Elbows again!!!!

Quick hits.

Its been a while since I last wrote so here's a few fast thoughts.

Its very, very windy here!

                                                                      Montanejos

Spain is a big country, its scenery changes dramatically, sometimes just around the next corner. The road from Montanejos to Teruel was great, nice smooth fresh tarmac, then suddenly it wasn't. In the blink of an eye I was back in Spain circa 1965. Single track, rough surfaced road.

                                                    Olba on the 'main' road to Teruel

When its windy, every little squeak in the van drives you in sane at night when all you need is peace and quiet.

Sliding doors in vans again!! Right next to me..... The biggest car park at Siurana, and he chooses to park right behind me! (Ben. American, and really nice)

I'm aching, tired and down. But its been a sunny blue sky day, all be it a touch too windy to enjoy it. Tomorrow looks better. I will feel better too.

I miss the kids and Mom.

I thought of work for a second yesterday. I think I'd been talking to Themi about flying?


My elbow is very sore. I appear to be making things worse and it hurts a lot. I'm in Cafe2013 in Cornudella de Montsant, surrounded by gorgeous scenery, in warm sunshine and I feel shit.

Siurana. I feel like a diabetic in a snickers factory right now.... All this glorious sunny rock and a buggered elbow. I keep banging it on things. Mostly the van seats plastic arm rest. It hurts a lot and I'm worried. I admit it. I've had a lot of good advice from various sources but at the moment, it still feels like a knife going into the bone when I make a wrong move. Its worse in the mornings. It really hurts, not just an ache, like right now while I type this for instance, it's just there, I can feel it but its bearable. I'm scared I may be doing too much to it. Warm it with gentle exercise, stretch it, weighted dumbell, light weight, and only one end to work the correct tendons. Rubbing oil in for heat, then ice pack on it, later more heat, encourage the good blood. Stretches, various, gentle and regular...... I'd love to speak to Chyro Tim about it. I trust him.

I left Chulilla on Wednesday morning and haven't found wifi to blog with, or the necessary motivation to write too much till now. Its hard to be around friends when they're all high on the routes they've climbed today, and the plans for the next day. I'll be honest here, the numbers do matter, of course they do. Until I can't improve and recognise that I have begun the period in my life when I can't get better, then the numbers matter. Not always of course, not any more. A great route has always made me laugh and smile whatever the grade, but when you make hard sustained moves and hang on to top out, or clip the chains, it feels a bit special. So yes, when I stop believing the numbers matter, I'll lose a little self competition and in my own way I'll be admitting a little defeat.

I remember discussing this trip with work friends, and also the timing of it, from an age perspective. The way I feel now, with the elbow and the tooth starting to ache a little (I'm beginning to wander if the tooth is now carrying a mild infection and its making me feel generally a bit crap?), I can honestly say that from a purely physical point of view, I wish I'd done this years ago. When the energy of youth knows no bounds. When you're fearless and indestructible. When if the shit does hit the fan, you can call Mom and Dad. The conclusion was then, for me, and I have held this opinion for as long as I can remember, that yes I have a little more financial security than a 20 something on a gap year, yes I have done the kids thing and my 2 babies are up and self sufficient with kids of their own. but;

I worry more. I see the dangers. I see the potential for fuck ups.
I ache more. I want to climb more than 5 or 6 routes a day, but know I'll pay for it later.
God I get tired after hard routes! Properly tired, in a good way but buggered!
I need more rest days, and I take longer to recover. Actually, maybe I just need to get fitter!
I want bed at 10, not a party.
I want one, maybe 2 glasses of red, not 6 pints and a joint.
And I'm a little bit scared at times.

My ability to bounce back is going.
In your 20's. That's the time. Your time. I know we as parents worry about our young adult children, but how else do they get life experience? When else can you discover who you are, what you like, who you like? When are you supposed to gather all that learning about people and places, caution and trust?

Life. I think that decade is for self discovery, to gather all the experience needed to be a good useful and experienced rounded adult from then on. It doesn't work for all of us that way and that's great because where would we be if every one just travelled and had gap years in their 20's!!! Some have to stay and do stuff. Work. Have a family, and there are massive benefits to doing things that way round, I know :)  But, my point is that if you can, if you have the support needed, or the urge to do it. Then do it. Go and see places and do things that you otherwise might never get the chance to do again. Go to strange exotic places and meet new weird wonderful, bad and good people. It will be mostly good and it will be huge fun, with blurry moments and forgotten days in a haze, but fuck it. Just do it.

I'm just thinking out loud here.... Its just me, my opinion.

                                                                 Casteletto


Yesterday I felt scared. I parked in what was a great spot just outside Casteletto by a lovely azure blue lake, just at dusk. I'm slightly concerned about the wild camping thing here especially alone, so I parked the van behind a bank of earth hidden from the view of passing cars.. But something wasn't right and I didn't feel good at all. I ended up driving another 30 km into Alcazin looking for the eco campsite there. That took two goes to find and in the end, in pitch blackness, I parked round the back behind the fence surrounding the site in a car park marked 'camping 2-parking'. Felt ok to me and I slept well till about 6.30 when yet another howling Spanish gale woke me up rattling the bike cover like it was about to be torn to ribbons.

                                                           The blue lake near Casteletto

I have a thing about the dark I think. I've never been a big fan of getting caught on the hill at night, though I have been. When I climb I like to get back to the car before its dark and always have, except once or twice in winter. And at times like this, driving in a strange country, and even in the UK in an area I don't know, I like to find somewhere to settle down in daylight. Tuesday night in Chulilla, the guys were still walking back at 8, fully in the dark. I was ready to go and look for them, but I was in a minority of one in the worry department.... They were fine.

I guess part of this fear is natural. I'm alone and there is certainly security in numbers when parked up in a camper van.

So, here I am, thinking about my next move. I'm trying to wait a little, take stock and not get carried away by my own feelings of self pity and see what options turn up. This elbow is just what I feared may happen on this trip, an injury that stops me climbing. I have to change the view point, change the direction. Do I just travel, drive home to Greece? Bail out, park up and fly home to get some TLC and fix this thing properly? Or wait, see what happens and wing it?

                                                                         Siurana

                                               One of the Siurana crags at sunset.

                                      Renault take over the top car park to shoot an advert!!!


Now, its time to get back on my bike and cycle in the warm sun to the van parked up the hill to Siurana.

Climbing paradise.

Elbow!

I learned yesterday that the weekends are busy, that maybe they're best avoided and left for the sole preserve of the locals.

Actually, they pretty much do that by default anyway, certainly at the crag we chose today!

Neither Steve or I were especially motivated this morning so we chose to go to a classic 2 pitch climb at Canaveral sector called Dinasourio Blanco. A 7a+ first pitch for Steve to bag and a 7b+ extension for me to attempt, having already done the exquisite lower section.

When we arrived on a chilly breezy morning the lines were all taken and due to the lack of a readily available warm up we chose to wait while the 3 guys on Blanco 'warmed up' on it. I attempted to run around a bit, flapping arms and jumping about like a loon to get the blood flowing... While we waited the crowds continued to arrive, along with assorted dogs milling around and barking, plus the continuous trickle of walkers taking a stroll along the gorge, and their assorted dogs milling around and barking, adding to the canine chaos already present.

The time arrived and I eased my cold feet into my Boostiks to begin the climb, taking the easy left hand option to the first difficulties at the bulge by the third clip.... I teetered up all stiff and cold, placing my toes on a polished nubbin to reach up from a good left hand, searching for something for my right. As I fumbled my foot popped off and I whacked my right elbow on the rock as I fell, partly catching myself on my good left hand, and partly on the tight rope as Steve took a step back so I could avoid hitting the ledge below. It was one of those 'mommy daddy mommy daddy' moments when the pain in the elbow was so sore that I could barely talk. The embarrassment of coming off on the local warm up placed a distant second to the realisation that this could be game over for a while.

Those of you reading this from the climbing wall in Glasgow will know I've been nursing golfers elbow since about October..... And those from work may remember me stretching my arms on the console...? It was that elbow, on the right arm. Of all the places, of all the various falling limbs, bones, joints and tendons that I could have bashed on the rock.....Why this one?

Sod's Law.

Two dogs started to mate, a lovely soft eyed black Lab bitch that reminded me instantly of Afton (RIP) was being serviced down by the rivers edge ...... Then some other males fancied a go too......
I was angry, sore and utterly pissed off with everything and everyone, especially things with four legs running around tripping me up while I was belaying Steve and generally being A FUCKING NUISANCE!!!!!! Steve remained annoyingly mellow.... Canadians eh!

After Steve had made it to the lower off, I jumped on to see how the elbow felt, just as the sun split the sky and warmed me to the core. Lovely. Suitably heated I flowed nicely up to the chains and lowered back down to the ground. Apart from the obvious the rest of my ageing carcass felt great. It is a lovely pitch. But no, no more climbing for me today. Or tomorrow. RICE! Or as many elements of RICE as I can. I dunked my elbow in the river for some instant relief. Some guy asked if he could nip onto the route while Steve rested before his red-point. Of course we obliged only to watch the cheeky bugger carry on past the chains to attempt the extension!!!

By this point both Steve and I had had enough. I'd shouted some top-of-my-voice foul mouthed abuse at a couple of dogs running around my ankles as I ate my snacks, their owners only took notice for a
millisecond and then ignored the angry little tourist.

The crowds, the dogs, the pain, the cheeky bastard now dangling at the 7b+ crux. AGAIN.....
We packed up. I put my climbing shoes back on and solo'd up to retrieve our single clip on the first bolt, not something I would normally do while the route was occupied but by now, honestly, I had to go. I down climbed and we beat a hasty retreat....

I watched Interstellar and an episode of Breaking Bad in the van after a wander into town with the gang to see what a Chulilla fiesta looked like. I discovered that they don't really get going till after midnight, but boy do they get going.... The band was still playing at 4.30 the next morning.... Class!

                                         Gerd, Nic, Nicole, Stephan, Per, Steve, Ciaran and Toby

So today I pottered about my little home, Steve popped in for breakfast about 1030, looking a bit worse for wear after a few beers last night. I took the bike down, oiled and lubricated the chain and took my first ride on Spanish soil after lunch. It was windy and while it pushed me along nicely going out of town, I was getting ready for the grind when I turned the corner. I put my head down and switched off, just pushing and pulling, trying not to stress the elbow and just keep the bike upright. I 'think' when I'm in cycling into wind mode... I do it when I'm running too, and even hill walking when I'm on auto-pilot... I suspect everyone has these times. Frustratingly I also do it when I go to bed and usually fail to switch my head off just when I want to sleep. The other place I think is in the shower but I'm not doing that so often as I used to haha.

                                          Almonds

                                          Oranges

As I cycled out of Losa the strangest, weirdest thing happened. I saw a yellow post box and suddenly remembered that my friend and work colleague Karen McCabe had asked me to send a card... So I filed the post box location and card connection into memory (no doubt to forget again), and then literally 10 seconds later I got a message. I guessed it would be Themi so I stopped to check and yep, it was Karen, saying hello, she'd read the blog, sending best wishes to Themi and asking how's things. SPOOKY!!!!!!! I'll buy a card.

Head down, steady pace. Thinking time. How do I feel? What do I feel? Why do I feel this or that? Time to admit some shortcomings and accept some home truths.

Itchy feet for one. It'll soon be time to move. Maybe I can rest the arm for a day or two while driving somewhere new? I know I haven't yet achieved what I wanted to here but does that really matter?
Is it too 'nice' here, too easy? Or is it just a lovely place? A good parking spot. A friendly cafe with wi-fi... Good weather. People I know... Hmmmmmm.

I have to go solo in the van too. I have to admit that sharing this small space is not going to work for me. If Themi was here then of course it would work, but she's not and this little box on wheels is all I have, my home for now, a fragile van delicately balancing power in and power out, waste and water, food space, living space, breathing space. All are at a premium in here and sharing it with someone who doesn't feel it, doesn't have an interest in it, hasn't had to put any effort, time and finance into it to get it working as well as it does, and for who something breaking doesn't really matter, is, for me, difficult.

I am feeling strangely embarrassed about admitting that, and thought long about expressing it in writing. But can you understand what I mean? Its like letting someone else drive JJ.... Its like that sports car you cherish, your lovely horse or anything else you get attached to, dare I say, fall in love a little bit with. Other people won't understand the way you feel about it, they may even gently mock you, but it is what it is right... Its yours. Its special to you and hey, we don't care what you think about it anyway :) One day, I hope, I think I know it will happen, and then the penny will drop.

Steve has been superb, very helpful and very very understanding. He gives me as much space as possible (I realise there are loads of jokes here....feel free :), so it's not him as such, it would be anyone. Unless it had been planned together, built together as a joint venture from the beginning, then I think sharing would be difficult with anyone but Themi or family.


Hey, you...
Yes you ya cheeky malaka!!!!!!!!

I hope you fell off the last move on your last red-point!!!!

Rest Days

I've been trying to work out the best sequence of days on to days off.... So today is a rest day after 2 days climbing. Wednesday was the 'good day' I mentioned last time, yesterday was a really nice day in every respect, but not so good.... The numbers are irrelevant, its the way I felt that made it less than perfect.

First excuse; Dogs barking, well one dog actually, all night. So lacking sleep to begin with the omens were not good.

Second excuse; Golfers elbow. I felt it today, probably after so much cranking on it on Wednesday.... Bleedin obvious right!!!!

Third excuse; Themi has not been feeling good and has been to see the doctor. This has been on my mind. Being miles away having fun while the one you love is not well is hard. She says she'll be fine, that she's ok and not to worry. Ok.

The regulation 6b+ warm up this morning went really well, I even jumped off a couple of times to instil the required bravery to take the falls. Steve on the end of the rope.

Next up a glorious looking line on Pared El Farante (sic) which went at 7a+ and not without a massive struggle. I don't know why I do this, but as usual, I got to the hard moves, saw how to do them, and then spent 10 precious minuets trying to find an easier way! Eventually as power was slowly ebbing away (just to give the route a fighting chance) I managed to make the move and battled my way to the top, managing to do it cleanly but not in any way a good style. As is always the case, Steve cruised it with ease. Bastard.

We left the dusty crag and strolled back toward the car park end of the ridge, me with my tale between my legs. Steve put the clips in the (excellent) Blue Agave for us and we chatted with Per and Anka while they climbed next to us. As the climbing day slowly crawled to a close, Per put the clips in another excellent fingery and technical 7a/+ which Steve and I both dispatched before we all went back to the vans.

We cooked up boiled potatoes, steamed broccoli and fried up 2 chorizo sausages in garlic and a Chinese soup mix (thanks Themi) as a sauce and I have to say it all worked really well and tasted aweome. I think since travelling like this and being active everyday in some way, my diet has improved a fair bit. The only possible negative is slightly more bread and cheese but driving through France, who could resist. Fresh local produce is readily available and super cheap here at the Chulilla market (every Thursday, get there at 10).

I think, and I may be wrong, but I think I can see the start of the old 6-pack returning :) Also a very grey beard....Oh well, can't have everything!

Friday morning dawned chilly but sunny, not a cloud in the clear blue sky... Praise the Lord for days like these..!!! Coffee and breakfast, a quick stretch and a chat with Lucy Creamer in the car park, then Steve and I strolled through the town to the other car park for a coffee with Marco, Miha, and Rok. Its Rok's last day today. It's been great to meet him. He was so friendly on my first day, Miha too. Nicer guys it would be hard to meet and I've so enjoyed the time I've spent with them both.

The joyous side of these trips is not just the sun and warm rock, but the people.

After doing the van's chores, water and waste, I did some laundry. Just the essentials but it would appear to me that I'm learning fast how to be economical with my clothing! Or stinking like a dirt bag... But honestly, I don't think I smell too bad considering. Really! General good hygiene, the odd shower and/or a good wash and smellies applied as usual and I reckon its all ok. The base layer seems to be top quality and doesn't seem to smell...... Or, maybe I'm just not trying hard enough!!!!

Laundry done, Nic gave me a hand getting the solar panel up on the roof, while Gerd was enjoying his particular version of a 'rest day'.... Maybe that's why he's working 8a+'s and I'm not......?

Bugger!

                                                    Gerd's rest day.......

                                         Mikes rest day :)
                                         Gerd can just be seen resting in the background!

                  A beautiful view of Chulilla.. spoiled by some bearded Canadian scruff bag!!

Coffee at Miha's place.

Home.

Firstly, today has been a good day.

5 routes climbed today with Per from Sweden, he's parked next to me and wins the 'best van in the car park' competition. By a long way!

In terms of numbers it went 6b/6b+/7b/7b+/7b. The latter being a flash, the others all on-sight. Considering yesterday I felt poorly (I'm blaming the water) and was a grumpy old man, today is a good day.

I carried a bit of guilt with me as it feels like I almost forced Steve to go to Valencia today. I feel pretty bad for that, even though it probably was the best thing to do, I still feel like an ass.

Its a bunch of mixed emotions in here right now. Themi having blood tests, Steve. Life in the van and the absolute need for personal space. Car park behaviour. The usual kind of thing!

I've learned loads so far... I've learned that sliding doors on panel vans ARE HIDIOUS!!!!
First they try it quietly...... Second go, they try a bit harder.....Third go they slam it. Please you fuckers!!!!!! Hit it first time. There are about 10 vans with sliding doors. Assholes!!! I'm only joking (of course).

When Steve arrived it reminded me how down to earth he is and how approachable he is. He sorted out the tent so we could each have our space.... He may have read my mind. Its like 'home' in the van......... A small home and its a difficult juggling act to live in there when its all I have. He understands and I'm grateful for that. Which makes me feel even more of a shit about today :(

Steve at home in the van...


I've been asked a lot about where I'm from. I say Scotland, which leads to the comment about my accent and 'where's home?'

I've found myself wandering about this very question since I left. Actually, probably before that.
Where is home? Is it a place? A person?

I know what the normal accepted idea of home is. I've been there. A house, with the family, in a place I know, a place I came back to after work. THE place we come back to.

But looking at things now, where I am now, I wander if I'm Scottish? English? Or as my passport says, British? Isn't home where you grow up and stay? I grew up in The Midlands, with the kids I went to school with... Is that home?

At 14 years old (Jan 11th 1977) the family moved to Huntly in Aberdeenshire. Here I finished off school, was regularly picked on for being English, and as if being English wasn't enough, a religious boy as well. Is that home?

Then, a few years serving Queen and country moving from place to place, camp to camp, barracks to married quarters. That's not home. NATS and Kilmarnock, Prestwick, Aberdeen....back home to Aberdeen. Back home. There you go. Aberdeen must be home right? Maybe. I certainly feel Scottish. I certainly say I'm Scottish. I love Aberdeenshire, it is in its own way, a very nice, pretty county. But Aberdeen you can keep. Grey, dreich, and up itself, in a big way.

Home. It confuses me to think of the places I've called home. Number 24 was the longest I've stayed in one place and was close to Mom and both the families, and its also where everything changed.

So I come back to that question. Place or person.
Could you feel at home anywhere as long as you were with someone special?

I remember October 2001 and the first time I went to Kalymnos. It felt like home immediately
Now in every sense of the word it IS home. The place. The person.

Home. It's where the heart is.

Stuff and things

I don't really know where to start this one......
In trying to summarise the last 3 days, I've decided I'm not sure how much to share and how much to keep to myself. Maybe there's a compromise? I'll see how it flows..........

I'm in Chulilla, amongst friends and climbers, yet these past few days I've exhausted myself in every way possible and while today is a rest day, I feel utterly worn out. I almost hope it rains tomorrow.

Friday and Saturday I climbed with Ciaran, and the Scottish front joined forces with the French and had a couple of good days climbing. The sun shone on Friday and we climbed ok in fine temperatures and even managed a decent 1st redpoint of a route called Happy End (7c). It surprisingly nice to be able to let you know the route name and not just the number. Ciaran has enjoyed pushing himself and finding that he's way better than he thinks he is.

We've talked at length about stuff and things, and have a similar past in some ways, a past that has undoubtedly made us both who we are today, whether we like it or not. We're also built the same, a proper pair of lightweights! Here's a quick plug for his blog. There's some nice photo's and some interesting honest and frank writing. http://ciro-arrampicata.blogspot.co.uk/

Ciaran, taking a natural rest!


Saturday was chilly and breezy, after yesterdays redpoint and the effort involved, I found it hard to get moving, even after the long walk into Oasis (for me anyway). The first route we did was a 6b+, climbed in 5 layers including my small silver duvet jacket, phone, gloves, car keys and cash still in the pockets. In all honesty, right then, I could have curled up and just given up for the day.... Things elsewhere coupled with the way my body felt and the weather, had left me feeling like doing anything else but climb. I found my best stiff upper lip and carried on, and of course, things got a little better. Ciaran's enthusiasm and my own instinct got us up another 6b+ of epic proportions, including monster almost Kalymnian-standard tufa trunks. Next up, a cheeky 7a+ followed by the excellent Sendorosa Luminosa, as recommended by Dave Marsh (Yes its pretty good Dave but there are many better ones). Ciaran linked both pitches for a 50 metre mammoth expedition to the top of the crag and a cool 7B on sight.

The social side of things here is excellent, but there's a bit of a balancing act to perform. All the things I want to do, the priorities I have, and the hours remaining in the day haven't gelled as yet. The morning routines are very much 'student hours', if you know what I mean. Most folks leave for the crag late morning or lunchtime and return as darkness falls meaning little time to eat, tidy up, re pack and plan for the next day or the rest day. It also means by the time I get to the cafe in the evening its full and busy and difficult to find a private corner, especially when I want to chat a bit, get some beta, and here all the news of the days climbs. And to try and fit in.

My body clock is settling, the morning 'routine' is becoming happily regular, and bar the odd noisy van full of noisy and irresponsible people using the place as their own holiday camp, and the side of my van as a back rest... I wake up about 8 and have a coffee in bed before getting up and making breakfast and getting ready for the day. That's pretty much long before everyone else but that's the way it goes and so be it.

Sunday was hot and sunny, but still I walked up in the thermal top and jeans I've been wearing for the past 2 days. Steve is here, all teeth and beard with that happy chatty face and vibe. The stories flowed and the chat was good. It is good to see him and to have that upbeat character about the place. We headed up to a close crag and did a little climbing (Presicrak was brilliant at an easy though intimidating 6c). Rok joined us and all in all we had a short but good day. Again I struggled at the start to get moving, the heat was an issue early on so we sought the shade.

Steve Shoe. Plus beard!!


I'm finding so far that the body is slower to move into climbing mode than usual, especially on day 2 and 3 after a rest. I am open to different ideas about climb/rest day combinations and I'll vary things to see what suits me best as and when. The diet is good, much better than before and there's so much less rubbish being consumed... The slow creep to better fitness is undoubtedly on-going, from within as well as from the climbing.

There has been some interesting debates about the car park scene, and the refugio lack-of-a-scene. There are some that think its wrong to set up a climbers camp in the car park, stating the human mess we leave behind as the main argument against..... this while they 'go to the toilet' at the crag willy nilly!!! What's worse? Discuss.

For me I'm self contained and self sufficient in as far as all my waste is on board and dumped in a place designed for the purpose. The vans and tents? Well maybe there is a little more to say there and a thoughtful approach to waste needs to be discussed and adopted. Ciaran and I tidied up a broken bag of rubbish left behind by one van, probably by accident but there are varying standards amongst us it appears, those of us in the 'leave no trace' camp and a minority in the 'couldn't give a fuck' department..... It looks to me like it could be divided into nationalities. Nuff said.

Gerd, Nic, Steve and I have chatted about the refugio. Its a bit like Fort Knox and sits on top of the knoll overlooking Chulilla, surrounded by a fence and a locked gate. Not very welcoming. Off-putting in fact. It used to be an informal camping spot in pre refugio days. We think it makes obvious sense to open it up, make it a focal point and let the vans and campers park up there. The refugio could be the centre of things and a really vibrant healthy scene could be encouraged, not to mention the chance for a little money to be made if the charges are not stupid...

Hilltop Refugio


If only they could see these things. We're not here free-loading, we're not here to make a mess (most of us). I and many others spend our money in the cafe, the market and the bar in return for the honour of climbing on wonderful rock, by a pretty little Spanish village, in a beautiful part of the world.

As for the other 'stuff and things' and what to share and what to keep?
I've shared it with those that need to know, and as we go on, we live and learn. Every day's a school day as the saying goes. Some of us learn more slowly than others that's for sure, but I am learning.

Bar El Canton, mid afternoon.

This evening Steve and I had an interesting chat over dinner about the important things in life. About home and place, about love and life, child hood and growing up. More on that when I've had enough vino tinto to lubricate the fingers!

S agapo xx

Meat!

And it rained, and rained and rained today.

I got a little bored, I made coffee, I tidied up the van, did a few domestics....

Didn't take long, its not very big :)

Miha and Rok turned up for a coffee about 1130 and I sold Miha a pair of climbing shoes from my collection. There really is Scottish blood in me somewhere.

I'd mentioned that I needed to try again to get a Spanish sim card and Tobias mentioned he had to fly home, so it made sense to give him a lift to the airport. With Sparky's past history I was scared he wouldn't start after 5 days sat doing nothing and I'd be hunting for a volunteer to help jump start. Nose in of course, just for full awkwardness.....

But, first turn of the key he leapt into life and purred like the fine tuned Italian thoroughbred he is... Ok ok, the Fiat Ducato... Diesel.

Honestly, I think he likes me.... I think we're developing some kind of 'van - man' relationship. I fix the odd little thing and tidy up, and he rewards me with faultless behaviour. He positively purred along the CV35 down into Valencia while Tobias and I chatted away, and Toby even commented on how good he was. We felt so proud :)

We were on the look out for low bridges at the airport but no harm became us and it was one of the easiest airport drop-offs of recent history. I like Tobias a lot. A strikingly handsome chap with piercing blue eyes (don't get too big headed now Toby), but really nice, polite and charming with it. We chatted about coming to Kalymnos in the autumn. If he comes I'll direct him to another store I think....!

I'm growing very fond of my German friends, apart from those that don't like me blocking there view of course, They have had a heavy historical weight to carry, and finally there are signs in the younger generations at least, that its lifting. I'm not a political beast at all, I just know what I see and hear, and every one of the guys and girls I've met has been humorous, warm, and super bright too, very aware of world politics and of course shaming us 'Brits' with excellent English.... And all the Czech's and Slovenians here are all so warm and friendly too, again with superb English. I wish we were taught a language in primary.... and I wish it wasn't a subject choice in secondary. We are so far behind the rest of Europe with language. I do feel a tinge of embarrassment everywhere I go to be honest.
I picked Greek. I like a challenge!!

Back up to Lliria and the second episode off 'Spanish sim'. Passport eventually retrieved from a reluctant safe that refused point blank to open for feckin ages, and off I jogged to battle the lingo at Vodafone. Some time later I left armed with a whole Gigabite of data, and Themis on the facebook phone.

Together we roamed the isles of Carrefour trying to get pin numbers working, laughing like drains at the row upon row of meat in all shapes and sizes, fish of every kind perched on trays just behind the meat counters. I told her what I needed and she would tell me the Spanish and I walked from isle to isle looking for my washing powder, shower gel and filter coffee, all the while talking a weird combination of English, bad Greek, and terrible Spanish as I went. We had a ball, and its hard to believe we were so far apart. It was a fun way to spend half an hour.

The drive back to Chulilla was fine. I really enjoyed being out in the van today and felt like once Steve arrives, we'll climb for a week to ten days max and hopefully move onto to a new challenge. I feel my itchy feet kicking in (could be the new cleanliness regime?) and driving today was an enjoyable reminder that there are many more places to see.

I emptied the grey tanks and loo and managed to be brave and park in the square for a little while as I filled the fresh water tank from the spring. Nobody seemed to mind and the lady from the Tabac even stopped to say buenos dias, como esta as she walked to the store. Miha had happened along and was holding the hose into the van while I pressed the tap in. This process took longer than I'd hoped but eventually I squeezed Sparky through the main street, back to the car park where I played among the remaining spaces to try and find the best, most level spot, without a huge puddle!

Job done, it was dinner time, and then a stroll down to the pub to write, sip the nice house plonk and try and converse with Mr Suay. Its hard but entertaining.

The forecast is good.

Tomorrow, we climb. I'm going to dig out my shorts tonight :)

 Tobias and Nic

Miha at the wheel of his van

Rest Day

Today it rained.
We knew it would.
I think it will rain tomorrow as well, but the next few days from Friday should be clear and warm :)

Natures way of making us rest.

Miha, Rok and I went into Lliria on the outskirts of Valencia today for a little shopping, and I scoped out a sim card for the phone. You need a passport apparently.... Who knew?

Yesterday after a lazy morning Nic and I climbed at the crag below the car park and I for one had a pleasant surprise. Being so close to the cars the easier routes were, as expected, a little polished, but the extensions to the 2 central routes were brilliant pitches and well worth the effort to climb the first pitches, which were actually pretty good value in themselves once you learn to trust the footwork and believe they will not slip. The 7a extension was a brilliant piece of climbing and to me felt a bit harder then 7a, but my God it was good. So good in fact I'd happily do it again. I found myself beginning to flow today, and cranked out the moves on a technical 7a+ without feeling too shaky or nervous, and the muscles all seemed to be working as directed.

Turned out to be a good day, I enjoyed Nic's company, and Keiran, a fellow Scot, plus a couple of French guys, and a poorly Nicole made for some nice chat between routes, and a few non bum shot photo's for a change. Later Nic Gerd Tobias and I gathered in Nic's van and chatted for a while. One of the things I've enjoyed very much over the last couple of years since making the leap into solo travelling has been meeting the different people along the way, the multi national banter and they way we all discuss our national idiosyncrasies after we've got used to each others company a little. In Kalymnos, I know many people moan a little about the crowded crags, but most of the time I like the laughter, the smiles, the happy faces of people of a like mind enjoying the wonderful climbing and unique location that Kalymnos offers. Here it's similar, without the beach, but a fine vibe floats around the car park....

And some very fine vans. I've become super interested in what people have done to their vans. Keiran's is very cool and all done with his own fair hand. Brilliant. One or two simply sleep in cars. 20's some-things.... They can put up with that :) Right now my 'van' is the only purpose built home on wheels... I'm slightly jealous of the smaller vans and there simplicity and useful size. Then I get into mine, put the heating on and crawl into my bed and I'm happy enough having to go slowly and avoid low bridges. Part of me does wish for a Nic style conversion, or a T5... Oh for a sexy T5.

Most of the visitors I've noticed here are 20 some-things, as expected, but scattered among them are people like me. Late 40's, early 50's, and a surprisingly large scattering at that... 20 percent of those here are probably the older variation. I look at them and wander what their story is.... Why are they here? Is it a climbing vacation (turns out for Tobias it is indeed that)? What brings you here? Maybe over the days and weeks we'll chat and discover our life stories. Or maybe it's nobody's business but there's. Me, as many of you know.... I'm an open book and if you ask I will usually explain, or offer a reason, especially if I see you as open too. I am more guarded these days and like to get to know a little about people if I don't pick up that nice vibe straight away...

Tuesday was spent climbing with Gerd and Rok again over at sector sexhop. I still felt a little clunky though enjoyed La Diagonal a lot. A wonderful climb with a very trad Scottish feel to it. I was even forced to hand jam. Twice! I tried a cool long 7a+ a while after though took a rest and a 7b next, which I should have done clean but bottled it on one feckin move... I knew then that things were beginning to feel right and I hope to get the chance to go and do these routes clean. Next to the 7a+ is a fine looking 7c that I fancy doing.

One thing I am missing is a guide book. I'm at the mercy of internet topo's as the locla guide is sold out, and out of print. Its massively out of date anyway but would have been nice to read through and get a feel for the area as a whole. But I feel pretty relaxed about it and I'm happy for now to go along woth those in the know and find out about the place over the next few days and discover where I like, who I like, and where the best routes are.

All in all the feeling is relaxed and the atmosphere very nice indeed. I like it here. I like everyone I've met here. Once I can get a little more communication organised then things will be better and the the topo's more readily available. My memory for routes and names is poor at the best of times, so an evening crammed with interweb route names is pretty soon forgotten I'm afraid.

Tomorrow will be sim card take 2. A trip in Sparky the van and maybe a slightly different space in the car park as a large puddle has appeared right by the door since the rain began, and I think perhaps I'm a little too close to the path really...  It will be good to take him for a drive again, if he starts. It'll help charge up the batteries and I might also be able to find somewhere safe to empty the waste water tanks, maybe even the loo cassette. Topping up with water would be good too but I've easily adapted to, how to put this..... a less scrupulously clean lifestyle than is usual in a normal house. It seems to have come quite naturally!!!!

Water conservation, battery conservation, laundry prevention.

These things have become more of a priority now. Make do and mend. Smell with everyone else. never look in a mirror.

Wonderful :)

On the rock

Chulilla. Day 1.

A strange day!

In as far as, I felt strange, not the day itself. It being Sunday (I had to check what day it was).

I met the 3 Slovenian's at 9.30. Roko and I teamed up while the other two ( Andriz and Mijka... I think) went off to crank out some silly numbers. I just went with them, they joked about selling my kidneys... Its amazing how we trust our fellow climbers for the most part, and I guess you have an instinct for people, and these guys seemed good. They made me laugh and we had a good day. They were kind, modest and warm, and good climbers.

In the last diary post I mentioned similarities to Kalymnos, and this morning I felt that very strongly. But it seemed strange to be doing this without Themi. I know to many of you this will sound cheesy, but because it felt so similar, the missing element was Themi. I'm not saying Rocko was ugly or anything and we made a good safe team, but you know what I mean :) Truth is I miss her very much. Simple.

Roko showed me his tying in knot. It has the rope running through what is a basic bowline, but re-threaded so two ropes are going through the harness, always reassuring I think, then tied off in a stopper knot. I have adopted this and so far, I like it.

Something else interested me this morning.
I didn't have to move.
It felt weird to me, I admit that I felt like moving on. I've thought about why, and I don't really understand it, but it did feel like the natural thing to do....Its amazing how quickly the unusual, becomes the usual. The norm.
Anyway, I'm not going yet. Not for a while. Steve reckons he'll be here on the 14th so I'll be here till then for certain.

The feeling intrigued me though.
Either we just adjust to each new experience as they come along, or I'm learning 'me' as each day goes by.

As a climber, performance and our personal perception of it is an important thing. For instance, all week I've been happy in the knowledge that when I do actually touch rock, the journey and 2 weeks sat on my ass driving will have taken its toll on my fitness. Yet still, today I felt like I climbed poorly. A 6b warm up, then a 7a with a rest, then a lovely warm sunny 7A+ on-sight, taps aff, when I felt 'the flow' (Oh the sun, it was proper warm, not too hot, just perfect and felt so so nice) but then a 7B+ fail after a long while belaying and getting chilled as the sun dropped below the lip of the crag opposite, and another totally unacceptable wimpish attempt on a top rope a while later. I've always hated lowering off after a tope rope.... Life is on 2 bolts.

Poor. Its difficult to not feel down about these things even though logic shouts out the many good reasons for a poor day, as days go. The logic of the the journey, the new crag-day 1, the new partners, the golfers elbow. Yes all these things can be logically pointed to as genuine and valid 'climbers excuses' for a poor day. But there's one logic that I can't excuse or do anything about, and that's getting older and feeling it in my movement today. I know it was feeling chilly, and once the sun hit me I felt the surge of its energy. That, and I was probably warmed up by then!

I don't want this to seem like a downbeat diary entry... though it does read a bit like that. The thing is, things will improve. I know it. I know in my logical head that my fitness will return, and probably fairly quickly. I will find the flow here and I will move better. I did enjoy today, very much. A day climbing is always, always better than a day working right :).

So here endeth day 1. I had a vino with Gerd and Nic from Australia, and a quick chat with Rok and Mijka on the way out of Bar El Canton and tomorrow we go to sector Sex Shop. Yes, really :)

I had a wonderful 'chat' with an old Spaniard sat in the bar with us. It was so funny. Nic Gerd and I were desperately trying to understand what he was saying! He was happy and smiling and whatever he could understand made him smile. It must amuse the older locals to see us all sat there staring into lap tops cursing the slow internet. The locals are so friendly. Being Sunday many Spanish people came along the gorge for a day out and everyone said Hola and smiled happily. They are a warm nation. The differences between other Euro immediate neighbours is obvious and clear.

Finally a big thank you to the guys behind the Bar El Canton... Alberto, and Maria-Angeles and the other guys working there. All wonderfully warm and full of human kindness, nice vino tinto and free wifi.

Modern Times.

Ginaika Mou... s agapo moro mou. Para poli.
Signomi ya simora. xx

 Gerd at Sexshop sector. Chulilla village behind.

 Selfie!!!!!!!!!!!!! Rok + Gerd

 I can see the crag from here! The view from Rok's terrace window.

I think I can see the van........?

Chulilla day.

I had a good night at Navarcles, slept well, despite some arse arriving about 11 in a motorhome and leaving the engine running for about half an hour while they emptied and filled up with fresh water. Didn't even stay!!!

I was up and about at 8 ish, dumped my old water and threw my rubbish away and set course for Chulilla, eta. 1600 and 500 kilometres south, give or take. Avoiding tolls turned out to be a good decision as the N340 ran parallel to the A7 pretty much all the way to Tarragona and most of the journey was on good dual carriageway. I only saw one REPSOL gas station with an Autogaz sign, and by the time I'd spotted it I was too far past the exit to jump on. I figured (wrongly) that there would be more along the way.

Spain isn't blessed with many LPG stations. They haven't really got into LPG for the cars much. Themi was busy locating other options. She found one in Castellon, which I eventually found only for it to refuse my Euro card. But there's bound to be another..... I stopped on the CV35 heading out of Valencia at a convenient McDonalds ( lol ) where Themi and I had a skype and assessed the LPG situation. It wasn't a dire need or anything, but it was the one thing so far that I hadn't tried yet. My bottle was still just under half full, but I wanted to arrive at C without the need to leave again too soon. So we found a couple of stations, back in Valencia. No matter, it was only 25 minuets back the way. ANd it worked like a dream. Found the station ok, really helpful guys one of which spoke good English and it was plain sailing. Away west again, reversing that section, without the coffee stop this time to jump off the CV35 a mere 5k for Chulilla.

I started to see the cliffs and the little hilltop houses peeking between the trees and my excitement grew. I pulled into the car park and went straight down the road into town to explore my new surroundings, and I found a nice friendly cafe, with wifi, and in situ Slovenian climbers. They're always nice, Slovinian guys, and we chatted away and arranged to meet for a climb tomorrow.

Job done :)

I came back later for a vino tinto and some supper with them, and to do the interweb stuff. I remembered to text Mom, and I wrote to the kids after chatting with Themi for a while.
I sensed her mood change. Now the initial journey is over her fears have changed. Now its climbing to worry about, and all the safety concerns that go with being apart while I'm climbing. And I guess there are other worries too.

It's been an experience just getting here. I guess really, it all began on the 25th of January when I landed back in Edinburgh, Since then I've been in the van. Up to Aberdeenshire to see Mom and the kids, plus getting an MOT and timing belt on the van. Then back to Fearghas's for a night followed by a snowy departure for Keswick and Needle Sports on the 29th. A night at Autogas 2000 in Thirsk, then the Dog and Partridge before hitting the south coast and a night at Newhaven. Over to France, Nonancourt, Loches, Uzerche, Toulouse, Port Vedres and Navarcles. Now Chulilla.

I've grown to like home, fixed a few things en-route, adjusted this, tweaked that, cooked a little and enjoyed the comfy warmth of my memory foam mattress, heated by the hot water tank below. The shower is awesome, when needed and apart from the sat nav everything has worked ok (touches wood again). Now its time for the fresh challenge of maintaining the batteries health, using the solar and conserving the water and gas as much as possible before trips to Valencia are required. I also want to get a Spanish sim for the phone.

I noticed along the way some differences between the countries. France was very good for the van. They do like a motorhome, so do the Germans apparently and both cater for them pretty well. France, even when its shabby, looks kind of ok in a rustic, charming sort of way...... Spain, just looks tired and beat in its small villages and towns along the main roads. In France avoiding tolls took me through a lot of small one street towns that still managed to look ok for the most part. There were exceptions. Spain's second string roads are pretty much motorways and bypass the towns so all you get to see is industrial areas or the outskirts of towns. There's also a great deal of new roads here, the sat nav is a 2014 model (when its working) and is missing some of the new sections already. Then of course I get to Chulilla and its picture postcard beautiful, really gorgeous. I would say Validrau was also a lovely place. Both need an effort to get to. You don't see these lovely villages by bombing along on the motorway, whereas in France, if you avoid the tolls you are forced to see some nice towns. Not sure what's best, but that was part of the reason for my journey, to see new places, to make an effort, and to go somewhere new. Its been scary exciting at times. Super frustrating when the technology breaks, but otherwise a real trip.

Now I can relax, get fit, and enjoy some wonderful looking rock. The atmosphere here does remind me of Kalymnos a little. No beach, obviously, but in as far as we are all here for the climbing, and the town is probably financially better off for it. I think its easily close enough to Valencia for people to commute so tourism isn't the life blood here that it is to Kalymnos, but in this day and age every little helps. I suspect I'll find out more over the days to come.

 Viladrau... A lovely camperstop and hill top village.

 Chulilla. Drop dead gorgeous.

 New pals from Slovenia

Van central!!! There's sparky, with Ozzy Nic to the right.

After a windy evening in Port Vedres and time spent reflecting on what was an eventful day, I dropped of to sleep in the company of 5 other awesome big fancy A class vans, and one like mine. But newer and slightly more French than mine!

I think I entertained them for a while when I arrived. You see, I went under a tight bridge on the outskirts of Perpignan. I could see it coming, the frame I went under clearly said 2.5 metres... and just to reinforce the issue it had around 10 chains dangling down at about half metre intervals. One of these chains hit the top of the van.... I carried on regardless, thought nothing of it and swung left and saw the bridge!!!! I took a deep breath, I didn't even slow down for some reason. I mean I knew - ok....... I knew it would fit..............................

When I looked in the mirror as I sailed through to see the top of the van SO close to the roof of the bridge, I let out that deep breath and wandered how I'd managed to get away with that!!! It was only a few seconds after that I realised that when I'd reset the sat nav I hadn't put in the van dimensions so it was taking me places a car could go. Fucking thing!!!!! Holy shit I'd been so lucky.... SO lucky! Thinking about it in bed later, I can't understand why I didn't slow down to a crawl, just in case.

Thanks to the que of posh French folks in their big vans emptying their waste tanks, I left fully loaded with waste and fresh this morning. It made me think, If I'd stopped enroute yesterday to empty my waste tanks...... If I'd had an empty water tank.... I might well have got myself stuck under that bridge!

Tom was taking me some weird places.... for sure... One of the good aspects of driving a house on wheels is you can stop for a pee whenever you want. I need one now!!! Standing in the loo, doing what a man has to do, I looked up to notice a big chunk of sky where there shouldn't have been any. Bugger! Arse and fuck piss poo wank!!!! It was turning into one of those days.... Ya see what happens when you trust in gadgets! When they let you down its sets off a string of related events. As least in my world.

The closer I got to Port Vedres, the stronger the wind became. I went over a bridge as I approached the town and thanked my lucky starts that the wind was straight down the runway and blew me down into the industrial part of town where the actually rather nice camperstop was. Totally blowing a hooly now, the sea was being whipped up into a roaring frothy angry lather. I found a sturdy looking lampost and positioned the van between specially selected strong looking trees and said lampost.... Once in place the entertainment began.

No ladders of course, so the lampost substituted and I climbed up it, and got onto the roof to assess the damage to the loo roof vent. It was fucked. Still there thanks to the screw thread that lifts it up, but otherwise buggered, broken off at the hinges, with a 3 inch diameter hole and a crack running to the back. I shimmied down, got the tools... (gaffa tape and silicone), climbed back up, siliconed the crack and piled duct tape all over hole and all around the sides with a good sized overlap onto the roof proper. All this precarious teetering in a howling gale! Its ok, I know what I'm doing!!! :) Just for a laugh I took the tape measure out and roughly measured the height of the van again, taking into account the roof vents.

2.7 metres. Roughly. Don't ask. It wasn't accurate in that wind!

As it was still France, once I'd thawed out I messaged Gerd to see what his plans were and to discuss the weather and options. I decided to leave in the morning and head to the hills for a sight seeing detour, and maybe partake of the free wifi offered at Viladrau camperstop. But first, supper, vino, and a stroll into town. Only the stroll didn't happen. I wrapped up warm and made a valiant attempt only to beet a hasty retreat and get pushed along by the wind back into the wam cocoon of my van. Sod that for a game of soldiers!

Instead I had my last French chat with Themi, and several messages on FB before leaving the wanders of Three behind at the Spanish border tomorrow.

Now as I write this I'm in Navarcles, north of Barcelona. I've finished off Daves red and I'm sat in the van, a little lonely, a little nervous, all alone in a small camperstop on the edge of a town I know nothing about, except it has a stunning view of the Montserrat hills as you approach. Other than that I'll admit I feel pretty isolated and lonely. Its amazing what losing 3G feels like, losing the ability to just chat with base camp any time I like. Yes I know I 'could', and I have switched it back on once or twice. When I had a job I just did it anyway and paid the bill a month later. Now I have to watch those pennies. But I can't email, I cant surf and find out about this town, or traffic on the roads, or the weather or check the iphones maps to see if Tom is taking the piss or telling the truth.

We have come such a long way since the mobile hit the streets. I remember holding out and holding out, refusing to have one. I got one for my 36th bithday and, well, they are great aren't they!! My phone can do anything. It holds all of my life in it, numbers messages photo's, the internet, wow, it does the lot. So I feel a bit lost without it to be honest. Mostly I miss the contact with Themi and the kids, but all that other stuff is useful. It really is.

Earlier today I left PV in mild breeze in comparison to yesterday, gaffer tape in tact, and passed into Spain very soon after, almost without realising. No need for passports here. I switched off the data roaming and drove onto Figueres where I got stuck in traffic. I parked up for a walk to suss out the fuel station at the camperstop, and when I returned I dialled the next destination into Tom and he promptly died. Again. I resisted the urge to scream, waited a few minuets and pressed the on button. It jumped into life, but back to factory settings. I reloaded all my van dimensions (I'll not make that mistake again), my preferences, and the route, avoiding tolls, changed the voice and the daylight setting blah blah..... I popped it onto the craddle and as I adjusted the angle, it died. AGAIN!!!!! Properly this time. I had to do the whole reset and on/off button thing before it would turn on. I do believe I was sold a pup and that probably its a recon unit with a gubbed battery. Anyway after going through the whole process of re inputting again, everything, I very gingerly placed it back on the cradle at just about the right angle and started the van. I crawled around to the fuel pump and my Euro card was refused. Over the road was a garage with a lady in a booth... I went there and everything was good.

With a full tank, the next stop was McDonalds for a coffee and some free wifi for a quick skype to Greece and then it was back on the open road and up into the hills on the C25. This excellent motorway goes almost to Viladrau before all of a sudden I'm on hairpin bends, almost singe track slowly into the nice camperstop, covered in a dusting of crunchy snow. I had a cuppa, went for a walk, checked out the PC's at the wifi spot and loaded Tom with Chulilla as the destination. It still a days drive away so as it was still pretty early I thought I'd get going again and put in some more distance today in the hope of making a good run to destination tomorrow.

I plan to refill my gas bottle tomorrow too if I can find an autogas station.. Its half empty now as I've had the heating on a bit. Its been really chilly, yes I guess I've spoiled myself a little. Truthfully, this will be fun. I've never done it before, and I'm not at this moment in time even sure what to look for as my Spanish is so poor. Gasoleo??? Maybe!

There's a white Fiat campervan parked here now.... They've just had a long chat with a Gaurdia Civil that pulled up, engine running, lights on, for nearly half an hour....

Im not worried at all.

 Port Vedres.... Check out the lamp :)

Uzerche to Toulouse

I liked Uzerche.

A pretty little town with wonderful buildings with an 'old town' at the top of the hill that was picture book perfect. Narrow cobbled streets with shuttered little houses on either side. A nice cafe at the top of the hill... All in all a nice find and I was pleased to have gone there.

The camper stop was a smart car park just above the river and on the other side was a panoramic view of the whole town. So nice.

 This was pretty much the view from the front window...

Yeh, a nice town.

It was (and remains) still freezing cold outside so my desire to find rock to climb has been put on hold in favour of soaking up the journey, the scenery and getting used to the van. Yesterday's change of the batteries seems to be working... But,...

As I left Uzerche I reached forward to adjust the angle of the sat nav and it died. It literally just stopped. I tried the button but nothing!

Just outside Uzerche I stopped, swore a few times while trying to get the thing to come on but nothing happened. After a brief period of cursing I resorted to the old ways. I read the map!

The sat nav is a TomTom Go, loaded with the van dimensions to avoid those nasty narrow streets, and all the wild camping, Euro camper stop locations, tap location, and pub stop overs, as well as all the wifi spots, petrol stations etc etc etc. In essence then, this little gadget is a life saver and so far had been doing a grand job of finding places to stay and avoiding the motorway tolls. So now I was on the motorway. I didn't really want to be on a feckin motorway!. I took a ticket and set off again. An aire appeared so I pulled in and had another look at the map (I'd bought a small scale map to use in conjunction with the sat nav and the detail was hard to make out.. The eyes you see...more of that later).

New plan made (exit next junction) I duly arrived at the wrong bloody window at the paegge station. Of course. I knew this would happen! A very nice lady took my euro card and paid the toll, explaining that this lane was for prepaid ticket holders... In a nice way :)

You know, one of the regrets I have is that I arsed about in French class at school. I still remember some of the basics but now, later in life, I can see just how useful having a second language would have been.  Learning Greek is hard but at least it means my head is tuned into learning again, and trying to pick up language in particular. One issue that's made me smile is that when I'm trying to talk to someone I nearly always drop into Greek before rebooting into pigeon French.... Very confusing. In Spain this will be even more difficult as my Spanish is even worse than my French... Could be fun.

Thankfully my friends house is south of Toulouse and Muret in a little place called Labarthe-sur-Leze and finding it was fairly straightforward, especially with Google maps in support. I also managed to avoid further tolls/embarrassment along the way :)

It was nice to see a friendly face and after a coffee and a tour of the house, we sat and caught up on all the news before heading to Dave's local climbing wall for a quick blast on plastic...

Even though the shower in the van is really good, it was nice to luxuriate under a good hot shower at Dave's without the need to turn it off as fast as possible to conserve the water. We sat after and chatted more about life in general, sinus problems, women, and getting older. We both hated turning 50 and both are trying hard to stay fit and healthy and keep climbing as hard as we can. Dave is climbing well and manages to stay strong.

We compared our glasses, he had a sexy new pair with 2 pronged arms that looked very funky indeed. While we try and carry on as age slowly wears us down, there is certainly no denying that our eyesight is 52 years old.

During the evening we both chatted on Skype to Themis, and I sent an email to the guy I bought the sat nav from. Themi had been busy on the web earlier in the day to find solutions to the sat nav issue. It seems these Tom Tom's are basically shit and many have had the same issue as me. Themi found out how I can reset the device, hopefully without losing all the info on the SD data card.

I drank most of a nice bottle of French red wine and after checking out some of Dave's photo's it was time for bed.

This morning (Thursday 5th) is another bitterly cold one. I was up at 7 playing with the Tom Tom, which after a reset, seems to have been reborn and risen from the ashes of my anger and disappointment to live again, in tact. Fingers crossed. While Dave is upstairs packing for a business trip to Brussels, I'm enjoying his warm hospitality and abusing his internet :) writing this blog and chatting with Themi on facebook... The marvels of technology!

Today the journey continues east and south via Carcassonne and Perpignan to a camper stop on the French coast somewhere near Figueres. Its probably going to be the last day in France. I've been in touch with a couple of mates I met in Kalymnos. Gerhard is in Perpignan till Friday or Saturday and coming south then, and Steve is in El Chorro having a ball and will meet me near Valencia next week all being well.

The forecast for the crags west of Valencia is good, warm and sunny. Once over the border I'll be wifi only for a while. No more THREE to use so the contact with base (Themi) which has been as per normal so far and has proved vitally important for us both, will become more difficult and I know I'll feel a bit more 'out there'. In the end driving through France has been a good thing, its given me time to adjust to the van, to living this way and to the slowly worsening communication that will follow until I can organise a Spanish sim for the phone. It will come as no surprise to those that know her, but Themi has been amazing. With me in spirit, I know she's there, my support team and best friend. Spain will be a bit more difficult but between us we'll work it out.

It's a steep learning curve. I've had to grow up a bit and learn to do stuff that in my otherwise spoiled and easy life so far would not have caused any problems at all as I would probably have 'bought new' or paid someone to do it. I think this is all part of the attraction of the trip. To get real and taste something different, something more basic, to see what I'm made of and how I cope.

Its the 1st of February today and I'm a little behind my original schedule but thanks to finding a solar panel at Alpha Batteries that exactly suited my needs I've managed to gain 2 days back (sorry Sunstore, but you should open at the weekend haha).

I'm now feeling a little fragile on the DFDS ferry to Dieppe, on what they say will be 'a rough crossing'. Oh joy!!! I mean, I'm ok......but what's happening down below? My little home on wheels is down there... I have these crazy mental images of it slipping from side to side, bumping into the wall and the van next to mine. I see me going down in 3 hours to find him bruised and battered with a zero resale value and a sllightly new shape!

Once I'd checked in and driven into the departure area, the 5 lanes brought back memories of May 1995 and the family trip to Dijon, in the car, from Prestwick. Sam was 12 and Kyle was only 5 then... I recall being full of sinus infection and not sleeping. Can you see a theme beginning here? We arrived at our camp site after a monster drive to find unseasonal snow and we were upgraded to a nice small caravan instead of a tent.

When I get to Dieppe this time I'm on my own and can please myself where I go and where I stop for the night. I have an interim destination of Toulouse and my friends place there, but I want to just puddle along getting used to things and enjoy some sight seeing along the way. I think I'll drive for an hour or so and maybe stop in an aire in Nonancourt? See how it goes.

Along the way so far, I've had my faith in human nature restored a little. I think perhaps we get jaded with other people and wander sometimes if there are any good people still around, or has everyone become obsessed with social media, making shit loads of money, grabbing fame and fortune as fast as possible, and not caring about who they fuck over along the way? I know, I'm as guilty as anyone with social media, it does have its uses and can be great for keeping in touch. I'm posting these very words on Facebook....

Hypocrisy. I hate it. I saw so much of it as a child, all around me people of religion proclaiming this and that while doing something totally different (don't get me started on religion...), so I'm not going to moan about social media. No, I just don't have any time for the X-factor generation.

Anyway. Good people. I've met some. In particular the guys at Autogas 2000, Chris and especially John. They fitted my spanking new refillable gas bottle in quick time, and then spent 4 times as long helping (actually doing...I was helping them) to sort out the electrical problem that had developed on the drive south. A wiring issue at the rear lights. They were amazing, and John spent loads of time cheerfully fixing the wiring while I ran around pushing the brake pedal and turning the lights on and off. Proper stars, and I would highly recommend them! A quick mention for John at GP Auto Electrical, Coatbridge, Glasgow too. A really nice guy, one of those you know you'll like the second you start to chat... He fixed my draining engine battery and sorted a small problem with the leisure battery too that had been caused when the local motorhome 'specialist' tried to fix the original problem and created another before giving up! Nice. Everything seems to be working fine now (touches wood...) so its onwards with faith restored to new adventures and sexy French villages and towns. Come on the cheese and wine....oh, and maybe some crags and climbing too.

Thats if the van survives!!

Chateaudun

DFDS!!!


Loches.

The van survived ok... Miraculous!
I was pretty much first off the ferry and I got going as fast as my little van could carry me in case I lost my bottle and followed the first camper van I could keep up with to some mystery destination! Last time, in 95, I recall coming of the ferry in the middle of the night and getting instantly lost before managing to get to our 'Formula one' motel. This time, 20 years on and technology means that my mate Tom Tom told me exactly where to go and even reminded me to 'Drive on the Right'. Fantastic :) This one even has the camper stops in it... So no fuck ups then..... We'll see !!!

Actually, it all went well. Very well. A little rain made the French roads a bit greasy ( almost witnessed a crash within an hour... must have literally just happened) but the left hand drive made the whole thing so much more natural and instinctive. A good decision. I stuck a pin in the map for somewhere to stay roughly on the sat navs route (non paege!!), and it said Nonancourt. So me and the sat nav got there. First time!! I shared the Aire with 3 other vans and felt safe and slept pretty well. I wandered down into the town for a walk and to have a look around. The French do window shutters and cakey bread shops really well. And they do love motorhomes. The sites they provide are often free, often in lovely places and usually with water and waste dumps, and some even have electric. All are much cheaper than camp sites or completely free, and as I found out on Monday when I drove into Chateaudun, many are in lovely places.

I did some domestics in the van in the chilly but sunny morning and set off for Loches (another random choice. I like these no pressure decisions). Another 4 hour drive on pleasant roads, and today in glorious warm sunshine. I topped up with water (e2) in Chateaudun, had a nice sign language and pigeon French chat with another chap that had a (massive...) moterhome before getting to Loches. Here I had my first hiccup when I didn't re-he-heally believe the sat nav.....know what I mean? Instinct said NO!!!! Surely I can't take a baby monster van up this cobbled pedestrian shopping area!!!! Fat vans... relaxed on big roads, stressy in towns! I was right for once and after a little period of self doubt I found the van park. I didn't really like this one much, gut feeling, so I dialed in another one across town and went there instead. Much better.

I strolled around Loches for a while and began to notice a distinct smell... a sort of sweet detergenty smell...? It was incredibly clean hahaha.

The large Chateau dominates the old town, and the streets are wonderfully narrow and cobbled, but fuck me this place was deader than a thing that's newly deceased! Not exactly jumping. I went out again after dinner to see if had livened up any but no, still dead! Don't really know what I was expecting it to be like, how much life should there be on these chilly winter days... But nobody was about and the shops were all shut. Maybe they new I was coming ?

Clearly Loches is an historic gem, an architectural tourist attraction that, in the warm summer sun would be a pleasant place to visit. There's a river running right through the town too, flowing under low bridges and the tourist office and several other buildings as it slowly drifts through town. Very picturesque!

The phone. Its great in France, as a Three customer I get to use it as I do in the UK. But can I find wifi?
No I bleedin can't. I can see me dialling McDonald's into the sat nav, just for a coffee and wifi you understand.... So that explains why you get 3 blogs all at once :)

Tuesday ? Well I figured I'd put in my friend Daves address just south of Toulouse and wing it. Its 505km south of here and avoiding tolls, sorry, I mean seeing rural France rather than motorways, will make it a long day again. I see on the camperstop map loads of places to sleep to the east a little so I plan to just go and see how far I get before I feel the need to stop. I must change the batteries over too, that should be fun and kill a couple of hours easily. The right hand seat has to come out!!!

I'm now half way through my second vin rouge de pays and its beginning to make an impact.... Hic.

Something else I noticed today while driving... The Loire is HUGE! And this bit of Central France is pretty flat.

Nonancourt

Loches