On a bright but cool day we went off to Garachico. Nice place. Quiet and picturesque. A good choice if you wanted solitude to write your novel, or if you were on the lam, hiding from the authorities… or the mob. There’s very little there, a nice hotel, a couple of restaurants, churches of course. And, most bizarrely in this tiny village, a museum. We paid two euros and went in. The building, a fifteenth century convent was more interesting than the eclectic collection of exhibits. Old farm tools, photos and manuscripts. Although they did have a collection of seashells. I have collected seashells myself over the years, I keep my vast collection on beaches all over the world. Perhaps you’ve seen some of them. Continue reading “Tenerife 2: Tiny Castles, Steep Hills and Fiestas.”
After the incident with the dogs in El Acerbo I set off for Ponferrada. It was mainly downhill and the terrain was either scree-like or huge fissured boulders. Tough going. I spotted a woman ahead in the distance. She was moving very slowly, unsure of her footing. I could see that she was struggling from a mile away. Even from that distance I could also see that she could never be described as a small eater, adding to her problems. She had my sympathy, I had been a little overweight myself a few years ago. Mine had been a medical condition though. I suffered from an overactive knife and fork. Continue reading “Camino 10: Downhill Racer”
Carnival in Tenerife is a big deal. It’s a week-long party. All towns have their own versions but the most raucous is in Santa Cruz, Tenerife’s capital. In size it’s second only to Rio de Janeiro. There are different events every night culminating in The Burial of the Sardine on the last official night. As we wanted a bit of winter sunshine we had rented a house in La Orotava, found some cheap flights, got a deal on car hire and went. Because we can. Continue reading “Tenerife 1: Carnival in La Orotava”
As we had arrived fairly late into Santander our first morning was spent getting our bearings. I photographed the hotel as we left, a habit I’ve developed since my futile attempts to pronounce the name of a Delhi hotel to about 70 taxi drivers. So. Why Santander. Well, the Little Nurse and I love Spain but not so much the resorts. We are going to visit all the cities and all the large towns. As soon as we see cheap flights we’re off. STN-SDR was £40 return. Continue reading “Santander 1: Shellfish from Space”
After a night in Malaga we caught the 10.30 train to Seville. It got in an hour late. We had about a half hour walk to the hotel. We swapped wheelie cases because the Little Nurse was struggling with hers. Too heavy she said. In reality one of the wheels was jammed. It might as well have been an anchor. Dragging it for half an hour killed the case completely so a new one would be obtained later. Continue reading “Feria de Abril Seville 1:”
Continuing my slant on the idiosyncracies of Spanish life.
The opposite of Multi Tasking is, naturally enough, Single Tasking and that’s the way they roll in Spain. A Spanish man never does more than one thing at a time. In fact major tasks like buying a stamp or going for a haircut could very well be the only accomplishment in a whole day. A major task, like filling up with petrol, Continue reading “Life in Spain 2: Car Parking, Extreme Single Tasking and Random Windows.”
The Don Suero Hotel Leon, my home for the last two nights is right on the Camino route, so I sat outside with my morning coffee watching dozens of pilgrims continuing on their way. As I had taken the extra day in Leon I didn’t recognise many of them. People I had met earlier had mostly rolled out the day before. Continue reading “Camino 8: Ghost Town.”
The Spanish do things differently. Here’s a few things I’ve noticed about the idiosyncrasies of Spanish life.
Almost all Spanish Street Names are named after people. Not things or places. There is no Spanish equivalent of Acacia Avenue or Thames Road. It’s all people. They start off with the great and the good. Kings are definitely top of the list. Continue reading “Life in Spain 1: Waiters, what can you do?”
Only one snorer in my room of six last night. Me. Or so a scowly German woman told me over breakfast.
Well. ‘Good morning to you too’ I said.
Even at home I routinely go to bed wired to my Ipod. That along with some wine and beer has made snoring and other erm… noises in the albergues a non issue for me. Listen if you want to stay in albergues that’s the way it is. Stop complaining and get some earplugs. Or an Ipod.
I came across the scowly woman later on that same day and she sped away from me. Needlessly, as I had stopped snoring by then. No-one snores when they are awake and walking along. She should have known that. Continue reading “Camino 7: Leon, The Lost Day and The Detroit Rule”
It was raining when I set off this morning. Unnecessary I thought. John the Dublin lawyer from last night caught up with me. He was really moving which spurred me on in the rain. We went quickly through the next 3 villages and soon arrived in Sagahun over 19 klicks from Ledigos. John was on a mission and we covered it in a little over 3 hours. Had it been a race we would have come a close second and third to olympian Haile Gebrselassie, had he been on the Camino instead of winning the Berlin Marathon. Continue reading “Camino 6: Unnecessary Weather and the Headmistress of Mansilla.”