It was
time to leave Spain.
We had
rented an isolated cortijo in order for me to have three months of peace and
quiet to finish my third book.
Spain was a stunningly beautiful place to live
I had
achieved that goal, and we had thoroughly enjoyed our brief time in this tiny
place called San Clemente, close to a town called Huescar. Surrounded by
mountains, and a breath taking reservoir of water so blue, it looked as if
someone had added dye to it. There were acres of almond trees, blossoming pink,
stony fields, herds of sheep and goats and nothing much else, it was a truly
stunning place to live.
The San Clemente reservoir
And spectacular sunsets
Snow topped mountains
The shepherd with his roaming flock of sheep and goats
And of course, the griffon vultures!
However, lovely as it was, it wasn’t France – France had captured our hearts.
And so
came the task of loading up to travel again. Those of you who know us, will be
aware that this is a job for Steve. I am NOT, I repeat NOT permitted to load
the Land Rover as I will get it wrong and the universe as we know it will cease
to function. I am however allowed to pass things, but even this is fraught with
indecision and worry. Will I pass the wrong thing? Will I stack it all wrong
outside the waiting Land Rover? Sigh, it’s a daunting task.
Just SOME of the stuff, which had to be packed!
Steve had been sorting stuff out for many weeks prior to us leaving, so by the time we were ready to pack the vehicle, we had a veritable mountain of things to get in there. Even Steve looked a bit dubious as he eyed it up, mentally making a note of what would go where and how. I rushed about making coffee, bacon sandwiches and generally getting in the way.
“Is that
it now?” asked Steve in a clipped tone somewhere between Sam the American eagle
off Sesame Street and Doc Martin.
“Err, I
think so” I replied hopefully.
“No, I
mean is that REALLY it?” he said more forcefully – a bit more Jason Statham on
a bad day.
I looked
around nervously wondering if stuff would manifest out of the air.
“Nope” I
said with some relief, “That is IT. On no hang on, here’s my jewellery box, I
really wanted it in the front, but I’ll put it behind my seat if there’s room”
“Steve
escorted me out and pointed to exactly where I should put the box. Under close
supervision, I pushed the box in. It just about went behind the head rest, just
about.
Our trusty Land Rover, which has traveled thousands of miles with us
Steve remained unconvinced and began prowling round the house checking all the nooks and crannies. I returned to the kitchen for more coffee. I stood poised, cafetiere in hand. I stared at it almost in surprise as it dawned on me. Oh hell’s bells, I’d forgotten about this, oh and the cups we’re currently drinking coffee out of. Quickly washing them up, I also realised that the fairy liquid still stood in its usual place by the sink. Drat, this isn’t going to earn me any points. Hurriedly, I whisked them onto the “Things for packing” table and tried to pretend that they had always been there.
He was
not fooled, not for one second.
“Where’d
these come from?” said Steve suspiciously as he returned from his military
style, grid sweep of the house.
“Ahh yes,
just those and then that’s it” I said casually.
I think I
heard a growl as he picked them up and spirited them away.
“Make
sure I can find my cafetiere” I called hopefully - I don’t do well without my
coffee.
The pile
of “Things for packing” had finally been reduced to nothing. I looked on the
table for my own little pile of “Things for taking in the front with me”, but
it was no longer there. I had mouthwash, baby wipes and other useful items for
cleanliness and personal hygiene. They were gone.
“Have you
seen the mouthwash?” I asked, dreading the response.
“Was it
on the table?” asked Steve in a half accusatory tone.
“Mmm yes,
it was with my things for having in the
front with me” I explained.
“If it
was on the table; it’s packed” came the blunt, no nonsense, don’t argue about
it, answer.
“Ahh” I
said fighting an immediate urge to use some mouthwash.
And so,
we were ready to leave. Even Steve had satisfied his fear of leaving something
behind, and was stood, car keys in hand – ready.
“Oh the
rubbish” I suddenly remembered with a stab of panic.
Steve’s
face darkened, this was not part of his plan.
“WHAT
rubbish?” he demanded.
“Well,
all the rubbish” I replied, “We can’t leave it here. There’s a big black bin
liner full”
He
sighed, deeply and with great meaning. “And just WHERE exactly do you propose
we put it?” he asked with a thin smile, which was only pretending to be
friendly.
And so it
was that; we set off up the road with me sharing space with an enormous bag of
rubbish squashed on my knee. No mouthwash, but a bag of rubbish. Thankfully, it
was only about half a mile to the bins where the rubbish and I fell gratefully out
of the door together, as I rid myself of its unwanted presence. If only I’d had
some baby wipes to clean my hands!
Never
mind, we were off. We had planned to make this a trip with two overnight stops,
arriving at our destination in Brittany on day three. After all, it was a drive
of over 17 hours, which even by Steve’s standard was fairly epic.
On the road at long last
Within ten minutes of jettisoning the rubbish, I wanted coffee, but knew there was no chance of getting any for many hours yet. On long journeys, I become easily bored and tend to rummage around in my rucksack, the glove compartment and everywhere else I can reach to see what might bring me some relief from the endless journey. Aha, chewing gum. I pounced, though knew it wasn’t the same as a good cup of coffee.
“Want
some?” I asked Steve. He nodded, and in the way women do, I popped a piece in
his mouth for him as he drove.
Precisely
five minutes later, I had lost all interest in my gum as its flavour
disappeared. I rootled around until I found a bit of tissue to wrap it in and
that was that distraction over. Now what?
“Are you
getting ready for a coffee?” I asked hopefully after what I felt was a
respectable length of time.
“No” came
the one syllable response as Steve applied his concentration to the road ahead.
Well, it
was worth a try. Devoid of coffee, I tried to focus on the beauty of the
surroundings as we drove through mountains, fields, valleys, gorges and more.
It truly was a lovely area, and while we were sad to leave Spain, we were
doubly excited to be on our way back to France.
Great scenery
Without any warning, a car pulled out in front of us. Steve braked and my jewellery box dislodged itself and bonked me on the back of the head.
“Ouch” I
exclaimed rubbing my head.
“You
okay?” asked Steve concerned.
“I’m fine
thanks, I’ll just stick this box back up there”. I wriggled around in my seat
and managed to poke the box back into its tiny space.
“There” I
said, “It’s back”.
Settling
once again to the splendour of the drive, it wasn’t long before the vibration
of the Land Rover shook the box free again and BANG, it bonked me on the back
of the head yet again.
“You only
packed one thing” said Steve in exasperation.
He was
right. Despite his supervision, the one item I packed was an utter failure!
Sigh, not one thing he packed ever moved, not for 17 long hours.
Finally,
it was time for coffee and I had to restrain myself from falling weeping at the
feet of the man who sold it to me. Like I said, I do not do well without my
coffee.
Back on
the road again, the boredom soon set in. I remembered the gum.
“Want
some more gum?” I asked.
“Still
got this piece” came the laconic response.
How does
that work? I mean it can’t possibly have any flavour left whatsoever AND he had
a coffee!
After
about 8 hours of driving, we reached our initial destination, the Salles
Airport Hotel in Girona. We had stayed here before and liked it a lot. If you
ever need to fly out of Girona, this is an ideal hotel. Very close to the
airport, with lots of parking, decent rooms, and a spa; we loved it.
Once we’d
dumped our bags, we headed for the restaurant – both more than ready for a
proper meal. I noted with some amazement that Steve finally got rid of his
chewing gum – seriously?
We
studied the menu and had a discussion, which went a bit like this.
Steve; I’ll
have that chicken if it’s boneless (Steve does not eat food, which contains,
bones OR skin)
Me; Well,
I can ask.
Steve;
Yes, but I ONLY want it, if it’s boneless with no skin either. I don’t want it
if it’s got bones or skin on.
Me; Yes,
I know, this is not the first time I’ve ordered food for you.
I was
pleased to see that the same waiter worked there as the last time we stayed. He
spoke perfect English, which was a huge bonus as I have no Spanish whatsoever.
“Hi there”
I said brightly, “Do you remember us? We stayed here a few months ago”. The man
smiled warily; clearly he did not remember us, but nodded politely and
pretended that he did.
Pointing
to the menu I asked, “Is this chicken boneless?” He leaned in, studied it for a
moment and declared, “Yes madam, boneless”. I nodded, “Aha, so, just to
clarify, it has no bones in it at all, it’s a chicken filet?” He drew himself
up an inch or two before answering, “No bones in it madam, no”. Smiling in
relief that there was something Steve would actually eat, I continued, “Great,
then we’ll have one chicken, and one risotto thank you”.
We weren’t
done yet.
“Do you
have decaffeinated coffee?” I asked hopefully.
“Yes
madam, decaffeinated coffee is available.
“Wonderful”
I exclaimed a bit too enthusiastically, “One decaf coffee and one white wine
then”.
As we
waited for our food, we relaxed and chatted about our trip, with that feel good
feeling you get when things are actually going to plan. Steve drank his coffee
and I enjoyed my glass of wine. The food arrived; my risotto looked lovely, but
as the waiter put the chicken in front of Steve, we exchanged a weary look.
Yes, you’ve guessed it, it was ON the bone, clearly NOT boneless. I sighed, “Give
it to me” I said as I began separating the unfortunate fowl from its bones. I
handed it back to Steve, NOW it was boneless!
Later on,
and by later on I mean four o’clock in the morning, we had a discussion;
Steve; “Are
you awake?”
Me; “Well,
I wasn’t, but I am now”
Steve, in
a tight voice; “I’ve not been to sleep yet”
I shook
my head in silent sympathy
Me; “Coffee wasn't decaf then?” I said, stating the obvious.
Steve; “Nope”
came the reply
Why was I
not surprised.
The next
day after precious little sleep, Steve was ready to roll again. It didn’t take
us very long to leave the country of Spain behind for good. As we crossed the Spanish
French border and saw the mountains of France come into view, along with the familiar
road signs, the space and the beauty of it all, we felt like we had come home.
We had another
day of travel, staying overnight in Niort before finally setting off on day
three to our real destination.
Brittany.
Coming
next ………………… signing for our new home and moving in J
Check out
my website at www.freyabarrington.com
Or visit
my Facebook page and give it a like J
All the
best
Freya
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