Saturday & Sunday 11&12 February - Águilas and San Juan de los Terreros

Where's Bertie? After two nights in the car park at Águilas, he's now in a car park in San Juan de los Terreros (exact location: 37.36125, -1.66457).
Weather: Sat: some sun, some showers, cool; Sun: quite a bit of sun, feeling warmer even if only 14 degrees.

Last year we visited San Juan de los Terreros to gatecrash the honeymoon of Simon & Debbie. They're down here for another couple of months this year (and are already booked for next year too), which is also why we're in this neck of the woods. Having spotted that Águilas was only 12.5km away from San Juan, using the coast path, and as Mick was due for a 21km run/walk on off-road terrain (with there being no harm in him doing a bit more, as long as he took it easy), the obvious route for him was to do the coast path in one direction, have a coffee with Simon, then repeat the path in the other direction.

It was a bit slow and sandy in places, he reported.

Meanwhile, I waited for the shower, that caught Mick almost as soon as he stepped out the door, to pass, then did something far less interesting: two hours of repetitions of the seafront promenade. Had my phone not been in a plastic bag, I would have looked at a map, negotiated my way through the town (which Mick tells me was only about 100m) and continued along the promenade on the next bit of coast. Two heavy showers caught me, and it was cool enough (just 8 degrees) to need to don a rain jacket for both (and to take it off in between, because when the sun was out it felt pleasantly warm).

Even though getting out of my wet clothes was my first priority when I got back to Bertie, it took me a good while, wrapped in a blanket, to warm back up. Perhaps I should have put the heating on, as the sun wasn't out enough to give us the solar gain I needed (15 degrees when I got in; it gradually inched higher until it reached an acceptable warmth a couple of hours later).

Mick didn't get back until nearly 2pm (unsurprisingly, he'd chatted with Simon, Debbie and their visiting friends, for longer than intended), and after food, showers and more food, the day was fairly marching on.

Between Águilas and San Juan is a petrol station with a motorhome Aire and, more of interest to us, a service point. That was our intermediate destination and we thought at that time of afternoon it would be quiet. Compared to what it's like mid-morning, it probably was, but there were still six vans there emptying and filling. They must do a roaring trade (€3 to borrow the key that opens each of the services; it's a sad fact that they've had to put separate padlocks on the sewage drain and on the toilet cassette rinse tap), as the coast between these two towns is home to hundreds of motorhomes.

We'd heard many a rumour this winter about how busy it is with motorhomes on the coast of Spain (I'm sure we've been hearing the same since our first trip down here in 2016), but until now we've not seen any overcrowding nor struggled to find somewhere to park. We haven't struggled here either, but only because there are so many available places; there really are huge numbers of vans around, on every bit of available ground along the coast and, to a lesser extent, in the town.

With the toilet empty and a couple of drinking water bottles filled, onwards to San Juan, where we slotted Bertie into a car park right in the town (last year we were about a 2km walk away).

Later in the evening we walked all the way across the road (this car park really is convenient!) to meet up with Simon et al. Bit of an odd experience: they'd just taken a table and ordered drinks as we arrived. We sat at the table next to them. Someone eventually took our drinks order too. The drinks took an age to arrive and in the meantime, a waitress came and put a reserved sign on both of our tables, but at no point said we couldn't sit there (and why would they have taken our order if we couldn't sit there?!). Drinks were consumed. More drinks were ordered. Said drinks arrived with the request that we vacate the table. We were directed into the room next door, which gave all appearances of being a breakfast room for the hotel part of the business in summer, but is a sad dumping ground at this time of year. We managed to find a table with six chairs around it and merrily sat in a semi-lit ballroom-sized space, all by ourselves, until far too late into the night. Bizarrely, the service we received in there was better than in the bar. Definitely odd, but it didn't stop us from booking in for a paella for lunch today.

Ssssshhhhhh - don't disturb anyone! And make sure you get the right van!

Sunday
The birthday boy had a walk to do this morning, but opted for a lazy start to the day after our late night. I had a migraine, took drugs and was generally lazy, until, as Mick headed out, I went the first few hundred metres with him, before doubling back to the market.

The market was busy. It strikes me as odd that almost no shops are open in Spain on a Sunday (the occasional small supermarket in coastal resorts, and that's it), yet people are obviously willing to go out and buy. The duvet stall was notably doing well - I imagine there are lots of people arriving in town, not used to needing any substantial bedding at this time of year, who find they need to make an emergency purchase this year. I would have bought a couple of types of local nuts that we like, and I found the right stall, but at that point realised that I didn't have any money on me*, and by now Mick was somewhere up the other end of the prom.

He only got back shortly before we were due out for lunch. Being a special occasion I made an effort to look in a mirror and check my hair didn't need brushing before we went. Even put my best top on.

Good salad!

Good paella!

Good puds!

Didn't take a snap of the coffees. They weren't so universally popular.

The rest of the day was a write-off. I pulled the bed down and hopped onto it for a short siesta. Mick eventually joined me. We woke up some hours later - probably only because various windows were still open, the sun had gone, the wind was blowing, and it was getting cold inside.

It seems that market day must be the big draw for motorhome users of this car park, as when we woke up it was to find that most of our neighbours had gone.

(*Not strictly true. I've been pointlessly carrying some Sterling around with me for three weeks. Goodness knows how long that money has been in my pocket, as I almost never spend cash in the UK, and clearly haven't had occasion for anything other than my credit card in the last three weeks in Spain either.)

Thursday & Friday 9-10 February - Águilas

Where's Bertie? He's in a very large, but largely empty, car park in Águilas. Exact location: 37.40980, -1.57705.
Weather: Mainly overcast with some rain. 10-14 degrees.

Thursday
Still in Xeraco yesterday morning, I got up and breakfasted as if I was going for a run, but listening to the rain on Bertie's roof, I had second thoughts. If I wanted to keep running in the rain, I could have stayed in the UK. Thus, our planned noon departure from the campsite was brought forward and by 0930 Bertie's tanks were emptied and filled, we'd made a final use of the showers, and we were off.

The first fifteen or twenty minutes of the 3.5hr journey were spent (by me; Mick was driving) trying to find a reasonably priced petrol station that wasn't too big a detour from our route south. Eventually we settled on stopping at Murcia, as the petrol station there is next door to Ikea, where we could have a quick lunch before continuing south. Somewhere along the way we drove out from under the rain. We even got sunshine now and then.

Our first meal out of the trip and it's meatballs in Ikea. Oh dear!

I commented on the Aire in the retail park in Murcia when we stayed there in 2020 (people taking root in a retail park, where the max stay is supposed to be 72 hours, and treating it like a campsite). When we popped by in 2022 it had spread into the adjacent car park. It's now gone from motorhome hamlet to village to city, spreading over four car parks. I can only assume the owners of the retail park are allowing the situation to persist because: a) they have an excess of parking; and b) the amount of business it creates for the retailers.

With both us and Bertie refueled (156.9/litre), it was just another hour or so to Águilas where after a trip to Lidl (only height-limited underground parking, so we had to park up the street - not overly convenient as it precludes taking trolley to vehicle), we came the final 1km to this car park. Ten minutes later I headed off one way down the street for a trot along the seafront, whilst Mick went the other for a walk.

First impressions: a nice place that's far more alive than anywhere else we've been so far on this trip. There are people! Restaurants and cafés are open!

View one way along the bay

and t'other way

Friday
After a couple of hours of tapping away on the laptop, going out for café y tostada seemed like a good idea. That led to us exploring more of Águilas than just the seafront, as none of the eateries there appealed.

On the verge of giving up (because we were being picky rather than due to a lack of options), we finally happened upon the type of place we were after: a bakery with tables - the sort of place that caters to locals rather than tourists. Indeed, we managed to place our order entirely in Spanish (we may have guessed the answer to a couple of the many questions we received in return) and were served exactly what we thought we'd asked for. Always a confidence boost when that happens!

Café y tostada

On the way back to Bertie we visited another bakery (without coffee or tables) that we'd espied on our way through town:

Which cake to choose from such a fine display?

Lunch

Another walk out was had this afternoon, trying to find the signage I'd seen yesterday advertising the GR-92 coast path. I thought there had been an entire information board; turns out it was just a sign post (well, there was an adjacent info board, but it was about an inland route). Mick will be sampling the coast path mañana en la mañana.

I think we could happily spend at least a few days here, but we have a date to be elsewhere tomorrow afternoon. We'd certainly come back in the future.

Town Square, inhabited by lots of white pigeons. 

Monday - Wednesday 6-8 February - Xeraco

Where's Bertie? Somehow five nights have passed already and we're onto our final night at Xeraco Campers.
Weather: Wet.

The good news is that since my last post, the nights have warmed up considerably. The bad news is that the warmth is because of the cloud cover, and the days aren't much warmer than the nights.

I managed to get Mick's hair cut on Monday morning before the rain came around lunchtime, and when it came, my goodness, did it come. By evening Bertie had a moat and it was a veritable obstacle course of puddles, involving a small amount of unavoidable paddling, to get from Bertie to the campsite facilities.

Tuesday's weather forecast for Spain. Bertie is under the only raindrop on the entire map.

The rain has let up since, but only for short periods, but it also hasn't been as heavy, for so long, as it was on Monday.

Venturing out for a walk, I intended to use the track next to the campsite, but soon changed my mind.

I think it's a pretty safe bet that if we hadn't booked in here for 6 nights, we would have left on Monday, to seek sunshine elsewhere. That's the downside of making such a booking. The upside is that being plugged into the mains, we've had a really productive time workwise.

It's also been well timed that my shins spent Monday and Tuesday telling me quite vocally what they thought of my weekend actvities and suggesting that I needed to spend a couple of days doing almost nothing.

I ventured out again this morning for a run along the river, which didn't upset my shins (I didn't think it would; it was clearly the walking that had been the issue), but I did it in weather that was very British: heavy rain and a strong headwind on the outward leg.

Part of our justification for the expense for the campsite was that we would make good use of the facilities. On that basis, we should be on twelve hot showers between us by now. We're on four...

At least we've got all our electrical items fully charged (as long as we've remembered everything, which isn't guaranteed).

We've a big drive ahead of us tomorrow.

Saturday & Sunday 4-5 February - Xeraco

Where's Bertie? He's still on his pitch at Xeraco Campers.
Weather: Wall-to-wall sunshine, 18 yesterday, 19 today. It's now a week since we last saw a cloud - alas, the forecast says we're going to see far more than we would like next week.

It's only another week and a bit before we will likely start to do some slightly interesting stuff. In the meantime...

Saturday

Frost-covered skylight after another cold night.

Mick opted to do his 19k run/walk around the Platja area. There's no nice seafront promenade here, so it's the stitching together of streets, all of which have good pavements and side roads aren't a problem as there's almost no traffic.

Meanwhile, with my left quad still protesting after last Wednesday's efforts, I let it have another rest day and took myself off for a walk to see how far away the hills are.

They look pretty close, don't they?

Not a cloud inversion, but smoke hanging in the air. It's the time of year when brash gets burnt.

Four kilometres took me to the start of some waymarked routes into the hills...

Looking across the valley from the trailhead.

...and it was tempting to ascend a little way to see if there was a viewpoint. I'm now glad I didn't, as it seems my shins, which have historically had a very short memory, have got so used to running that they've forgotten the strains of walking. They were noticeably sore by the end of the day, and still are now. If I'd gone up the hill, I'd have been kicking myself, thinking that it had been caused by the descent*.

Taking a different route back through the town of Xeraco (which doesn't look to be a remotely interesting place), I stumbled upon what might be the only point of interest there:

The town cistern, built in the 1880s, made obsolete in 1939, and now a museum.

The rest of the day passed off pretty much the same as those that came before it.

Sunday
Seeing how many people have had washing hanging out over the last couple of days, and with there only being three washing machines here, I suspected (correctly, it turns out) that the laundry would be a popular place first thing in the morning. So, I moved early (about three minutes before they turned the power on to the machines, as I now know) and by half past eight my fingers were freezing as I erected our rotary clothes airer and pegged everything out to dry.

Wanting to run in the heat of what was forecast to be our warmest day yet, we didn't head out the door for exercise until gone 11am. Mick headed one way, to look at the town, I went the other - to discover that if you go south along the coast, cross the river and take the boardwalk onto the beach, you find yourself in soft sand. Perhaps inadvisedly, I continued along the sand for about 700m before turning back.

The point at which I realised this was not where I wanted to be

I then discovered, more happily, that tracks run along both sides of the river. Unfortunately, I didn't find another bridge to join them, but even an out-and-back was nice. So, with the hills, the riverside track and the beach, this isn't a bad location ... except for the lack of businesses that are open (there are a few bars in town, but none of them appealed as we passed).


^{(*I knew that sore shins were in my near future, but didn't expect it to occur on a relatively short, relatively flat walk. My plan post-marathon was already to rest for a week before doing a couple of short downhill sessions (i.e. walk up, hammer it back down), knowing that the initial reaction of my shins take me out of action for a couple or three days before they adapt. I will then be launching into long distance training on lumpy off-road terrain, having spent months running on flat tarmac.)}

Friday 3 February - Xeraco

(Delayed posting because I only just noticed that I forgot to hit 'publish' on Friday when I wrote it.)

Where's Bertie? He's at Xeraco Campers where it's costing €17* per night, including 6A electricity, and all usual campsite facilities (including a swimming pool, should we want a cold plunge).
Weather: wall-to-wall sunshine and warm (17 degrees)

It's in some ways a shame that we'd booked this campsite, as last night's car park was so quiet and nice that we could easily have spent a couple or three days there. That said, having done so many repetitions of the seafront promenades of Farnals and Puçol, it was perhaps time to move on.

Our first move was only 2km down the road, to a Carrefour Hypermarche, where we went in armed with a short list of items, mainly things that we'd forgotten to bring with us. We came out with two of them, but having walked some significant distance. Those Hypermarches are large stores, and trying to find a pack of food-packaging-closure-clips was akin to finding a needle in a haystack.

The next stop should have been another 4k away, except the Lidl there turned out to be closed for a rebuild. We found another one half way to our destination. Not so much walking was involved there; one of the reasons I like Lidl is that they're small, compact and generally laid out similarly to each other, so no matter what country we're in, I can find stuff without too much difficulty.

It was 1pm by the time we arrived here at Xeraco Campers, and we were ready to eat a scabby dog. With Bertie plugged in and a drinking water container filled (we have both electricity and water on our pitch, which is a bonus), lunch was had, before we headed out for a little look around Platja de Xeraco (the camper park is between Platja and the town of Xeraco, but nearer to the former).

Huge beach

Goes on for some distance in the other direction too.

Unsurprisingly Platja de Xeraco is, like most beachside settlements we visit, deserted at this time of year, with few houses and flats showing signs of being inhabited and almost all businesses closed. This place seems to be more closed than most, with a Spar supermarket being the only thing we found to be open. So, it's a good job we're not here with cultural ambitions! Will six nights prove to be too long a booking? Only time will tell.

^{(*A pitch without electricity is €12.50, so it would have been more economical for us to go without power, as we won't get good value from the extra expense. But there's some (perhaps not entirely logical) thought that says that there's no point in paying for an unpowered pitch when we could park in a car park for free. So that led us to the uneconomical (for us) option of a 'standard' pitch. It is nice, however, to be sitting here with all the lights on all evening, and whilst it's only a 6A electric supply, we can run our electric kettle, hotplate and even the fan heater on low (provided we remember not to use more than one of those things at once), so it will save gas.)}

Thursday 2 February - between Playa de Puebla de Farnals & Playa de Puçol

Where's Bertie? He's in a huge grass/dirt car park fronting the promenade next to a small urbanización that lies between the bigger resorts of Farnals & Puçol. Exact location: 39.57397, -0.27820
Weather: Wall-to-wall sunshine. A frosty start again, but warming to t-shirt and light fleece weather.

It was me who lounged in bed this morning as Mick sprang up at the sound of the alarm clock. He headed out the door an hour later into another frosty morning. I soon hauled myself out of bed and set about the main task of the morning: working out where to go between now and getting to Seville in 2 weeks' time.

The result was a booking at a 'camper park' (i.e. a campsite, but only for motorhomes) starting tomorrow for six nights. It would have been seven (and thus a slightly lower per-night price) except that I accidentally counted fence posts rather than panels*.

With Mick back, a flurry of activity ensued, and with one minute to spare before our 72 hours was up, we pulled out of the Aire. Not that anything would have happened if we'd overstayed, other than that we would have been rude and inconsiderate to others who wanted our space. There were clearly quite a few people there who have taken root. It's an ongoing bugbear that many Spanish towns invest in motorhome facilities, but don't enforce the limits or rules, such that long term dwellers make it difficult for tourers to find spaces.

Where to go? We settled on driving a whole 2km to this car park that we've passed on foot quite a few times between us (but never together) over the last three days.

Motorhomes all neatly parked. Despite looking like a field, it is an official car park.

It's rather nice here - much nicer than the Aire - with access directly onto the wide seafront promenade (of which I included a photo in yesterday's post).

With my left quad not at all happy with me*, two short walks have been my only activity today.

This afternoon's stroll took us to this historic watch tower, past which we've been running, but hadn't previously stopped to read the information board. Ignoring the English section, I was chuffed (after three years of daily Spanish lessons on Duolingo) that I could read the the Spanish with only a small handful of words that I either didn't know, or couldn't recall their meanings.

Otherwise, more of the same: working on't laptop.

(Actually - one other occurrence of the day - Mick noticed the number plate of the British van two away from us (MH07 FUN (i.e. motorhome fun)), and recognised it as one we'd seen last week and to whose owners he'd chatted. He was going to go and say hello again, and assure them that we're not really following them. Fortunately they were out, as next time we passed he realised that it was one digit adrift from the one we'd seen before (MH04 FUN). A near miss on one of those incidents when you heartily greet someone in the street before realising they're not who you thought they were.)

^{(*Mick assures me that the use of this description of the error I made isn't peculiar to us, but is generally understood. I hope he's right.
*Immediately before leaving home I did a 32k run, which was my second of that length of this chunk of training, having worked gradually up there over a few months. The 32k run didn't leave me sore. Not sure whether today's extreme soreness was a result of so much sitting around, and relative lack of running, whilst travelling and (more particularly) with shingles, or whether it was the shoes I wore. They're the same shoes I'll be wearing for the marathon, so I'm not expecting to be doing much walking the day after that either.)}

Tuesday & Wednesday 31 Jan & 1 February - Puebla de Farnals

Where's Bertie? He's still at the Aire in Puebla de Farnals.
Weather: Wall-to-wall sunshine. Max of 12 degrees on Tuesday and 14 today.

Tuesday
Only a day has passed, but it's a struggle to remember what we did yesterday. There was definitely a run, during which we (separately, as our aims didn't coincide) discovered that with some boardwalks and grit walkways joining the formal promenades, it's possible to keep to the coast all the way from here to Playa to Puçol, where we stayed in January 2020. (Playa de Puçol is 5km N of here, but it then has its own 2.5km-long promenade.) 

They don't skimp on facilities for walking and cycling. You're never many paces from a litter bin either.

My turn-around point was at the very car park where we spent a couple of nights on that trip.

The other big news of yesterday was that my shingles rash improved to a remarkable degree, scabbing over and no longer being raised and angry. With the discomfort in my back almost disappearing too, I took it as an indication that it would be entirely sensible to go and run 35k today.

Wednesday
Looking at a couple of weather forecasts before I headed out the door this morning, the BBC was telling me that it was 1 degree outside and YR was saying 7 degrees. On this occasion, I knew that YR couldn't be right, as Bertie's heating (set to 8 degrees) wouldn't have kicked in at 4am and again at a quarter to seven if it had been 7 degrees out. I poked my head out the door and reported back to Mick, who was very sensibly still under the duvet: there was a frost on the grass. Meanwhile my Facebook memories of this day on three previous trips to Spain show us out and about in short sleeves (in fact, I can't think that we've ever had a frost in Spain on the coast before).

Heading out at sunrise, it didn't take awfully long for the sun to get high enough to reach me, but to my surprise the frost lasted well over an hour - making the pedestrian bridge over the motorway, with a footway formed of metal sheets, a slippery proposition.

One lap (of 2) down, I popped back to Bertie where I ditched my windshirt and gloves, proceeding in just t-shirt and cropped leggings, as by then it was perfectly warm out.

Nearly daylight

Yet more excellent walking and cycling infrastructure. Despite the lack of people in these photos, it was being put to good use.

After a thoroughly enjoyable time, I got back to Bertie with 35.5k under my belt, with only one sore quad and one little blister to show for it. I then insisted that we had enough water for me to shower, even though we hadn't put any in Bertie's tank since a week last Monday (and then we didn't even half fill it). I was right, but only just, with the water slowing to a trickle just as I was done.

As per yesterday, the afternoon was spent on the laptop; we're not being hampered by a lack of power now.

It's a pity we have to leave here tomorrow. Whilst there are quite a few negatives to this place (including the barking dog who disturbed us at various points during the night and has just started up again now), another night here would have been convenient. Tomorrow's first job will be working out where we're going next.