More of the big trip...

A big day in the citroen through endless, endless olive groves punctuated by large bull and 'Flamingo' (Flamenco) dance silhouettes - destination Cadiz, perhaps the most ancient port in Europe. We ended up in a nice little apartment (apart from the rather noisy 3am bottle recycling truck just outside) in Puerta de Santa Maria just across the harbour. Obviously heavily touristed in Summer there were lots of bars for us and carnival rides for the kids. We took the ferry to Cadiz the next morning and hopped on an open topped bus. Nice ride but we were a little disappointed, it was all a bit run down. The beaches looked nice though, I imagine that they are a bit like Bondi during the summer. We strolled through the centre and incredibly seemed to find all the streets with shoe stores...maybe they all did - anyway the Spaniards certainly like their shoes (and boots too). They do a lot of walking. Off to Ronda on the road less travelled. The windy Sierra de Grazalema roads took us through grizzled cork forests to the scenic village of Grazalema.

A quick luncheon stop and we were off to Ronda. I had been looking foward to getting here for some time and was not disappointed by our inaugural glimpse...

Spectacularly perched on a 100m high ridge Ronda overlooks a tapesty of farming land stretching to the mountains. As well it is split by a deep gorge dividing the new town from the old. Our hotel ended up being at the bottom of the gorge (a steep walk up), but this was well and truly made up by the place itself. Wow! the best hotel we have ever stayed in. It was pure art deco with a tropical garden, huge aquarium and spectacularly sited garden terrace - and to Pa's delight the drinks were free all day! Our two storey room was littered with 'objects de arte' as was the entire hotel. We even got a park right outside.


The 'new' bridge. Rumour has it that the architect fell to his death whilst trying to scribe his name on the side after it was completed.

Angus kicking back with a David Attenborough DVD in our room in Ronda

After Ronda we trundled back home to Orgiva. All in all it was a great adventure and gave Kay and Neil a taste of Spain to remember.

Mama and Pa Pether arrive...

Hola, buenas dias!
Neil and Kay arrived late in the evening from Barcelona to a very excited crowd...me! Kay, complete with broken shoulder courtesy of a stair dive before departure, shed a tear or two, moreso from the culmination of the long journey than my ugly mug. It was a long anticipated arrival.

The agenda was more or less set, we had to get to Madrid so we planned a week long tour of south west Spain. A people mover was needed so we hired a 7 seater citroen so I could be chauffeur and the others could enjoy the scenery. Funnily enough there was a constant battle on who should occupy the 'dickie' seat in the back row. So on with Supertramps greatest hits (for the 568th time) and off we went to strains of 'Take the Long Way Home' - live extended version.We ended up having to coerce Kay into going shopping....NOT. The plethora of shoe shops proved to be heaven to 'Our Emelda'. Her daughter however tried hard to find a store that even stocked her size 41 clodhoppers. Neil, me and the boys spent some time together on the pavement outside admiring the old buildings and miscellaneous scenery. Neil seemed more than happy with that. He and I also managed to escape for a whirlwind tour of the Prado while the others went to the park. Amber and I had a quick merengue in the park but were rudely pushed aside by this pair of amateurs. Once we had done the visa thing we left for our tour. First stop historic Toledeo. A very impressive skyline and jam packed with all sorts of medieval edifices. Thankfully slippery slides and swings were invented earlier than I had thought. A very nice day and great to show Kay and Neil a bone fide cobbled historic city. It was. late in the day when we took off so there was a change of plan.
We got back on the road a bit tired and decided to go to Almagro once again. I knew that Neil would enjoy a beer or thirty in the plaza major and Kay would love the Hospedarje that was born from an old nunnery. Apparently this little town was originally colonised by a number of merchant bankers and they left their mark with the architecturally stunning plaza. Making too much money back then too it seems...

Been talking to Auntie Jack Kay?

A few beers with the family in Almagro! A somewhat sore head the next day from memory.

Return to Avenida de Poblados...

Just a quick update on the quest for residency cards. Kay and Neil had arrived and straightaway we had to leave for Madrid to pursue the next phase of the card saga.

So here goes...

1. We arrived at Av. De Poblados at 8am and the line was already 350m long. Rather charming really as people camp out overnight so the line treks beside piles of rubbish and stale urine.

2. Between getting the a bank to validate that we could afford the E5.90 fee and trying to find a working photocopier we tried to keep the kids entertained and out of the dank corners.

3. Nearing the head of the line at 1.30pm a small scuffle broke out due to a line infringment. The best entertainment for hours!

4. At 1.45pm (the line closes for 3 hrs at 2pm) we thought all was lost. The guard may have had some pity and let us through with the last batch -Ambers pleading face may have helped. So Amber and Archie went through, the gate almost closed as Angus and I just snuck through. I was the last before lunch. The groans eminated behind me as the hapless people leaned over the rail in despair. Three more hours in the hot sun and 'aroma de wee'.

5. All went well until Archie had to be fingerprinted. He lost the plot. If he ever becomes an international assassin all they have is a long black smear.

6. Left my backpack in the cab on the way home! (with Ambers only warm jacket and the kids favourite things in it - Mr Popular)

7. We have to come BACK in 40 days (thankfully the short queue) to collect our cards. Viva Madrid!

8. Drank a lot with Pa to dull the pain.

As a footnote, this is a trivialisation of a long and deliberately difficult procedure which for us is reletively immaterial and unimportant. It did, however, evoke our compassion for people whos´ lives and livelihoods depend on finding a new country to live in.

Ahhh........Sol pops over

We had almost settled into our new house when our first visitors arrived. The J's had decided to whip in for a 2 week visit with their new baby, Jett and of course Jemmi. I must say at the outset I was impressed with their indomitability...50 hours in a plane for two weeks holiday takes a certain something. It was great to see them.

So we planned a few daytrips and a few roof terrace long lunches so they could immerse themselves in our little town. Jon and Jenny were very keen to try some of the local fare, in particular the Alpujurras Jamon, famous throughout Spain. Legs of pork are salted and left to cure in the dry mountain air. The nice thing is that the leg (complete with hoof) just hangs off a hook in the kitchen...visiting vegetarians need to give advance warning.

So we got down to the Med, had the worst paella in history (and a good one too), swam, visited the mountain villages and the Alhambra, ate, and drank a few cervercas....and I don't think that I heard Jett cry in anger once! The house was set off for a good start!

The Alhambra
















Young Jett (setter) Too cool.





Hasta luego Amigo!

Searching for Home

It wasn't as easy as we had thought searching for a home. We left Canberra with a vision of something, probably a little utopian, and finding that place wasn't easy - impossible actually. It just didn't exist. We found this out after a lot of driving, searching and 'not quite rights' until we realised that it really didn't matter that much. It was up to us to make a home.

Ideal criteria;

1. Not too cold, not too wet

2. A small town or rural setting near a small town which is not too far away from a big town

3. Near snow covered mountains

4. Near the coast

5. Perfect white houses with bouganvillea cascading from balconies and roof gardens

6. Spotless town with a nice array of shops and 'artesiana'

7. Castillian spanish so we have some chance of communicating

8. Village fountain must sprout wine

9. Muy tranquillo (peaceful)

yeaaaaah right! But you wouldn't believe that all this, yes EVEN number 8, is within 30 minutes of where we are now!

So we settled on Orgiva, completely by accident. We booked a week in a caravan park bungalow just out of town (because it had an internet connection) and drove about. At first we were not really fussed, it wasn't quite perfect....a slightly grubby town with weird traffic lights. One day we just looked at each other, shrugged and decided that 'hey its not so bad here'.

Anyway the place grows on you, there is a definate hippie element - a hint of Mullumbimby. Lots of people escaping real lives which I guess is a bit like us. It is nice and slow, no one seems in a hurry. We left bag in the supermarket and a week later they gave it back when Amber walked in. That's nice.

Our House...

Us...

It was by sheer accident that we ended up in the town from which Chris Stewart described his life in the Alpujarras in 'Driving Over Lemons', a book fortuitously lent to me by my good mate Kate 'Kluggo' Coolston while we were planning the trip. Life has changed here a bit since then but we still have the laden donkeys clip clopping through the town, patatas pobres and oodles of lemons.




Our google maps/earth address is 36.897623,-3.412049 if you want to see exactly where we are.

Madrid...and the Tarjeta de Residencia

IF you are ever in Spain make sure you visit these people...

We had been putting off getting our residency cards because our 6th sense knew that it was going to be a nightmare...and, of course, it was. We were saved only by our friends Jennifer and Agustin who so kindly helped us and had us to stay. Five children under 7 and 4 adults was certainly very brave! - we thank them all...including Heath, Brigit and Ibon who provided much entertainment for Angus and Archie.

Anyway the story goes like this...

Day One. Arrive in taxi at 8am, see a queue, a very long queue. Taxi stops and driver says this is the place. Line up for 4.5 hours and freeze (luckily there was a playground next to the queue)

..."sorry wrong office...this is only for Bulgarians and Romanians today" (after having looked at our documents 4.5 hours before and saying we were in the right place!).

Get told to go to office on the other side of town (thanks for updating the internet you b*st*rds).

Get out of taxi and see a line longer than the first one. Amber talks us into the shorter queue.

Get told to go as office is shutting down for lunch (2 hours) but we stay and resist. By now it was blazing hot and there was one heavily fought for umbrella. Finally get in 2 hours later and find we are at the wrong office again and we need to go somewhere else (all in very rapid spanish). Amber cries (on cue) and the lady looks at two very tired boys, feels sorry for us and arranges an appointment...in 5 DAYS time...aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh.

Thankfully this was the worst day and Jen and Agustin had us for dinner and filled us with food and wine - and things didnt seem as bad.

In the meantime I went for a great walk in the mountains near Madrid with Agustin and his friends. The next day my legs protested strongly about assuming the vertical position...ouch. We also had a great day at a medieval festival in a nearby pueblo. Mabye a sword will help get the residency card...I wonder.....

Then a nice couple of days in Segovia (apart from our car being towed out of town!)

I looked after the boys while Amber faced the police! Paper, scissors, rock and I won!

Then to the stunning medieval walled city of Ainsa and back to Madrid for the next round.

5 Days later... Up early, couldn't find my wallet. Raining, late for taxi. Got into town and guess what...taxi driver drops us off at the end of another queue. Anyway Amber took the boys over the road to a cafe and I waited in the rain for the office to open. One and a half hours later we had our documentation approved and were told that would have to come back to Madrid in 3 months to get the residency cards and under no circumstances were to leave the country. So Portugal -nnnngg Morocco -nnnngg England - nnnngg - (nnnngg is the sound of the buzzer when someone gets a question wrong on Sale of the Century) - but we were here for the duration which was good! ...very good.

So we thought we should get on the road and set about finding our new home! Vamos!

Picos de Europa...wow

We loved the Picos. It is a compact mountain range springing up 2500m just in from the coast at San Vicente. Absolutely spectacular, it has the feel of a much larger mountain range, starkly beautiful almost lunaresque towers overlooking lush green valleys underneath.

The highlight was a trip up the Fuente De teleferique which is a 753 metre high single span ride up the mountain. Archie was terribly excited about going up, we could hardly contain him...and it looks a loooooooong way down through the glass panels (which were left slighly smeared with dribble and nasal matter)

The Cares canyon which we walked along is 1.5km deep with the walking path narrow and perched high up the cliff. The boys stayed on the cliff side held by our white knuckle hands. The rewards were rich, an icecream from the blue menu to celibrate a 3km walk. Bribery gets us everywhere!

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Specialities of the area included piquant blue cheeses, such as Queso de Cabrales, traditionally matured in caves and guaranteed to put a fast end to a hot date..."have you changed your socks in the last week?" she cried!. The ubiquitous fruit flavoured rocket fuel distilled here may have helped with a comeback. Salut!

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It was also nice to see green for a change...hope there has been some rain at home

Oops Wrong Oyster...

San Vicente de Baroquera was our next destination so we could meet up with the Giffins before they left. In advance I would like to apologise unreservedly for breaking the handle off their campervan after having being poured a ridiculously strong bourbon and coke.

The north coast was more populated than we had imagined though had the look of Ireland about it. Green rolling hills littered with old stone farmhouses, cows with bells and of course the ubiquitous blue icecream menu which was always a popular "I spy" item.

We holed up in a bungalow next to the beach. Nice white sand and surf but it was pretty chilly in the water, even for a south coaster. A nice relaxing place though.

On an expedition to the old town bridge Scotty returned with the news that there were oysters and mussels in their thousands and they were accessable at low tide. So armed with a bucket and blunt rocks we headed across the mudflats (with the kids in clean clothes of course) to do some hunter gathering and returned muddy but proud as punch with the harvest.

The oysters were big and creamy, much like a large Sydney rock. I think we said at the time "best ever".

The groans and pale faces eminating from the handleless campervan the next morning told the story. Just around the bend of the river was Spains largest plutonium plant and the oysters were mutants...or so we thought between stomach cramps and delerium. Luckily I only ate 4, Scotts mate ate 20 or more and then drove off to France.

Hope he's still alive...

Off to the Hills...

"las carreteras son poco estrechos"

the last words we heard before we headed into the Pyrenees. Not until we met a truck coming round a hairpin on its own side of the road, which was our side too did we look up "estrecha"... narrow! The scenery was breathtaking however with small Romanesque villages sitting on impossibly steep footings, each village crowned with a church bell tower.

The most memorable nights were spent in Ainsa, an almost perfect medieval village, in probably the oldest building we have ever slept in. The view from the terrace wasnt too shabby either. Managed our first "menu del dia" without a poo, vomit, airborne egg or maniacal screaming (just kidding) , the kids did really well sitting down for the whole meal. Amber and I got to enjoy a nasty red wine (we were still very green in our choices and have since had some beautys) and three courses overlooking a Pyrenean bluff of about 2500m.

Ainsa at night was a thing of beauty...especially as we timed our visit with the festiva. Everyone was out dancing and the kids spun endlessly on merry go rounds...

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We also did a 3km walk along a section of the G11 cross Pyrenees track up to a waterfall. Angus was keen to continue up with crampons and ice axe so getting him down was actually more difficult than up. Archie climbed uphill for 1 1/2 kilometres then his little legs packed it in...it was a valiant effort for a two year old. The highlight in the Pyrenees was just driving and absorbing the grandeur of the landscape as you can see.

and more...

The Costa Brava

We rented a house from Pam and Brian, an English couple who had got stuck in a place called L'Estartit. I think the abundant vegetation of Brians verandah may have contributed to their 'stuckness'. Impressive to this agricultural scientist anyway. The place itself was a resort town, busy in Summer and virtually deserted in Winter. We were there somewhere in between.

I guess we are a little spoilt with beaches, and I mean no offense to any Spaniards, but there were people lying on potting mix! Every little gust of wind and things looked like a car on a country road. Anyway we had a few swims in the cool water but decided that perhaps visiting villages may be a better thing to do. Pam convinced us to go and have a look at some of the smaller beaches cut into the steep cliffs along the coast just north and we were rewarded with a beautiful little black sand (pebble) beach with a nice little bar on it (along with some micro swimwear)
The next day we decided to visit some of the medieval villages perched on the surrounding hilltops. Now we definately don't have this in Australia! Beautifully conserved and built to last - not much fibro or gyprock to be seen at all. The boys revelled in the sense of history - even if it was a comparison to 'Bob the Builders one hour medieval DVD' which is a good show...for the first twenty times or so anyway. If we were only to know how many medieval villages we were going to see...

Cadaques...the most eastern village in Spain. France is just over the hill. So is the World Cup!

As a little footnote we also found a winery that sold a fair drop for 1 euro a litre...tasted pretty good once you got to the second litre.

Barcelona Ho

Dont mention ze flight...

To juxtapose Bankok and Barceona - well see for yourselves. This is from outside our hotel in Bangkok

and this outside the hotel in Barcelona...

Barcelona is a beautiful city, in the same league as Paris I think. Full of narrow alleys, fascinating shops and flowers overflowing from wrought iron balconies into the street.

Bars every 20 metres selling coffee, beer, wine and mouthwatering tapas...and us with 2 boys that dont sit for long at all. So we walked past them all...ouch. Back to zoo's and beaches (a little disappointing on this front) and looking at ice cream menus, which has become Angus' favourite occupation. We did however manage to get out into the paseo each evening when all of Barcleona emerges into the streets - couples young and old holding hands and the single and very fashion conscious parading their wares....and all along the street table full of people enjoying their pre dinner drinks and tapas. For those not in the know dinner here doesn't start until 9 or 10pm. Anyway it is people watching at its best.

Oh and I should mention that my first drive of our manual RHD car on the narrow roads at Barcelona peak hour wasn't me at my calmest! What a nightmare.