Iberia and Morocco Trip - Part 2
Day 15 - Tuesday – 11th December – Beatrice – Seville
We woke up late to gloomy clouds casting a grey cold shadow onto this tension filled day. Today would be decided if Mummy needs an operation on her wrist or not.
After breakfast we walked the very short distance to the San Augustin Hospital. We were greeted by two friendly receptionists, who, we found out very quickly, spoke not a word of English. We tried communicating in French and re-enactments of scenes without success. They called an English speaking admin lady called Imma, who listened to our problem and helped us set an appointment with the best traumatologist of the hospital. Our appointment was at 3 and so we had quite a lot of time to kill but not enough time to actually go into Seville for sightseeing. We therefore decided to buy a small folder for all the documents and X-rays we had been given and took a stroll to Carrefour.
Meanwhile Daddy had gone to a bicycle repair shop for Mummy’s front tyre and Alex stayed in the camp to wash the clothes. A strong déja vu when compared to the proceedings a week ago.
This time though the dryer seemed to malfunction and kept swallowing money without actually working. We called the man in charge who assured us that the dryer just needed time to cool down and that we should try again later. Furthermore he kindly gave back our swallowed coupons.
Soon 3pm approached and Mummy and I set off once again to the San Augustin hospital. We were half an hour early, but were nevertheless greeted by Imma. She walked us through the main hospital building outside the doors over a street and around another block until we reached the practices. How on earth is one to find this by oneself?
We pulled a waiting ticket to see the receptionist, then were given a further waiting ticket for the consulting traumatologist. Imma had left us at this point and we missed her reassuring presence tremendously. Especially when it became clear that the doctor also spoke no English at all. We shoved all our documents to him and through the images and his communication with us in very broken French he pieced together what had happened. He sent us to get an X-ray done. So back we went- around the block, over the street and through the hospital. We by chance went into the employees lift but undoubtedly came out in the X-ray area. We stood in front of the receptionist desk and patiently waited for them to stop their conversation and assist us. No such luck. As we stood there like idiots we were approached by a very kind Irish lady, who explained that we needed to pull a ticket to then be called to speak to the receptionists. We waited our turn and were then given another ticket to wait to go to the X-ray. We chatted to the kind Irish lady and soon enough Mummy was called up. We trekked back to the consultant rooms only to be sent back to retrieve the X-ray CD as the system was down. I ran back while Mummy waited outside the office. With the CD in hand we went back in. Once again we had to return back to the X-ray department because apparently it had not been done correctly.
We now retraced our steps for the 3rd time and got the desired X-ray. With the CD we went to the traumatologist who declared that an operation would not be needed- hurray! Yet to be safe than sorry he wanted to completely immobilise Mummy‘s wrist. This consisted out of a lot of waiting and a whole lot more plaster. Mummy’s arm now weighs about 5kg on its own. Slightly disgruntled by the outcome and the day we walked back to the camp at around 6:30pm!
Yet following the hard day were a few lovely things that cheered us up; the dryer had been fixed and we had clean clothes for the next week, Alex was happy as he had gone for a 15km run (and got lost- which surprisingly is seen as a good thing) and the cherry on the cake was the announcement of our new family member Arthur Thomas McRoberts.
I made an Indonesian style meal with vegetables and little meatballs cooked in broth. It seemed to go down well enough and after a frustrating couple of minutes trying to connect to the internet I went to bed with my family closely following suit.
Day 16 - Wednesday – 12th December – Chris – Seville
We got up at 07h00 (in darkness) by alarm clock, because we wanted to join the “free” guided tour of Seville, after our good experience in Lisbon. After a 20 min bus ride into the centre of town, we were far too early at the Puerta de Jerez, but killed time successfully in a nearby café. The English-speaking group was sizeable, so one had to take care to be close enough to the guide not to miss the narrative. He took us to many of the places we had visited before, but added interesting information of the kind that only tour guides know, unless one does serious research. For example, the Islamic mosque, on top of which they built the cathedral is, like the Giralda, made from small bricks, a bit like Roman bricks, whereas the cathedral is made from larger sculpted blocks of rock.
The Moors took over Spain within 10 years, while it took 800 years for the Northeners to get them out. The Christians, who finally ousted the Moslems, made very few changes to most of the “inherited” buildings, but rather built on top because they didn’t have the money to start all over again and because the Moors were excellent builders. The Giralda, for example has 8m deep foundations and has barely been damaged in a number of earthquakes.
He also told us stories about the Golden Tower – some of them myths – some of the likely – i.e. that it been used as a toll booth for the river traffic and the toll money was stored there.
He also told us the story of a local saint, who did all she could to evade the attempts of seduction by the King, including pouring boiling oil over herself. After that she fled to a convent and later founded her own order. On her death her body was mummified and can be viewed on her Saint’s Day, the 2nd of December – St. Anne’s Day. Cathy’s comment “glad we missed it”.
On our walking tour we also walked through the old tobacco warehouse, built by a Spanish king and terribly grand. It was the place Bizet’s Carmen was said to have worked – now it houses part of the University, but you can walk through the public areas amongst the students.
The guide, however, omitted quite a few facts such as talking about the bull-fighting ring that we walked past. When challenged, he said he was not in favour of bull-fighting, that’s why. But he did say that, if you go nowhere else in Seville, make sure you visit the Alcázar. So we did.
And he was right: the Alcázar was the palace of the previous Moslem leader of Seville, and, as described above, it was taken over by the Christian King without many alterations. The lower floor, consisting of hundreds of little arches and the gardens are the highlights. For lovers of pattern, like Cathy, the lower floor of the Alcázar are pure poetry, pattern is laid next to pattern, plasterwork, tiles, paint, all combine to create a whole epic that delights the eye and the heart.
We had coffee and snacks outside in the café amidst the peacocks which were obviously used to be fed by tourists. Warm but gentle sunlight through the autumnal trees, Very pleasant!
Later we decided to brave the long walk to the Macarena. In the basilica of the Macarena there is a statue of the Virgin Mary with miraculous powers. The way led us through ordinary suburbs with normal people doing normal things. Suddenly our attention was excited by ‘Las Setas’, a huge (about 30 to 40m high) honeycombed structure made of wood that one (we) could climb into/on top of. It was designed by a German architect. We walked the walkways ‘in the sky’ and got different angles of the skyline of Seville all the time. In the basement there were Roman ruins that were discovered during the construction phase.
When we got to the Macarena we found ourselves lucky in that although the place was closed, it would open in 7 minutes’ time. The church is as over-decorated as Bavarian churches, I would call it kitsch. Full of all kinds of moveable statues: Macarena and her companions. She is paraded once a year through the streets on a specific moveable feast dressed up differently every year (she has a huge selection, Cathy joked about the ‘ecclesiastical Barbie’). People throng to greet her, much like a modern pop star.
We caught a bus back to the centre, and because we had a bit of time before our bus to the campsite went, we went to see the fun fair in the adjacent park and there was a stall doing crêpes with Nutella. I insisted that Beatrice had one.
Back at the campsite, we caught up on our social media and I cooked pork with chorizo. It was late when we ate and went to bed. Tomorrow we will leave for the next Andalusian gem: Cordoba.
Day 17 - Thursday – 13th December – Alex – Cordoba
Last night my father’s snoring was just a bit too enthusiastic for me to cope with while I was trying to fall asleep. I fortunately had a backup plan as it was a warmer night; I set up my hammock between two trees in the camp and promptly managed to fall asleep. The downside was that around 3am the heavens decided to open somewhat - I quickly had to run in to the campervan to seek refuge. However, I managed to fall asleep quite quickly again and the remainder of the night was pleasant.
We woke up around 9am today, which is a bit later than usual, but hey we’re on holiday after all. We followed the breakfast-pack up routine and by 11am were on the road to Cordoba. It was my turn to navigate again and with the aid of both Google maps and our navigation system I had no problems. The road we took was the A4, which is not a toll road and unfortunately this was evident as smooth is not something one would have describe the road as. Beatrice wasn’t feeling very well today and the road definitely didn’t help in making her feel any better. We did however drive past a massive solar farm; the type that uses mirrors not PV panels. It looked like a titanic war machine from afar spewing deadly rays into the sky and shining bright.
By lunchtime we had arrived in Cordoba and found the only campsite within the city - El Brillante, the municipal campgrounds. Unfortunately it seems that having this monopoly has gone to the head of the managers and they charged us an exuberant amount and on top of that wanted it all in cash. We were not the happiest of campers. We had a spot of lunch in the camper van, Beatrice spent the time in bed trying to feel better.
We then decided to use the afternoon to see the sights as we didn’t really want to spend another day at the campsite. We therefore geared up and made our way to find the bus that would take us into town. We were told by the camp’s receptionist that we should take the number 9 bus into town as this would deliver
us at the Mezquita Cathedral, the highlight of Cordoba. We walked for quite a while finding no bus stop for the number 9. We resorted to asking two young women who couldn’t really speak English and just pointed that we should continue on, after having used sign langue to a large extent. We ended up finding the number 9 bus, which involved a bit of run to reach it, only to find that we should actually take the number 12 bus. Fortunately the number 12 bus was but a few meters away and with a quick sprint we managed to get onto that one. This one dropped us off practically in front of the Mezquita Cathedral. A Pro tip: use google maps’ bus setting and it’ll tell you what the fastest and most direct route is to your desired location as it also has the bus schedules memorized.
When we finally reached the Mezquita Cathedral we located the tourist information office quickly and got a nice city map. On our way up to the Mezquita Cathedral we came across a bunch of school kids that had clearly been brought here for an educational visit using the polished pavement to slide down on. They would get a good run up and then throw themselves down and see how far they could glide – looked like fun – my mother disagreed strangely. The most alarming part was that my mother, with arm in sling, decided to stop and watch the kids while standing on the polished pavement in the runways of the kids – Beatrice nearly had a conniption when she saw this. Can’t take our mother anywhere!
We paid 10€ to enter the Mezquita Cathedral, no discounts unfortunately for non-Spanish pensioners. But wow was it worth the money! It’s amazing! It’s basically a cathedral that was incorporated into a giant mosque. There are hundreds of red and white striped arches. Those are the amazing part, the Christian part looks vulgar and kitsch in comparison to the old Arabic architecture. I would highly recommend a visit to this forest of pillars and archways.
After our visit to the Mezquita Cathedral we walked over the Puente Romano, a big old bridge that crosses the Guadalquivir River this allowed us to have a great view back of the old town. We then walked back across, noticing how many broken umbrellas there were in bins; must get very windy it would seem.
The Alcazar was our next stop and was free for the 65+ and 2.25€ for students. It was very beautiful and well worth a visit for that price. There is a tower that gives a nice view of the gardens and parts of old Cordoba, roman mosaics on display and loads of fountains. Very similar to the Alcazar in Seville but smaller. By this time the sun was setting, my mother’s arm was getting heavy and my father (in only one waistcoat) was getting cold. We therefore went in search of a Tapas bar; unfortunately the couple of places we tried had their kitchens closed already and so only a drink would have to suffice. Note: the prices differ between standing and sitting in restaurants/bars!
We then got the number 12 bus back and walked the +- 700m back to our campsite. I then cooked dinner and not all too late we went to bed.
Note: We did spot that a free walking tour is operating here, for those that wish that in future.
Day 18 - Friday – 14th December – Cathy – Granada
We have pretty well solved the navigator problem. We use it to get from town to town but if we feel like deviating we do and she will eventually catch up. Once we are nearing a camping place we ignore her more outlandish suggestions and Beatrice takes over- it worked a treat today!
Chris chose a very lovely route to get to Granada over hillsides covered with olive groves, past little mountain top villages with castles and over increasingly hilly terrain until the snow covered Sierra Nevada came into view. Once we had seen our fill of olive dotted hillsides and snow covered mountains we found that we had to concentrate on Granada traffic. As we came into the outskirts we spotted a big supermarket centre; Lidl and Carrefour together. We pulled into the Lidl carpark but went shopping at Carrefour. Chris and the kids returned laden with shopping and we left for the city and our “Camping Hotel Granada” at least for tonight. It is the most expensive place that we have stayed in so far and it does not really look like value for money but of all the camping places it is by far the closest to town.
Granada is higher than Cordoba and generally colder, the snow on the mountains is witness to that. We will need to keep the van as warm as possible tonight.
In the late afternoon Chris and Beatrice went out on the bikes and Alex ran with them to the city centre, where they reached as far as the Alhambra. The tourist office was closed by the time they got there, although Alex did manage to pick up a leaflet on free walking tours.
Beatrice cooked this evening; warm salad with curried pork, plus a yogurt, coriander and garlic sauce.
Day 19 - Saturday – 15th December – Beatrice – Granada
Trust me waking up at 7am is hard but waking up at 7am when it is still dark and the showers are a trek through minus degrees away is pretty awful. Nevertheless we managed and in the freezing cold walked to get the 33 bus to take us to the starting point of the free walking tour.
As we arrived way too early for walking tour we sat down in a heated café and ordered coffee and a pan tostado to share. Pan tostado is a cut piece of baguette style bread toasted and served with a tomato pulp. It is very nice and quenched Mummy’s craving. Since I do not drink coffee I tried to order warm milk. This did however not go to plan as I asked for warm milk “leche caldo”. Caldo might mean warm in Italian but in Spanish refers to a soup on a chicken basis. The waiter explained this to me and blushing I assured him that no I did not want soup. He asked if I wanted leche and I nodded. Soon after I was given a coffee with added milk. I felt too silly to hand it back and so Alex enjoyed another cup of coffee.
Soon we walked to the nearby Plaza Isabella Catolica and signed up for the tour with kind men holding big white umbrellas under the statue of Queen Isabella and Christopher Columbus. We eventually were sorted into language groups where we huddled up in the now 2 degree weather. Luckily Alex had a knitted hat spare and helped Mummy’s ears battle the cold. It was a relatively small group but to Mummy’s despair one of the men wore a fluorescent green jacket that ruined many a photographs. With frozen feet and bright red noses our kind and energetic tour guide Raoul gave us a historical introduction to the city. We started the tour off by walking into a small historical market area. It has a grand courtyard and many rooms to store products and merchandise. In the centre of the courtyard is a small fountain with two spouts; one from the Darro and the other from the Genil river. This is where the merchants were welcomed into the market and offered a drink of the two rivers. Unknown to them this water was poisoned and so the merchants died and their goods were stolen from them. All quickly cleared up before the next merchant came along. Lovely.
Further we went into the city centre and further we delved in the history of Grenada. We arrived at plaza Bib-Rambla, which translated means gate and river. Even though there is no gate now, in the past a large gate welcomed the “river” of people and sellers to the market area. This gate was embellished with rather morbid ornaments, as it showed off the ears of spies and hands of robbers. This gate eventually collapsed under the weight of the crimes. Later the plaza became a bull ring, but as too many bulls got loose and rampaged through town the next heir transformed the plaza into an execution area, where heads would roll down the hill to warn newcomers of the harsh justice system. Finally it became a flower market, a much nicer use of the beautiful square I think.
We made our way through the cobbled streets, with their Black and white designs and ended up in Plaza de las Pasiegas. The pasiegas were a group of poor women who sat there breastfeeding the wealthy peoples’ babies in exchange for money. The square, which is loomed over by the gigantic cathedral, was named in their honour. The cathedral as many historical buildings has an interesting tale to tell. It took 180 years to build and 3 governing bodies to complete. Each of these kings or queens hired bespoken architect of that time, which is the reason that this cathedral went through 3 distinct design eras: gothic, renaissance, baroque. The inside is covered with white marble and as most designs of royals has the main purpose to make everyone else feel small.
But the royals also had problems among themselves and as Queen Isabella became older she looked amongst her children for a suitable heir. This was not an easy task as the rightful future king died at 2 years followed closely by another 2 of her children. Next in line was Joanna known as Joanne the insane. There are many reasons for this princess to become insane; her siblings dying, being told that she would become ruler of Spain or her husband Philippe suddenly passing away. No matter which reason, the royal family declared her unfit to be an heir and locked her up in a cell in the castle. Her son Charles became king and tried to free his mother but after many, many years of incarceration she was beyond help and her son closed the doors on her once again.
A similar tragedy also unfolded itself to us when we walked past the Zafra house. Zafra was the accountant of Isabella and Ferdinand and as he did such an outstanding job he was awarded with not just one house but a small suburb. One of these houses is on “paseo de los triste” street of the sadness, named so due to the processions that took place on that road to reach the cemetery.
This house of Zafra has a balcony, where the window has been walled up. This is the scene of the second tragedy of Granada that we have learnt of today. Zafra had a beautiful daughter called Elvira and a loyal servant living in the house with him. Zafra, very protective of his daughter, locked her up where she watched the world pass by from her balcony window. When Elvira was 17 years old a handsome man named Alfonso passed by her window and as Zafra was out of town Elvira invited Alfonso into her house. Unfortunately Zafra came back earlier than expected and when the butler saw him approaching he ran to warn the teenagers. Alfonso jumped from the balcony and was never seen again. Zafra on the other hand barged into the room to find his daughter lying naked next to his servant. Without blinking he killed his butler in cold blood and soon after boarded the window shut with the promise that Elvira will never see the light of day again. Eventually this poor girl took her life with poison left in the house. When her father saw her lifeless body he jumped from the bridge and so within the span of one week the entire Zafra household was no more.
We ended up in plaza Saint Ana and after saying our farewells, we were greeted by impressive impromptu flamenco. We watched in awe and after a while slowly moved on to a not quite traditional Turkish café. We sat in the sun and watched how the traders quickly packed up and dispersed as a Police officer walked about. No one ran, but suddenly on the next glance all traders went off in different directions and the plaza was empty.
On Mummy’s wish we decided to ascend to Mirador San Nicolas. Up and up we walked through small little alleyways and street musicians in every corner. The view from the Mirador San Nicolas was beautiful! We had a fantastic view onto the Alhambra as well as the city, with its white houses and small courtyards. The weather had luckily warmed up considerably and the atmosphere was great. Two guitarists played their hearts out, merchants sold their trinkets and a mixture of locals and tourists gazed out onto sunny Granada.
From here we walked to Sacramonte. It is a gypsy suburb with rather unusual houses. Even though the front of the house appeared normal, the back of the house extended far into the maintain sides- hence these houses are referred to as caves. We wondered through the little cobbled streets with outstanding views every few feet. We serendipitously stumbled across a little “cave” of a family, who let us have a look inside in exchange of 1 euro per person. The cave had white washed walls and rugged surfaces, where presumably the rock had been chipped away. The ceilings were low and the rooms were small with rounded edges. The family obviously took great care and the cave was lovingly decorated- quite obviously there were no windows. The floor was made out of wood and one of the family members laughingly assured us that it is great for flamenco. We decided that the history we learnt on the free walking tour and the kind family allowing us into their home was good enough and so we decided not to spend the 5 euros per person on the museum.
We ambled on and stumbled across a small bar run by a local elderly man with such style. He wore a 3 piece traditional corduroy suit, stylish sunglasses and a very you-get-what-you-ordered attitude. We had beer and cool drinks served with olives and peanuts to snack on. The sun was glorious and with no time constraints we wondered back to the number 33 bus stop.
Once back at the campsite Alex and Daddy spent quite a while booking tickets to the Alhambra- please note for anyone who is going: you have to book online in advance - in summer time probably a week before your intended time you want to visit!
For supper Daddy cooked a fusion of Coq au Vin with Paella spices and Alex went on a long night run and only returned close to midnight - luckily Alex has a very good sense of direction and so we were not too worried.
Day 20- Sunday – 16th December – Alex – Grenada
We had a bit of a lie-in today and weren’t rushed to do anything really and so slowly took the time to do a few outstanding jobs. Today we wanted to do a free walking tour of the Albacin with Walk-In-Granada at 4pm.
We had been told the previous day that the Cathedral and Zafra’s house (see yesterday’s entry) would be free to the public today. We therefore jumped on the number 33 bus and headed into town. We arrived at the cathedral only to find it shut, the times said it would reopen at 2pm. That was only about half an hour to go so we decided to have a coffee nearby. At 2pm the cathedral did indeed open and although we found out it was only free if you had booked in advance online or attended a service. We however went in to try our luck in true my parents style and while causing bit of a scene managed to see a bit of the inside of the cathedral. It was indeed massive and all white as we had been told during yesterday’s tour. That seemed to satisfy my mother’s curiosity somewhat.
The morning and early afternoon had been nice and sunny, now however the sky was quickly becoming overcast and ominously grey. We feared that it would rain as: Walking tour + rain = not such a fun time. We walked around a bit more and then found a café to sit in and have coffee or churros and chocolate while we waited for 4pm to come. The waiting staff was truly awful at this place and avoided our eyes at an Olympic level. Even when we wanted to pay they avoided us, I ended up having to go find a senior person in order to do so. The waiters did at least receive something similar to a clop behind the ears, however the chance of a tip was below zero.
I had gone to chat to the organizer of the Walk-In-Granada tours and booked us four in. Lucky I did as it was almost booked out. They recommended booking online in advance in future even if it is free. At around 4pm, a bit later of course, we met our guide for this trip: Ana, a local woman who was passionate about Albacin as she was a resident and refreshingly very supportive of Islam. The tour was great and there was hardly any overlap with the tour we did yesterday.
We visited Zafra’s house free, glad we hadn’t done it earlier, and it was exactly as Raoul had described it the previous day: a central patio with pool and an upstairs area for Zafra’s wives to watch from. Well worth a visit as it also gives a good overview of the history of Granada. We then proceeded to walk uphill to the Mirador San Nicolas via the small streets, passing smaller miradors and viewpoints along the way.
The Albacin is a UNESCO world heritage site but still is not a place where rich people live, Ana herself lives here and the rent is actually very decent. We went to visit the official mosque of Granada which is right next to the Mirador San Nicolas. Initially there was much resistance to the construction of this mosque but with the input of governments of places like Morocco it was finally allowed to be built. There was a great view of the Alhambra from here as well.
Next stop was the Mirador San Nicolas, which again was great with music being played and loads of hippy-esque people selling things. We then descended the hill again passing markets and other small churches as well as old cisterns. At the bottom we then bade farewell to Ana just as the lights of the Alhambra were being turned on. A great tour and very informative! Ana was a lovely guide! My parents really engaged with her and it almost seemed like every question posed came from one of us.
During the tour Beatrice had asked about food that was specific to Granada and Ana had told her about Piononos, which after the tour we promptly went in search of. Little cakes made with almond meal sponge wrapped around a filling & soaked in syrup with a little custard topping. Pastel de nata still wins however! We bought a few to taste in a small bakery near the Plaza Nueva.
We walked along the centre of the old town for a bit in search of Christmas lights and then proceeded to do a small pub crawl in search of varying Tapas. In between tapas bars we would look for more Christmas lights. Was a very, very fun evening in which we got to taste many forms of Tapas along with some lovely wines or beers. My parents in particular liked a wine called “Manzanilla” which is a wine that tastes very much like sherry.
We then caught the number 33 bus once we had all been fed and watered sufficiently and then proceeded to go to bed shortly after as we wanted to have an early start tomorrow.
Day 21 - Monday – 17th December – Cathy and Alex – Granada
We set the alarms for 8am today because we didn’t want to have any time pressure. It is a steep uphill walk to the entrance of the Alhambra and we had been warned about long queues waiting to go into the palaces. I reckoned that if we arrived in the town centre at 10am we would have all the time in the world before we entered the palaces at 1:30pm.
It turned out that we could have left half an hour later but it was good to be able to explore in a relaxed way and it was good to be there a little earlier and not have crowds to contend with around the gardens and the other monuments.
It was a cool clear day promising to be sunny later and the streets were quite empty at 10am. Most locals were already at work and most tourists were yet to emerge. There were a few people walking up the hill with us but only a few. The first part of the walk is up steep narrow streets to an archway. On the other side of the archway one is already inside the first defensive wall of the Alhambra and one walks through gold and green woodland. The foliage for the most part was still intact and sunlight streamed onto the pathway. The surface was a bit uneven so I had to be careful particularly with my left arm in plaster.
Fairly soon there was a fountain with Neptune and his cohorts spouting water near to the door of judgement. About 10mins further on was the actual entrance. We arrived around 10:30am and since we had already bought our tickets online there was no need to queue. We were simply told not to miss our 1:30pm time for the palaces.
We started at the gardens of the Generalife, roses and a few bedding plants were flowering not quite the voluptuous flowers of the summer but the topiary was newly trimmed and the fountains were playing and it was as pretty as it could be. I loved the stairs with rivulets in the handrails and the sound of flowing water everywhere. The Generalife with its still pools and fountains is a small foretaste of the palaces.
Next we went to the Alcazab; the fortress part of the edifice from here we had a spectacular view of the Sierra Nevada with its shiny white covering of snow and the city of Granada in particular the Sacromonte with its cave dwellers and the Albaicin. From the fortress tower you can look down into the courtyards and patios of the old houses of the Albaicin. Alex spotted Zafra’s house which has quite a small patio compared to some of the others. We asked a couple of Spanish guys please to take our picture.
In the square below the Alcazab they sell coffee in small glasses, Beatrice had an ice-cream and the rest of us coffee.
We had left a generous amount of time to queue for the Nasrid Palaces and as a result found ourselves at the head of the queue for 1:30pm entrance watching the 1pm latecomer trying to dash through before the cut-off point. One large family had not read the “no pushchairs” part of the ticket and tried to fight their way in, no luck, they were just wasting time. I didn’t see them as we went round.
The Palaces are truly wonderful a poetic bringing together of all that is most beautiful in Moorish architecture. Carved alabaster, tiled floors and walls and the stalactite ceilings that we have heard about during the past days. Tranquil pools of water, filtered light, views framed by Moorish arches and lush gardens. There were not enough visitors to crowd the view and at times one could really imagine what life must have been like for the rich and powerful living here.
I loved the pattern laid on pattern and the views through views. I also loved the secret places and hidden gardens, they were such a delight. At one point we were in a bath house and walking under low domed ceilings, Alex found a point of resonance where, if he intoned in a low voice, the air within the building seemed to vibrate and throw back the sound. It sounded like a huge digeridoo, amazing!
Before the palaces we briefly visited the place built by Charles the V, the heir of Ferdinand and Isabella. It’s a strange building in the roman style with a circular columned central courtyard that feels like a bullring and yet cannot be. It houses an art gallery nowadays; apparently it never actually housed Charles. I found it a heavy brutal building, a stark contrast to the palaces with their light and delicacy.
The Catholics razed most of the mosques in Granada or just converted them to churches. This can be seen in the shape of the arches or the small bricks used in their construction or in the three balls on top of their domes onto which, in many cases a cross has just been grafted. The three balls one on top of the other are an Islamic symbol. There is a rather uninspiring church in the Alhambra it was closed we were not worried about that.
There are 27 wells in the old town of Granada that fed the houses of the Albaicin. These are now mostly unused and covered for safety but the Alhambra still uses its old water supply to feed its gardens and drinking fountains.
From the palaces we could look across to where we had walked in the Albaicin; the Mirador San Nicolas is clear, the church there is one of the few that was never a mosque. We had a full 4 hours at the Alhambra and enjoyed every moment. We retraced our steps through the woods and streets until we reached Plaza Nueva where we satisfied Alex’ need for a doner kebab. Not very Spanish but he had been craving it for a while. From the Turkish restaurant we moved a little further for a coffee and our last piononos for the time being.
We returned to the camp on the no.33 bus and relaxed. Chris went for a cultural experience at the supermarket and the rest of us caught up on Facebook. Alex was on duty to cook supper.
There is a place in the Sierra Nevada mountains on the way to the coast where Mohammed XII, the last sultan of Granada, who surrendered to the Catholics, is said to have turned to weep at the final sight of his beloved city, whereupon his mother, an assertive and not very sympathetic person said to him; “Now you cry like a woman because you couldn’t fight like a man.” He ended up in Fez; maybe we will encounter him again on our travels in Morocco.
Day 22 - Tuesday – 18th December – Cathy – Torre del Mar
Today we headed to the coast to see our friends Paul and Chantal and to experience some warmer weather. The traffic in Granada was quite busy as we left the city but thinned out once we were on the motorway. I must say that in Spain and Portugal the motorways are much less crowded than the ones in France and worst of all Germany.
We drove through the pass of the ‘Moor’s Last Sigh’ which is not marked by anything other than a motorway name marker, and moved into the lovely hilly farmland with small white towns that surrounds Granada. As we drove southwards we could see that the mild Mediterranean climate allows farmers to grow all sorts of frost tender crops. We saw paw-paws and bananas as well as the usual olives and citrus and there was an increase in poly-tunnels for salad stuff and flowers as we neared the sea.
The ‘Autovia Mediterrano’ which we eventually turned onto is a road of tunnels and viaducts crossing the mountains and river valleys that move down to the sea. On our left was the sparkling Mediterranean, on our right the mountains. The sun was brilliant, the sea was silver, the sky was blue and the mountain slopes were an intense green – this was winter?
All along the coast are seaside resorts with high rise buildings, golf courses and swimming pools; everything for the holidaymaker. At this time of year these are mostly northern Europeans fleeing the cold.
Paul and Chantal are staying at Torre del Mar, a resort just along the coast from Malaga. We reached the town and pulled into a car park near to the sea at around 2pm. This is siesta time in Spain and so we didn’t contact Paul or Chantal straight away; we went for a walk on the beach and had a late lunch in the van.
At 4 we sent Chantal a message. She and Paul were on the beach near to us and we met them on the promenade, a lovely wide tiled walk along the seafront that runs for about 4 kilometres. It was good to see them and Paul was delighted to see the kids after quite a few years.
We walked a bit and enjoyed the warm sea air. We stopped at a beach café for a drink and then went up to their flat on the 9th floor of a block overlooking the sea with a really fantastic view out to sea and along the coast.
The kids moved straight away into the spare bedroom while we would sleep in the van for a couple of nights. The plan was for us all to occupy the flat while Paul and Chantal are back home in Belgium for Christmas. Chris and the kids had explored the caravan park earlier and come back to describe a nightmare of plastic reindeer, father Christmases and fairy lights. Chris shuddered, but I regretted not going with them. That is the kind of extreme bad taste that I enjoy! Chris was happy to see that there were other campervans in the carpark indicating that we had been spared the caravan park!
Chantal cooked copious amounts of prawns for supper, really delicious with some salad and white wine. We slept well in our campervan and had no brushes with police or otherwise. Our fellow travellers are a British, a Dutch and a German couple who happily shared travellers’ tales with Chris.
Day 23- Wednesday – 19th December – Beatrice – Torre del Mar
After waking up I stayed in bed, relishing the fact that Alex and I do not have to jump out of bed for others to be able to move around in the van. When we finally got up and dressed, Paul and Chantal had already set a beautiful breakfast table with fresh kiwis and melon, divine bread and above all else decadent pastries that Paul had lovingly bought in the early morning.
The parents soon made an appearance and with much chatting and laughter we indulged ourselves. Indulgence and chatting is the main theme of today accompanied by sea side walks and relaxation - what bliss.
Daddy and Alex decided to cycle to the harbour, whereby the rest of us took the bus. As the appropriate bus would only arrive in ¾ of an hour we took a different bus, which would at least take us half the way. We made our way slowly to the harbour and together with Alex and Daddy we sat down at a lovely café. This time the orange juice did not even need added sugar!
On our way back along the glorious promenade Alex and I swapped so he could chat with Paul and Chantal and Daddy and I cycled ahead to scout out a place to eat paella. Paella is one of the most classical Spanish dishes and contains both chicken and seafood in a special short grain rice dish coloured bright yellow with saffron. To be noted is that restaurants normally only make paella for a minimum of 2 people as it is quite a palaver to make and is served in the frying pan.
In the well frequented Eclipse Café Daddy sat amongst the locals waiting for the others to catch up and I cycled on to get rid of some pent up energy. It is such a delightful promenade with outdoor gyms, libraries and cafés lining the broad walk way and paved cycling path. By now seeing palm trees is not as odd as in Granada and on such a sunny day the shade is almost welcome. I raced back and we ordered Paella for 4, whereby Paul and Daddy were more adventurous and ordered something different.
The paella arrived in a big pan and was decorated intricately with lemon, mussels and shrimps. This was served with Manzanilla, a tradition Spanish kind of sherry wine. The paella tasted as good as it looked, which was no small feat!
With full tummies we walked further along the promenade back to the flat. We indulged in one more coffee on the way and retired for a siesta.
We chatted and caught up on past events and some others snoozed peacefully. The marvellous day ended with a light salad (how could we even contemplated more!) and good company. We are very lucky to be able to stay here over Christmas!
Day 24- Thursday – 20th December – Alex – Torre del Mar
Today was a lovely and “chilled” day, but sadly also the day that Paul and Chantal would be leaving us for a week to spend Christmas at home in Belgium. This meant however that my parents could move into the apartment which they were quite happy about. The day started well with our alarm clock going off at around 8:30am. Beatrice and I had to share a bed, which was perfectly fine, just it wasn’t the biggest of beds and so at any given time one of us would be near falling out. It never happened fortunately. Paul and my parents managed to find themselves locked outside the bottom door of the block of flats as the door was broken for the use of keys. They tried ringing the doorbell but that didn’t seem to work either. Why they didn’t call us we will never know. They did however finally get in and we sat down to have breakfast together. Paul had bought some pastries which were very nice. After showers we meandered into town to immerse ourselves into the Thursday market they have in Torre del Mar; a whole section of the centre of town is blocked off for traffic and hundreds of stalls are set up selling everything from persimmons and custard apples to fur coats and plastic bedazzled microphones. You name it and it was probably available there.
Once back at the flat Paul and Chantal prepared to leave and then they, my father and I piled into the campervan and drove to the airport of Malaga. It was quite a drive but was straight forward and was the least we could do for Paul and Chantal.
Once back I had been given the task by Chantal to take down the washing she had put up in the morning off the washing line. I therefore went up to the roof happily and confidently that it would be a quick thing only to find that most of the lines were in use and all draped with bed sheets etc.; exactly what I should have been getting down. I was a bit stumped. I therefore had to message Chantal to ask which was hers. For the time being I left them up. At night I later returned and found that there was only one line left in use and therefore had to be Chantal’s. Only the next day did I get a reply informing me which was her washing.
My father and I then decided to go for a cycle ride around 5:30pm and my mother and sister would go for a walk. We decided to cycle along the beach front as far as we could go which was practically all the way to the other side of the bay. From here we watched a lovely sunset and I managed to find a spot on the beach to continue my rock skipping saga.
Once home my father cooked a lovely meal and we had a relaxing evening.
Day 25- Friday – 21th December – Chris – Torre del Mar
This was the day Cathy had to go for a check-up at the local hospital regarding her broken arm. Beatrice, kindly went with her. When Cathy came back she reported that they had x-rayed it and were satisfied with the way it was setting. Now another 4 weeks of this … what a pain. But we all agreed that we should be grateful, it could have been much worse, starting with the easiest one: she could have broken her right arm … and from there the imagination can escalate to unthinkable scenarios.
In the meantime Alex and I did some domestic chores and I went to enquire from people at the campsite where one could refill the 11kg gas bottle. One seasoned German Womo camper was adamant about this place outside town. Alex and I drove there later, quite a way, only get a negative answer. Fortunately we have 2 bottles, the second one of which is still untouched. Maybe better luck in Algeciras.
My gout has not abated yet – quite unpleasant, I can only limp along with the others, but on the bicycle it is quite bearable (comfortable would be an exaggeration!). I’ve had gout before, probably about 10 years ago, but then I sat in an office all day and, at worst I had to limp down to the car. On an active trip like this one, there is no easy down-time.
A pleasant, but unremarkable evening.
Day 26- Saturday – 22th December – Cathy – Torre del Mar
Today we visited Malaga which is a forty five minute bus ride away on the motorway. It’s a bit tricky buying bus tickets and finding buses in Spanish but at least we were at the terminus so the bus had to stop for us. I listened carefully for other people who would be catching the same bus so that we could just follow them. As it was the bus had Malaga written on the front in large writing, hard to miss!
It was a pretty drive to Malaga, lots of hills with little villages sprinkled white against the green and a bright blue sky. It was quite cold to start with but we warmed up quickly in the sun.
We weren’t sure where to get off the bus. It stopped near to the town centre but we didn’t know that and so we carried on until the bus station, a bit too far. Nearby was a big shopping centre where we looked for sunglasses for Beatrice. We found no sunglasses but we did find a woman who could give us travel and tourist advice. We collected maps and directions from her and a couple of brochures and crossed the road to have a cup of coffee and think about what to do.
The kids and I wanted to visit the Picasso museum and his house; Chris didn’t so we parted company. Chris to explore the seafront and us to walk to the museum. We planned to meet in around three hours.
To get to the museum we walked passed the cathedral, a massive building on the foundations, as ever, on a mosque. It has only one tower although it should have two. One tower was never finished. The cathedral is known as La Mantquita or The One Armed Woman because of the lack of the second tower. Given my current situation I thought it would be a good idea to have my photo taken in front of it!
The walk through the old town of Malaga was as entertaining as any big Spanish town, more so possibly because it was a lovely warm sunny day and the Saturday before Christmas. Frantic shopping was going on and there were lots of street musicians, lots of performers, lots of guitars and also living statues which I must confess I find rather hard to understand.
The museum was laid out chronologically through Picasso’s various styles and phases. The kids were particularly taken with a series of drawings of bulls and Alex also enjoyed some guitar abstractions. There was emphasis on the influence of Spanish culture on his work which was very interesting. The audio set came free but was a bit long-winded so we tended only to listen to the first parts of the explanations. There was a temporary exhibition that situated Picasso’s work in comparison to influences from the past and the work of other artists; so for example there were Greek vases Roman sculptures and Renaissance religious paintings as well as the work of contemporaries. I found this the most interesting of all. The Picasso house had more personal stuff such as photos and letters as well as some sketches and even clothing and furniture.
We were a bit early for our meeting with Chris despite having lingered to look at the Roman amphitheatre and the Alcazab above it; we were amazed to see that a tunnel for a road had be burrowed under the hill on which the Alcazab is built. Who thought that was a good idea?
We met Chris where we had parted company, near to a long promenade that runs alongside a very green garden for about a kilometre. He told us that he had found some interesting things going on at the harbour. We walked through the gardens until we found a crossing point to take us closer to the water and then continued on a very attractive walkway with a wavy roof (I found out later that it was designed by Junquera Architects, a local firm who were involved in the general revamping of the harbour area).
At the end of the walkway is the Pompidou centre and just before that is an open exhibition space where young artists were exhibiting and a mural artist was at work. It was a great place, energetic, vibrant and exciting with lots of good stuff to see; it’s called Artsenal. There are cafes everywhere on the waterfront, it reminded me a bit of Cape Town; interesting shops, restaurants and of course boat trips. We decided to take a boat trip and booked to leave for a sunset cruise at 5pm, meanwhile we sat at a café for a drink and over our drinks we got chatting with a British couple, also campervanners, who were able to give us some handy tips.
At five we boarded the boat and sailed out of the harbour passing a container ship being unloaded; a precision job by the crane driver. It was a lovely wooden boat made we were told, in Norway. Other passengers near us were a retired couple from the UK and a young family with a very excitable toddler luckily strapped into a pushchair. We were all forward, the rest of the passengers were aft. For around 45mins we sailed along the coast as the sun sank lower, then we turned around and sailed into the sunset. It was beautiful, so lovely that we quite forgave the boat owner for not providing us with any champagne.
Alex was busy taking pictures with his “GoPro”; they turned out really well. Chris and I were also snapping away. Planes were flying out of Malaga airport at around 50 second intervals and the seagulls were busy finding a last snack. As we entered the harbour the Christmas lights came on, the crane operator was still busy unloading containers and the sea turned to fire as the sunset reached its greatest intensity. As the boat was being moored the flood lights on the castle and Alcazaba came on; perfect.
It was quite cold by now but we made a last effort to get to the Christmas lights which we had been told, were fabulous. They were worth getting a bit chilly. Along the main pedestrian street they had hung a web of lights that sparkled and described the form of a magnificent cathedral roof running the entire length of the street. There were “domes” at regular intervals and also “stained glass windows” along the sides of the display. Hundreds of people walked under the tracery of light. Buying snacks, taking selfies, listening to musicians and trying to get the living statues to react.
We were pretty cold by now and the kids guided us to the bus stop and sorted out our tickets very competently. The bus was a little warmer and Alex and Beatrice jumped in and saved places for us. The forty five minute journey was quite pretty with the lights of the villages high on the hills and the resorts down by the sea. Once we were back in Torre del Mar the kids dashed to the supermarket and Chris and I went back to the flat to warm up. Chris cooked soup with pork chops and salad. The soup was exactly what I needed.
Day 27- Sunday – 23th December – Beatrice – Torre del Mar
Today is the 4th advent and so it is basically Christmas! With very few protests I concluded with this reasoning that we should indulge in panettone for breakfast. Yes, panettone is not Spanish and yes, I do not care and definitely yes, it’s delicious!
After a very relaxed morning we started getting our act together as things needed to be done. We washed clothes and dishes, tidied up and Mummy vacuumed. Soon Alex, Daddy and I went off to the store to do the Christmas grocery shopping. This was very successful despite the lack of sage in this part of the world. As I started preparing food for Christmas that needed time to set or rest, Alex and Mummy went for a walk and Daddy went off on his bicycle.
Mummy and Alex went to the campervan sites to look at all the glorious decoration we had told her about- she thought it was amazingly amusing and started taking pictures of everyone and everything much to Alex’ embarrassment. Leaving the flashing lights and reindeer sculptures behind, they came across a shop that sold Christmas decorations. Mummy, feeling inspired by the merry campers, bought enough decorations to make a makeshift Christmas tree. The moment they arrived back Mummy got to work with baubles, tinsel and cloth poinsettias and decorated the house plant so as to encourage the Christmas spirit.
I slaved away in the kitchen but was done in time to accompany the other three to a Christmas show in the pedestrian only street of Torre del Mare. This turned out to be an end of year performance of a flamenco school. This show had, as any school performance, a very wide variety of skill. The 4-6 year olds spent most of their time on stage looking very confused at the dance instructor bouncing up and down trying to get them to follow the choreography. Slowly the dancing became better and the amount of rogue flamenco decreased considerably. One particular boy impressed me, as he put so much soul and passion into his performance and outshone his female counterparts considerably. The eldest group, comprising of two about 17-18 year olds girls, were rather good and made our endurance of the small dancers worth it. Nevertheless as the adults started with their folk dancers we decided to leave and wondered back home, where Alex cooked a delicious Bolognese with zoodles.
We ended the day as we started it; slow, relaxed and on the sofa.
Day 28 - Monday - 24th December - Alex - Torre del Mar
It’s Christmas . . . well at least if you’re German. Either way it’s a day to be excited!
The day started off very well, Beatrice had made a fruit salad and it was companied with panettone! Yum! After slowly getting ready Beatrice and my mother went off on a walk I went off in search of a nice bottle of wine for my father and some nice beer for myself. It involved walking through the busy centre of Torre del Mar, which was actually very nice. Loads of cafes and butcheries. It seemed that all of Torre del Mar was out and about. I went to a few wine shops and found what I hope will be a nice Spanish red wine for my father. I did sadly find; however, that Mercadona (the supermarket near our home), had the best selection of beer. On my way home I stopped off to buy some wrapping paper as well; what are gifts without wrapping paper!?
When I got home my father was just about to leave, perfect timing! He was to prepare the celebratory meal this evening and still needed to sort a few things out. Once my mother and sister were back we wrapped up the gifts for the “Bescherung” – the giving of presents; taking turns of course so not to ruin the surprise. I also decided to wrap the Christmas presents from myself to me and so ended up with the most gifts under the Christmas potted palm tree.
We then went out for a Christmas drink at a seafront café and were serenaded by two men singing Christmas carols with an accordion. What a pleasant way to spend the holidays!
We then meandered home so that my mother could have a bath, getting her in was quite an undertaking. Beatrice and I then went to the shops to buy a few last minute items as the shops would be closed tomorrow. We left my mother in the care of my father. When we got back we found that she was still in the bath and with a small voice called to us in the sitting room that it would be nice to be helped out. With my father and sister’s help and my project managing we achieved the unthinkable and managed to get her out. The rest of us then dressed for the occasion - well my father did put on a clean smart shirt.
At 7pm we all assembled at the dining table to start the proceedings. A scrumptious meal was had with: smoked salmon, jamon and asparagus, patés and bread, cheeses. . simply lovely. We then shared out gifts. All very happy with what we received. I was very impressed with the generous gift I gave myself! Besides the big gift of this trip, for which Beatrice and I are super grateful, my mother got me and Beatrice red underwear – mine even has Christmas motifs on it - very fun! Beatrice even managed to track down Haribo sweeties in Torre del Mar, not a small feat!
For dessert my father had bought a panoply of delicious decadent small Spanish pastries. We were blown away as we had no idea how he managed to sneak those into the house without us knowing! He’d been going on about a surprise for dessert and well he achieved his goal – we were indeed surprised. We then grouped around the television and watched “The Holiday” and then peacefully meandered off to bed.
Lovely to spend Christmas in a wonderful place with one’s loved ones.
Day 29 - Tuesday - 25th December - Chris - Torre del Mar
Nice relaxed morning, going for a walk along the esplanade with a coffee at the beach bar, preparing for Christmas dinner in the evening. The challenge was to do roast potatoes and roast turkey without an oven. The potatoes were parboiled until almost done and the turkey, cut, dismembered into appropriate pieces, was parboiled too. The carcass was pressure cooked for a long time and then the stock was reduced to make gravy. The potatoes and the turkey pieces were then, in small portions, deep fried. Worked like a dream. The stuffing was made as small meatballs and Beatrice had even found dried sage in a health shop. The supermarkets had none and the staff there, upon being shown the Spanish translation on the smart phone, denied all knowledge of it. Obviously not used in Spanish cuisine. We had found fresh (not frozen) Brussel sprouts and thus things were complete. Except for Christmas crackers … clearly not something the Spanish had ever heard off.
Before lunch we watched the film “Love Actually” on the big screen, played from Beatrice’s inexhaustible external hard drive.
For dessert Beatrice had really pushed the boat out: Chocolate mousse (from original ingredients) made in large individual wine glasses with some very fancy concentrated orange pulp, etc.: not for the faint hearted.
After dinner we watched another movie: “Mama Mia 2”. What a relaxing harmonious evening, just our little nuclear family. Next year in Swakop it will be the full Monty again for the whole Brock extended family.
Day 30 - Wednesday - 26th December - Cathy - Torre del Mar - Beatrice flies to Germany
This morning we shared our memories of the holidays so far; orange tree, fabulous pavements, pastel de nata, piononos, decathlon shops. We shared that walking tours are good and döner kebabs (Alex). We enjoyed the sunshine and the Christmas lights and so many other good things. We remembered Portuguese people speaking English, and Spanish people not.
We’ve had a wonderful time this past month and today we said goodbye to Beatrice. She had checked herself in online and packed her bags and would fly today from Malaga airport to Frankfurt to spend a few weeks with Nils and his family.
We have Alex with us for another couple of weeks in Morocco and then he returns to Namibia to start work. 2019 will bring big changes for Alex.
In the early afternoon we went for a walk along the seafront for Beatrice to say good bye to the sea for a while. We met up with Chris and had a coffee near to the beach. Alex, Chris and Beatrice then all piled into the van and headed to the airport.
We had supper when Chris and Alex got back, soup and salad and then Alex and I worked on the blog, at around 10pm we had a message from Beatrice; she was safely in Frankfurt.
Day 31 - Thursday - 27th December - Alex - Torre del Mar to Algeciras
Time to move on again. In order to get from Spain into Morocco one has to take a ferry. The most popular place to do this from is Algeciras near the southernmost point of Spain. One a good day is supposed to then be able to see the shore, or at least mountains of Morocco. So the plan for today was to get to Algeciras and buy ferry tickets for the following day.
Having spent more than a week in the flat of Paul and Chantal we had our things spread all over. Now it was time to pack them all up again and clean the flat. This involved a lot of house work and all I can say is that “domestic god” might well be something I can put on my CV after the battle that was involved in doing this. In the process we somewhere along the lines found time to have a spot of breakfast.
We then went off to a beach bar nearby and some coffees as well as braaied (barbequed for the non-Southern Africans reading) sardines which my mother just had to have after seeing them on someone else’s plate. They were super nice and hopefully we will get some more in Morocco.
Back in the flat we migrated everything of ours from the flat back to the campervan and had a spot of leftover soup. It was then soon time for my father and me to go collect Paul, Chantal and their guests from the airport. We had done this drive a few time by now and so we had no problems picking them up. A camping chair did have to be used as a makeshift seat on the way back from the airport for Paul, however he said it made him feel like a director and promptly started giving us orders. In no time we were then back in Torre del Mar and helping the new arrivals into their flat. Here Paul and Chantal presented me with a 2.5kg bag of chocolate to take back to Namibia for Beatrice and a selection of Belgian beers for me. I was blown away by this! Although that chocolate is going to be very fun getting back to Namibia. That is if it survives that long . . . border controls, hungry family, wild animals . . . . Anything could happen!
Paul and Chantal then came down with us to say farewell and off we went, on the same road as to the airport again! We then continued along the AP7 motorway (with toll) to Algeciras. Witnessing a lovely sunset on the way and being able to see the rock of Gibraltar still as we entered Algeciras. We quickly found the Carrefour as described in our guide book (Motorhome Morocco – by Julie and Jason Buckley) and parked there. My father and I then went to an agent called Viajes Normandie, referred to by Carlos (after the owner) by those in the biz. Here we were able to get our ferry tickets for the next day. Three people and the campervan cost 220€ in total for a return ticket (not that I’ll be using it) with open dates. We decided to rather get tickets to Ceuta, a Spanish enclave in Morocco, so that if something goes wrong while crossing the border we are at least still in Spain and not have to take a ferry back to Algeciras.
My father and I then went shopping in the Carrefour for dinner which was bread and a selection of pates accompanied by some wine and a quadruple beer for me (wow is all I can say). We then slept in the carpark of the Carrefour for the night.
