Muller, you’re a great player and Mary fancies you to bits but you must stop diving as simulation is ruining football and it makes you a cheat pure and simple.
Scotland is of course the focus of much attention just now as the Commonwealth Games are taking place in Glasgow and elsewhere, causing much excitement to the floods of visitors keen to watch a bit of high-class sporting competition. The coverage on TV is particularly comprehensive, giving you a wide variety of sports to watch at different times throughout the day. I’ve taken in some table-tennis, weightlifting, judo and even a couple of games of rugby 7s which I found surprisingly exciting for someone who considers the round ball to be the only serious game to play. There’s also a lot of swimming of course but I still have a problem really getting into that form of watery competition although I was enchanted with the Scottish lad who won the 200 metres breaststroke. He genuinely couldn’t believe he’d just won the gold medal! It would’ve brought tears to a glass eye!
Coming back for the summer means a chance to spend quality time with the grandchildren again and how they’ve progressed! Ben and Artemis are the joy of my life and I seem to have a permanent smile on my face when they’re around. Mary is the same, especially with Ben for whom she’s taken to buying all sorts of little presents including a sunhat, a “that’s not my tractor” book and a plastic dinosaur with moveable jaw! I suppose she’s compensating for getting totally carried away when we were out in Balgay Park with Ben flying his kites and allowing it to zoom up into the top branches of one of the tallest trees in the park where it currently remains a week later. My rescue attempt was none the cleverer as the small branch I was throwing up at the kite got stuck itself and when I threw a large stone at it instead, the branch dislodged itself and hit me on the head!
Scott got back from his European adventure last night. All we care about of course is that he is safe and well, but it was nice to hear that he had had a wonderful time going round Europe in the train, visiting all the places he wanted to visit before he settles down to life as a serious student in Primary education which starts in mid-August. We obviously haven’t heard all he has done (and probably won’t, thankfully!) but we’d been keeping up with the fun via the photos he kept putting up on Facebook. By now you all probably know that he does a Messi goal salute (back to camera, head tilted up, arms raised, forefingers pointing skywards) at all the famous landmarks he visits so, in addition to the superb poses he captured in Oz and New Zealand last year, he has added several more from great European cities and landmarks. Here’s a couple!
The last two weeks have been particularly manic as we have had our visitors over from Catalonia. Guillem, my pupil back in Vilanova I la Geltru, his 10 year-old girl cousin Gao, plus their grandparents Ramon and Rosa have been our guests for the last fortnight and what a brilliant time we’ve had. Of course, when folk come to stay, you find yourselves going to lots of local places you totally ignore otherwise so it was nice for Mary and I too to see what this part of Scotland has to offer. As well as all the best things to see in Dundee, we managed trips to Pitlochry, Edinburgh, St. Andrews and Stonehaven to see their Highland Games. Uncle Gerard chipped in with two Friday trips and lunch for the grandparents, while we managed to cope with three days looking after grandson Ben as well. Don’t ask me how we did it, but we did, and it was great fun. It also acted as an immersion course in Spanish for us and our ability in the Castilian tongue has really taken off.
We’ll be relaxing now for three or four weeks before flying off to Holland to spend a week with our good friends Tom and Margaret. It’ll be good seeing a place we know nothing about nor have seen before. When I say relax, I am of course forgetting next Friday when I take my four boys up Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in Great Britain. We try to do a mountain or two every first week in August but we can only manage two days this year as they are all extra busy. Just as it should be!
Gavin and Eve brought over my granddaughter Artemis yesterday and we all went to the wee zoo at Camperdown Park, just a couple of miles from our flat. It was the loveliest of days and, while both the otters and the meerkats tried their best, it was my wee darling who stole the show! I leave you with a photo of the bonniest bairn in creation.
June 28, 2014
We’re home! We got back yesterday evening, two days later than we had planned, but I’ll tell you about that later. The main thing is that the fates have kept us safe and well despite a two-and-a-half thousand mile trek from Vilanova I la Geltru in Catalonia to Dundee in north-east Scotland. It feels good but it feels very, very different from our other life in Spain although we’ve already spent a short time with Mary’s mum, uncle Gerard, Scott, Gavin, Eve and the truly gorgeous Artemis our granddaughter, and that has helped us settle. We’ll be seeing George, Fiona, Daniel and grandson Ben tomorrow. You don’t always realize how much you miss your family, do you? Absence definitely makes the heart grow fonder.
When I last posted 6 days ago, we were still on the ferry. That crossing proved a very relaxing period and set us up for our drive to Bath where we stayed the night with Kate and Dave, the couple from whom we bought the new caravan. Our hosts were brilliant to us, feeding us tons of barbecued food in the company of their daughter, daughter-in-law and grandchildren before walking us around their home town and sharing a pint with us in the town centre. Listen folks, if you ever get the opportunity, then head for Bath where you will marvel at the impressive architecture and beauty of this west country town. It is absolutely gorgeous and we enjoyed it under a blue sky and midsummer sun which battled not to go to bed until we’d seen all we wanted.
After a good night’s sleep and a cracking breakfast on Monday morning, we bid farewell to the Bunclark family, climbed out of the bowl which holds Bath at its bottom and headed for the Midlands. Predictions of horrendous traffic and hour after hour of sitting in the car park that the M6 can sometimes become proved wildly exaggerated and other than a slow 10 miles due to a minor accident on the inside lane we made steady progress up through Birmingham and Manchester before swinging off to the East just short of Wigan and arriving at our next stop in Leigh at about two o’clock.
We had been invited for a late lunch by a couple we had met at the campsite late last year. Terry and Elsie dished up a fantastic homemade lunch for us and we spent a lovely couple of hours catching up on what they’d been up to since they left Vilanova. When we went to leave, we discovered a slightly worrying clunking sound I had been aware of over the previous couple of hundred miles had definitely increased in volume and frequency, but as the car was running perfectly well and there were no warning lights on the dashboard I decided to carry on up the M6 to Mike and Het’s in Kendal.
The Audi saw us all the way there, although I was aware that every time I decelerated, the clunk came back with a vengeance. Nonetheless we got there, to our friends’ house just outside Kendal. Not that we could thank Victoria for any help in the matter! Our previously wonderful Satnav girl decided the journey had been all too easy so, five miles from our destination, she sent us up a country lane towards the village of Sedgwick. Oh, it led to the house ok, yes, spot on. It was the six-foot wide lane with ten foot hedgerows either side and the two bridges we had to drive under hoping the Magic Caravan would fit through that made this section of the trip “interesting”! When we arrived and told our hosts how we had come there, they refused to believe us.
My friend Mike found the clunk coming from the Audi quite alarming as I manoeuvred the caravan onto his sloping drive and we resolved to take it to the nearest Audi dealer the next day. Fortunately we have a healthy attitude to adversity these days, so we decide not to get stressed by our problem but settle down and enjoy being with our friends. As the weather continued to be quite splendid, that evening was spent outside on the patio at the back: good food, good drink, great company!
Typically, Mike and Het had planned to show us parts of the Lake District during our 2-night stay with them so we followed the plans but only after we visited the Audi dealer at Grange-on-the-Sands at the northern tip of Morecombe bay. As we arrived, a dark cloud momentarily blotted out the sun. When we went in the blackness overwhelmed me. A quick examination under the bonnet and a close listen to the clunk led to a provisional but spookily accurate diagnosis of a failed clutch flywheel and a warning not to drive the Audi any further. Then came that awful moment those who have had a car inspected will recognize perfectly. the guy comes over, way too cheery with a look of abject pity on his face, and delivers the bad news as gently as he can. The bill would be into 4 (four) figures. Ouch!
All things considered, there was absolutely nothing that can be done. So we left the Audi with them, knowing they couldn’t repair it until at least Thursday but consoled that our friends immediately offered to let us stay with them for as long as it would take. Thank you so much, Het and Mike! The four of us then took a corporate decision to forget about our car and just have a great time over the following 3 days. And boy, did we?!
Mike drove us straight up to the copper mines next to which was his family’s mountain refuge when he was young. To get there he had to engage off-road 4-wheel drive and bump us up a potted track with holes and rocks aplenty. It was our kind of country and we loved it, as we did when we went back to the village where we had had an excellent lunch in the Black Bull Inn (I think!) Back at their house it was a few drinks, plates of ham sandwiches and a further catch-up, although Het gave in to my petted lip and let me watch some footie. Wednesday was even better, with a drive down to Morecombe, up to Hawkshead and even a short crossing of the lake on the Windermere ferry. On the way home, we chanced on Carnworth station which I begged to visit when Het pointed out that the excellent film “Brief Encounter” had been shot there. Terribly, terribly nice!
Looking at things positively, we were with very good friends, a roof over our heads, food and drink on tap, Mike acting as a full-time chauffeur and in the heart of some of the best scenery in England. Not so bad, eh? I believe we actually forgot about the mechanical misfortune!
Thursday was just as good with visits to Sunderland Point and Heysham village; panoramas, estuaries, graves, churches, pubs, gardens, woods and even a rope swing! We had the lot! It was a source of great delight that Mike and Het appeared to be having just about as much fun as Mary and I were, despite them living in that area. Or if you weren’t, thanks for pretending you were, you guys! One thing about all of this visiting places seemed to be that all four of us were sleeping like logs at night and even Mary was having to give up and put her Kindle down after just a couple of hundred pages!
On Friday we were treated to a full English breakfast before Mike drove me back to Grange to pick up the car. I tried to pay the bill with twenty-pound note serviettes but they were having none of it and the debit card was duly bled dry. After stopping to fill up with diesel, I drove back to our hosts’ house where we hitched up the Magic Caravan and waved goodbye to our guardian angels, Mike and Het. We genuinely cannot thank you enough for your warm hospitality and we sincerely hope to be able to return the gesture in the near future.
Our journey back up to Dundee was pleasant and totally uneventful. We completed the trip from Vilanova to Dundee at 6 p.m. on Friday without a single drop of rain having fallen on the windshield of the Audi anywhere en route. No wonder my humour is dry! The sun shone on us from start to finish and the car never chugged once. Don’t forget it never actually broke down: I only took it to the garage as a precautionary measure.
So here we are, back home with Scott for the next three and a half months. Summer will be interesting, not least because it will finish with a vote for or against independence for Scotland on the historic 18 September. Guillem, his cousin and his grandparents are coming to stay a fortnight with us very soon, we hope to get to Tom and Margaret’s in Holland later on, I’m walking up Ben Nevis with the boys on the first of August and I might even have a week’s guiding work up the hills, having already turned down an offer to start this very day!
Adventure 2 is over, dear readers. I hope you enjoyed it!
June 22, 2014
I am writing this on the 8.30 ferry out of Caen heading for Portsmouth. We booked a cabin for the crossing and that’s where Lady Burton is just now, in the shower and probably doing girly stuff. I’m on deck 8, at a table having polished off a full English half an hour ago. The sun is pouring through the large windows, warming my skin and just making me feel good after a 6 a.m. start from our campsite in Saint Aubin sur Mer where we stayed last night.
OK, we admit it. We’ve broken the bed in the Magic Caravan! Unfortunately, the reason for its collapse is entirely due to the pull-out slats having broken free from their fabric links allowing them to move so that they fall off the supports either side. Boring, isn’t it? I’d love to tell you different but there you have it.
On Wednesday we left Pamplona and drove north to the corner, squeezed past the Pyrenees and entered France. A long boring drive across Les Landes took us past Bordeaux and then up the Gironde estuary to Saint Palais sur Mer, a place we’d been to twice before. On Thursday we visited the town, looking in on Erwan Ansquer’s family restaurant and giving in to a dip in the sea at 6 in the evening. It was certainly colder than the Med but we managed a 10 minute splash around before returning in time to watch the demise of England in the World Cup.
Tired out with the driving, we changed plans and drove only as far as Angers on Friday for a simple overnight stay. I did however remember to take a photo of the cheeky wee salad we had for tea.
The final drive through Northern France and right up to the English Channel was done yesterday. Our campsite was a huge Yelloh Village site with all mod cons but we left it behind in the early evening and headed for the beach front to have a look at one of the places the allies (mainly Canadians) crossed to on 6 June 1944. This walk proved really interesting but in addition we saw 2 separate concerts as it was the Longest Day and therefore La Fete de la Musique in France.
Back at the Magic Caravan, Mary busied herself while I watched Germany take on Ghana, a cracking good match by the way. And that was it. Early to bed by our standards, a fitful sleep and an early rise.
We are now approaching the Isle of Wight: it’s got white cliffs too. Next blog will be from Dundee …………… Maybe!
June 18, 2014
And then it was time to pack up and leave, only this time we had to undo the new caravan, load it up for storage, book and pay for it to be towed away, replace it with the Magic Caravan, live in it again for a couple of nights then tow it back to Scotland. Simple really! Just as we set to work on our tasks, God decreed that summer should arrive in Catalonia, meaning temperatures climbed steadily up beyond 30 Celsius, stayed above 20 all night long and chased us all into the shade for the greater part of the afternoon. We began to understand the concept of siesta.
To make things even more interesting, the mosquitos came back from their holidays and they were joined by a variety of crawling, flying, buzzing friends. One in particular interrupted me while I was typing the last blog post under the awning at about 8 one evening. I kept hearing little clicks like things were being moved and started to suspect a cheeky wee mouse might have checked in. But, turning towards the caravan door to alert Lady Burton as to my progress with the blog, there on the blue carpet was an unexpected visitor, one I had not seen before and one whose presence alarmed me somewhat.
It was like that evening in Waterside, our old house in Monifieth, about 5 years ago, when I went out to get something from the boot of the car parked in the drive and there, 2 metres from the rear end of our Corsa, stood an adult fox. Staring at me! My brain immediately posed the question: is it scared of me or am I supposed to be scared of it? I didn’t know the answer at the time so walked slowly backwards into the porch of the house, called Mary and Scott to come see and watched the beast jog casually round our cul-de-sac before heading back past the house and down into the 7 arches area of the Dighty burn.
So, I bent to observe this new “visitor” at closer quarters and saw that it was a huge beetle about 3 centimetres long, blackish-brown with a set of tusks/antlers/bazookas on its head. Mary fetched the iPad, we captured it for posterity and then it crawled below the chest of drawers and we went back to reading (Mary) and writing (George). A paragraph or so later, there it was again right in the middle of the blue carpet so I bent down to have a second look. That’s when it let me know it could fly! Vertical take-off, armour-covered wings, loud buzz, the works! I could fly too……. and did, up the step and into the caravan, knocking Mary out of the way and closing the door behind me rather niftily.
Are you with us here? Prisoners in our own caravan for the first time since 2 nasty geese sent us scurrying for cover in Neckargemund (see “Goose on the Loose!” Day 48 of the adventure). Eventually of course I had to go back out, use the upside down container with something slid underneath method and release our “friend” to the wide-open expanses of Vilanova Park. Mary was quick to consult Mr. Google who suggested our visitor had been a rhinoceros beetle whose appearance is quite alarming but whose demeanour is fairly innocent and highly unlikely to pose any form of threat to us. Well, how were we to know?
It just so happened that one of our favourite places, La Cantera (the Biker Bar), decided to celebrate being open for 15 years and we went up to see what was happening last Sunday. We’re glad we did because not only were the bikers out in force with all their wonderful machines, but there was live music and dancers recreating 50s USA. We sat with two friends from the campsite, Chris and Lise, and were well entertained for an hour or so, even joining in at the end. Typical!
So, on we went with the packing. The awning on the Bailey was taken down, washed and folded away over 2 very warm days, the carpets and groundsheets were taken up and gradually all the trappings of our exterior life outside and under the awning were carefully fitted into the big caravan. Our possessions were divided between the 2 caravans according to our needs, I went up and paid for the storage and signed a contract with the owner of the farm and I arranged for the Vilanova Park guys to come on Friday 13 to tow it up the road. After a Spanish blip or two (“Manana” “Did we agree Friday?” “Sometime this day…. I think”) the new caravan was towed away after I had positioned it perfectly for pick up, using the astonishingly brilliant motor-mover which allows you to move a ton and a bit of caravan to the precise inch with a remote control! Personally I think it’s a form of witchcraft!
We then manhandled the Magic Caravan back onto the pitch where we set it up again just like the pre-Easter days, except no awning as we were to be leaving in 3 days. Although things were tight inside and we had a short issue regarding bumping into each other a lot (I think Mary was doing it deliberately), we soon reverted to our previous existence and there was no harm done at all. By now we had both finished our employment and were free to enjoy the last few days in Vilanova. Swimming became a daily treat – or maybe it could have been a necessity – as the temperatures continued unrelentingly, chasing us down to the beach or into the upstairs pool on the campsite. You could now walk almost straight into the Med with hardly an Oh! moment and you were dry 5 minutes after coming out.
On Friday we celebrated with 6 other Dutch football fans as the “Oranje” stuck 5 past the bewildered world champions. And didn’t Spain go quiet the following day! All of a sudden the people we know who live here became Catalans again and not Spanish! Strangely enough we got to know quite a few new folk during the last 2 weeks as the Irish came to town, bringing with them their own inimitable brand of opinion and humour. Sure it’s a lovely place, the Spain!
Saturday saw us take the Scousers, Rob and Carol, to the airport for their flight back to Liverpool for the summer, and then we spent a couple of hours in town buying souvenirs and things for the grandchildren before I insisted we go home to check everything was in working order for watching the England-Italy match at midnight that night.
We decided to go out with a bang so spent the afternoon and early evening of Sunday, our final day, with another Dutch couple, Rob and Vera, at the Gay Pride parade in Sitges. Now let me tell you, this is something different! It was eye-popping to see so many gay people openly parading up and down the promenade, quite obviously proud to be what they are. It was brilliant and a great advert for “live and let live” philosophy. We four of course ended up having our photos taken with some of the more “interesting” people on show but in many cases we were not quite sure if we were embracing a man or a woman! We went into the bar on the way back to the caravan to say cheerio to the members of staff we have gotten to know so well while we’ve been here, Pili, Naty, Nelly and Joel.
And on Monday we hitched up and left after saying goodbye to a veritable throng of well-wishers mainly Dutch. Walter came round to check I was doing everything correctly and give me some last minute advice like the old sage he thinks he is. He ended up insisting I detach the battery on the new caravan before they towed it away. I must admit he’s a bit of a father figure for me out here and I know if I need to learn how to do something then it’s Walter I will consult. Joke his wife had promised me a game of golf before I left but unfortunately I was so busy that we simply couldn’t fit it in. We’ll try again in the autumn.
Just before ten o’clock we hugged, kissed, waved and drove away leaving them to enjoy the sunshine in peace. Our journey north through Catalonia and Aragon was excellent, we entered Navarre around four o’clock and we were parked up on the campsite in Pamplona by five. Food then football then a glass of wine then 9 hours in the land of Nod. We were both on great form this morning and decided to drive into town to see the place made famous throughout the world by its amazingly brave or reckless bull-runners. As is often the case, we expected little and got a lot! Pamplona is pretty, spacious, well laid out, friendly and welcoming and has in its cathedral as good an exhibition on the development of Western thinking as you will find anywhere.
Unfortunately it’s past my bedtime so I’ll finish this post………. in a totally different country! Yes, we leave for St. Palais-sur-mer tomorrow morning, a 250 mile journey from Pamplona up to the top right-hand corner of Spain, sneaking into France, up to, around and beyond Bordeaux then a left back towards the Atlantic coast, Royan and finally our destination.
Nope! I woke up at 6.30, couldn’t get back to sleep (it was too sunny!) so decided to insert the photos now and post this just before we leave for France. I leave you with 2 snaps from yesterday.