Yesterday I literally felt the most heat I have ever felt in my life. As it turns out it was 45 degrees Celsius, a temperature that I have never been subject to before in my meagre life. Ben and I have been stuck in what we have come to know as The Hottest Town in the World, (waiting to get Derby to a mechanic), and have had nothing to do but wander around aimlessly and hang with the locals, who just seem to stare, whisper to themselves, and laugh at everything we ask in English or mime to them. I have never felt more like an outsider. I don't think this is your usual tourist town, (I can't see why not, I mean it has so much to offer, 3 cafés, 2 mechanics, a garage, and 3 banks, and lovely holiday weather - if you are a camel - ...a hub of activity). And due to the fact that Ben and I are just sitting around, I can see why the locals point and whisper, they are probably dying with curiosity as to why we would be wasting our holiday here, me typing away on the laptop, and Ben drawing pictures on my phone.
Anyway, after a few hours in one café, we decided to go for a walk through the town and sus it out. Now normally this would be a wonderful idea for a tourist...what better way to spend your time than taking photo's of the small villages and local tourist attractions, (which I mentioned previously). The minute we stepped outside we were hit with the heat. Now by heat I mean it literally felt like we had, (I know it's cliché), stepped into an oven. Ben said it is like a heater has been turned on surrounding your body. Instantly the sweat starts pouring. Nothing I can write can capture that feeling until you have experienced it for yourself. Then a breeze comes...oh how nice is a breeze usually...not this type of breeze...it is like a fan heater, just blowing all he lovely heat right over you. We quickly make our way to the shadow of buildings...the temperature does not even drop one degree. It is too hot to move, and where are we going to go, so we sit ourselves on the concrete in the shade of a building...surely the concrete will offer some cool relief...but alas, the concrete is almost as hot as the air itself. We jokingly discuss going for a run! Literally the only relief are the air-conditioned cafés, so we make our way to the second one.
By 6pm, the heat has barely diminished, we make our way to café number three.
By 11pm when we finally make our way to bed after hot solar showers, it is still sticky and hot and sleeping in the van can be compared to taking a nap in a sauna. I am surprised we sleep at all!
Saturday 28 August 2010
La Tomatina...and other stuff
La Tomatina....well what can I say....it literally is the most CRAZY experience I have ever had. To start with, after a 6 hour drive in the ridiculous heat, (which Ben managed to sneakily get his way out of by ensuring that the sun was directly facing my side of the car at all times, swapping driving just as the sun was changing sides...although he denies this was his plan), we were initially surprised as to the seemingly lack of crowds for such a large event. After finding our way to the town centre, we easily found the street in which the tomato fight would take place...it was a narrow street shadowed by two story houses on each side, and each house was completely covered from head to toe in massive tarpaulins. Down the end of one street was an A & P Show style fair. Although not busy, the air was buzzing with excitement and celebration. Families had set up trestle tables covered in white paper all along the street and were having dinner and Sangria. The first highlight of this event was walking past a man chilling out on one corner casually putting out the vibe for any woman walking by, munching on a raw onion, like it was an apple...not at all bizarre! I doubt he picked up too many girls in this manner.
The actual day of the festival was really just a morning. From before sunrise hoards of people began piling into the tiny town, wearing the bare minimum, thick sneakers, goggles and even a few shower caps. Each person had a Sangria in their hand seemingly oblivious to the early morning hours. Once we all packed, and I do mean packed, into the strez\
.33265
3
mid blog...mid thought...I look up and see a car heading straight towards us...I scream...we swerve left, then right...then crash! 'Shit'...is about all that came out of my mouth at the time!
Ummm....so we just crashed Derby, or should I say, Ben crashed...as I was blogging at the time and didn't realise what was going on till we were mid crash. I guess you are curious as to what happened. Well, our left wheel had been playing up for the last few days, and we had had the tie-rod replaced but the noise had continued...a kind of thuck thuck thuck...being that it was on my side I was sure the wheel was about to fall of at any moment and kill us both...this was not the case, and at times I wish I had a tad more car knowledge so that I might not fret about things not likely to happen. It turns out our CV joint was needing replacing. Being that the noise was not too bad we decided to drive to Barcelona and get it fixed there while we did some sightseeing for a few days. Packed up and on our way we had got about 30 minutes out of Valencia when the noise started sounding worse...and my knowledge of what the problem was did not still my thoughts of wheels falling off at any moment. To distract myself I decided to blog about La Tomatina.
Ben was worried about the CV joint and decided to pull over and check it out...now being that naturally we drive on the left side, and being that Ben was completely distracted by the terrible noise of poor Derby's left wheel, he did what any man having been driving for 25 years would do...pulled out onto the road without thinking...unfortunately for us, we were not in the UK, or in NZ, meaning that the side we pulled out on was the wrong side, and within a few moments we were driving head on towards another car. Being that Ben was thinking about the wheel, his first thought was not that he was on the wrong side, but that the other car was. This being his first thought he did what anyone would do and swerved slightly to the left till it suddenly dawned on him that he was the one in the wrong and corrected himself by swerving to the right. Unfortunately for us, the other car had decided that the only way to avoid us was to swerve in the same direction...making it a head on crash.
I tell you...trying to sort out the details of a crash with Spanish Police and Spanish citizens and Spanish road-side safety team is not the easiest process in the world. There was much sign language, much charades, much writing down...but we got there in the end.
Originally we though our car had not been damaged other than cosmetic, but after deciding that we would drive out of the tiny town we were in to a larger one to find a mechanic, we soon noticed that the large puddle of water under the front of our car was in fact not from the solar showers on the roof, but the radiator. So we are here, in Alamenara, the tiniest town in the world, it is the weekend, everything is closed, it is 45 degrees, there is not a drop of water to be seen, and high on coffee, we are making our way between 3 cafe's to keep ourselves amused till Monday. Will we be able to get the car fixed at a price that insurance is prepared to pay? Will we be able to continue on our journey with the mighty Derby? Or, will we have to part way's with our mobile hotel and continue on foot, trains and buses, and try to make our money still stretch the full two months due to the fact that home is not an option thanks to Hayley, our sub-letter till the 8th of October? Oh the questions! Not quite the dream we had set out on!
So...back to La Tomatina...'and I do mean packed', into the street. Ben and I had found ourselves a spot back against one of the walls. Now this was not the original spot we had headed to, but due to the movement of the crowd, with which we could do nothing but be carried along by, we ended up squashed back against a wall. I found myself very intimate with 2 Asian girls, an English girl, a young Spanish girl and her father, and not far away Ben. You might wonder how I could be so close to all those people, well just picture arms, underarms, heads, hair, shoulders, all pushing into my body at some point. I found at times I literally could not breath...but thankfully at these times when I called to Ben, he managed to shove people away, (well sort of away, meaning they were digging themselves halfway into my body rather than as far in as they could go), and give me some breathing time. Once we were all packed in this manner, the cannon went of signalling the start of the event, and they brought the trucks through the streets dropping tomatoes on everyone. How exactly they brought the trucks through the packed crowds is beyond me, but I do know at once point, in front of us, a girl got caught under one trucks wheel. The breathing stopped till the trucks passed and then the tomato throwing began! People from the second stories of some houses threw welcome 'Agua' – water – onto us, a nice refreshment from the sweat, tomato smell and the heat of the beating sun. Within roughly two hours the event was finished, everyone and everything was a pinky-red. Out came the fire hoses to wash down the houses and people scrabbled to push themselves in front of them. It was messy, smelly, wet, sweaty, cramped, and a whole heap of fun!
The actual day of the festival was really just a morning. From before sunrise hoards of people began piling into the tiny town, wearing the bare minimum, thick sneakers, goggles and even a few shower caps. Each person had a Sangria in their hand seemingly oblivious to the early morning hours. Once we all packed, and I do mean packed, into the strez\
.33265
3
mid blog...mid thought...I look up and see a car heading straight towards us...I scream...we swerve left, then right...then crash! 'Shit'...is about all that came out of my mouth at the time!
Ummm....so we just crashed Derby, or should I say, Ben crashed...as I was blogging at the time and didn't realise what was going on till we were mid crash. I guess you are curious as to what happened. Well, our left wheel had been playing up for the last few days, and we had had the tie-rod replaced but the noise had continued...a kind of thuck thuck thuck...being that it was on my side I was sure the wheel was about to fall of at any moment and kill us both...this was not the case, and at times I wish I had a tad more car knowledge so that I might not fret about things not likely to happen. It turns out our CV joint was needing replacing. Being that the noise was not too bad we decided to drive to Barcelona and get it fixed there while we did some sightseeing for a few days. Packed up and on our way we had got about 30 minutes out of Valencia when the noise started sounding worse...and my knowledge of what the problem was did not still my thoughts of wheels falling off at any moment. To distract myself I decided to blog about La Tomatina.
Ben was worried about the CV joint and decided to pull over and check it out...now being that naturally we drive on the left side, and being that Ben was completely distracted by the terrible noise of poor Derby's left wheel, he did what any man having been driving for 25 years would do...pulled out onto the road without thinking...unfortunately for us, we were not in the UK, or in NZ, meaning that the side we pulled out on was the wrong side, and within a few moments we were driving head on towards another car. Being that Ben was thinking about the wheel, his first thought was not that he was on the wrong side, but that the other car was. This being his first thought he did what anyone would do and swerved slightly to the left till it suddenly dawned on him that he was the one in the wrong and corrected himself by swerving to the right. Unfortunately for us, the other car had decided that the only way to avoid us was to swerve in the same direction...making it a head on crash.
I tell you...trying to sort out the details of a crash with Spanish Police and Spanish citizens and Spanish road-side safety team is not the easiest process in the world. There was much sign language, much charades, much writing down...but we got there in the end.
Originally we though our car had not been damaged other than cosmetic, but after deciding that we would drive out of the tiny town we were in to a larger one to find a mechanic, we soon noticed that the large puddle of water under the front of our car was in fact not from the solar showers on the roof, but the radiator. So we are here, in Alamenara, the tiniest town in the world, it is the weekend, everything is closed, it is 45 degrees, there is not a drop of water to be seen, and high on coffee, we are making our way between 3 cafe's to keep ourselves amused till Monday. Will we be able to get the car fixed at a price that insurance is prepared to pay? Will we be able to continue on our journey with the mighty Derby? Or, will we have to part way's with our mobile hotel and continue on foot, trains and buses, and try to make our money still stretch the full two months due to the fact that home is not an option thanks to Hayley, our sub-letter till the 8th of October? Oh the questions! Not quite the dream we had set out on!
So...back to La Tomatina...'and I do mean packed', into the street. Ben and I had found ourselves a spot back against one of the walls. Now this was not the original spot we had headed to, but due to the movement of the crowd, with which we could do nothing but be carried along by, we ended up squashed back against a wall. I found myself very intimate with 2 Asian girls, an English girl, a young Spanish girl and her father, and not far away Ben. You might wonder how I could be so close to all those people, well just picture arms, underarms, heads, hair, shoulders, all pushing into my body at some point. I found at times I literally could not breath...but thankfully at these times when I called to Ben, he managed to shove people away, (well sort of away, meaning they were digging themselves halfway into my body rather than as far in as they could go), and give me some breathing time. Once we were all packed in this manner, the cannon went of signalling the start of the event, and they brought the trucks through the streets dropping tomatoes on everyone. How exactly they brought the trucks through the packed crowds is beyond me, but I do know at once point, in front of us, a girl got caught under one trucks wheel. The breathing stopped till the trucks passed and then the tomato throwing began! People from the second stories of some houses threw welcome 'Agua' – water – onto us, a nice refreshment from the sweat, tomato smell and the heat of the beating sun. Within roughly two hours the event was finished, everyone and everything was a pinky-red. Out came the fire hoses to wash down the houses and people scrabbled to push themselves in front of them. It was messy, smelly, wet, sweaty, cramped, and a whole heap of fun!
Wednesday 25 August 2010
A hard Day's work
So I had the bright idea the other day, that we would hand wash our clothes, rather than pay the ridiculous 13 Euro per 5 kg...I know now, in hindsight, it wasn't my smartest thought! To complete the perfection of my incredibly bright idea, Ben had the even brighter one of doing our washing in the heat of the day so that it would dry much quicker...now in theory, this truly is a bright idea...it has simply one flaw...neither of us pictured doing this in a rubbish filled truck-stop in 32 degree heat, or that it would take not the mere 3 hours we had predicted, but a much larger 6. I was the lucky one to be left to do the hand-washing on this lovely sunny day, as Ben found himself other chores to do, such as buying pegs and buckets, and filling up water canisters, (don't get me wrong, they were jobs in need of doing). Unfortunately we had a small bucket, half the size of your average sink in which to do the washing. So scrubbing away, one item at a time, I was finished in a mere 4 hours! Yes, we had built up nearly 2 weeks worth of washing to clean, (I think we need to be less fussy, and wear something more than a day at a time). The blisters on my knuckles from scrubbing pay tribute to a good days work. Ben did help, and rinsed everything out for me, as my strength at wringing 50 items of clothing had waned slightly after my 4 hours scrubbing. I have to say, that after all this, I truly respect the work our ancestors had to do daily...and they had families of 6+ back then...good job, I applaud you!
Now you would think this would be story enough, but alas there is more. This truck-stop, unfortunately, was not as isolated as we had originally though. To begin with, people driving by and laughing at the fact my husband had left me on the road side to clean his dirty clothes was all I was subject to, until one man decided to pull over, (at this point Ben had gone to fill up a water canister, and I was alone), and proceeded to ask me 'Quanto Questa?', ('How much?' in English), I said I did not speak Spanish and what was he refferring to...he then asked again 'Quanto Questa?', and mentioned something about 'Chika's', (girls). At this point I got worried and quickly mentioned my husband who would be back in a second. To this he quickly said 'sorry', and looking rather sheepish and embarrassed he drove off...he drove past me again, yelling out how sorry he was. Now I can only conclude two things from this...either he was wanting to pay me to do some of his washing...or another service which I am sure needs little explaining, for those of you with an imagination geared to go that way! Ben and I laughed that we could have been living in the lap of luxury if I had stayed out there a bit longer!
On another note, I did hear a rumor that a few of you are concerned with our showering habits while we are travelling...just to reassure you, we are cleaning ourselves daily. As much as we like to bath in our own juices and snuggle up to each other practically eating each others odours, we have decided not to go down that road this trip! Between our solar shower, the showers at the beach and a bucket of soapy water and a flannel, we are making quite sure that neither of us is getting a 2 day stink on...I mean let's face it, we have to sleep in our very 'close quarters', and I am not keen to be sniffing boys underarms all night. So for those of you that had our hygienic well-being at heart, be not concerned...we are as clean as can be for a camping trip! :-)
Now you would think this would be story enough, but alas there is more. This truck-stop, unfortunately, was not as isolated as we had originally though. To begin with, people driving by and laughing at the fact my husband had left me on the road side to clean his dirty clothes was all I was subject to, until one man decided to pull over, (at this point Ben had gone to fill up a water canister, and I was alone), and proceeded to ask me 'Quanto Questa?', ('How much?' in English), I said I did not speak Spanish and what was he refferring to...he then asked again 'Quanto Questa?', and mentioned something about 'Chika's', (girls). At this point I got worried and quickly mentioned my husband who would be back in a second. To this he quickly said 'sorry', and looking rather sheepish and embarrassed he drove off...he drove past me again, yelling out how sorry he was. Now I can only conclude two things from this...either he was wanting to pay me to do some of his washing...or another service which I am sure needs little explaining, for those of you with an imagination geared to go that way! Ben and I laughed that we could have been living in the lap of luxury if I had stayed out there a bit longer!
On another note, I did hear a rumor that a few of you are concerned with our showering habits while we are travelling...just to reassure you, we are cleaning ourselves daily. As much as we like to bath in our own juices and snuggle up to each other practically eating each others odours, we have decided not to go down that road this trip! Between our solar shower, the showers at the beach and a bucket of soapy water and a flannel, we are making quite sure that neither of us is getting a 2 day stink on...I mean let's face it, we have to sleep in our very 'close quarters', and I am not keen to be sniffing boys underarms all night. So for those of you that had our hygienic well-being at heart, be not concerned...we are as clean as can be for a camping trip! :-)
Sunday 22 August 2010
Becoming European
So it is official...I have embarked on my journey to becoming a European successfully. My first experience joining the throngs of topless women on the beach in Spain was a somewhat drawn out process. Due to the fact that in my head I had prepared myself for this very moment, I was surprised at my complete reluctance when it actually came to doing the deed. Sitting on my towel, bikini top in place, I spent a good half hour discussing with Ben the pro's and con's of removing the latter. Being the modest Kiwi girl I am, and having been brought up in a rather strict Christian family, baring any part of one's body in public seemed quite, shall we say, 'naughty'. I felt that God might, at any moment, strike me down for even considering to do so, but Ben's lack of concern for the matter was my deciding factor...that and the fact that looking around, I couldn't see how it actually was naughty. It wasn't a sexual thing, (how could it be when a good many older European women, sags and all were among the throng of topless), and thinking to myself I realised that many cultures bear breasts in public after all. The moment I first removed my bikini top I have to admit was one of my most vulnerable...I still couldn't shake the Kiwi modesty...and I couldn't lie down on my towel quick enough, as though being on my back, breasts exposed to the public would be less conspicuous. But after refusing to look up for about 10 minutes in hopes that no one would notice me, I relaxed, and have to say, I am now a full advocate for the tradition, (Not that I plan on introducing it to New Zealand...:-)). I have to admit, I can see the benefits, firstly there are no hideous tan lines, (well except for me due to the fact that I have never exposed that part of myself to the sun...spot the newbie on the beach), the ties at the back on your top don't make it uncomfortable when you are lying on your back tanning, and you don't have to constantly re-adjust everything to make sure it's in place. What more could a woman want? Ben finds it quite amusing that now I am flitting myself about without a worry...well...as they say...'When in Rome...'
Driving from France we did not encounter any boarder control, and due to our deportation from Columbia, Ben and I were just slightly worried that either, we actually were not in Spain and Bonnie had directed us wrong, (One would think the fact people were speaking Spanish and everything was written in Spanish would have been enough of a hint), or that we had driven the wrong way...maybe a route for locals only since we were too stingy to take the toll road, and had missed the actual boarder. After clarifying that you do not actually need a stamp in your passport to be in Spain, we settled into life amongst the Spaniards. Ben's first few comments were along the lines of “I miss France,” and, “Spain is not as cool”, till we went for a walk along the San Sebastian Peninsula to find one of the most beautiful beaches and towns we have ever seen. It is fun and lively and hot! They even have an old fashioned fair which runs each night. And the Spanish know how to do fireworks. It was like they had stocked up 10 years worth and had decided to see how many they could let off in one go. Not that we were complaining...and they have put on a 20 minute display every night since we have been here. I have decided that humans are like moths...put on some pretty lights and we will come fluttering! But we have come to the conclusion that we LOVE Spain.
This morning, after something wet having spilt in our van making just a little smelly, we decided to park up, unload everything, dry and air it out. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to us, we had decided to do this on private land, and were constantly having fingers shaken at us, and being told in Spanish and French that we could not be there for a picnic...but to air out our car was allowed? I think they just couldn't be bothered waiting around for us to reload everything and leave. At one point, during our air out, Ben had taken the last of the toilet paper and headed into the bushes for some private time. After a 'small' amount of time I hear much rustling and what I think is a scared voice yelling for help. Poor man had ended up with the runs and two squares of paper to mop up the mess. How he escaped the situation unscathed, came down to a bit of Kiwi ingenuity, bushman-ship, (his several years in scouts), and some very handy 'handy towels'. Needless to say the supermarket was our next stop.
All in all, we are looking decidedly tanned/burnt, full of paella and ice-cream, and bewildered by the lights and sights, loving life as a Spaniard.
Driving from France we did not encounter any boarder control, and due to our deportation from Columbia, Ben and I were just slightly worried that either, we actually were not in Spain and Bonnie had directed us wrong, (One would think the fact people were speaking Spanish and everything was written in Spanish would have been enough of a hint), or that we had driven the wrong way...maybe a route for locals only since we were too stingy to take the toll road, and had missed the actual boarder. After clarifying that you do not actually need a stamp in your passport to be in Spain, we settled into life amongst the Spaniards. Ben's first few comments were along the lines of “I miss France,” and, “Spain is not as cool”, till we went for a walk along the San Sebastian Peninsula to find one of the most beautiful beaches and towns we have ever seen. It is fun and lively and hot! They even have an old fashioned fair which runs each night. And the Spanish know how to do fireworks. It was like they had stocked up 10 years worth and had decided to see how many they could let off in one go. Not that we were complaining...and they have put on a 20 minute display every night since we have been here. I have decided that humans are like moths...put on some pretty lights and we will come fluttering! But we have come to the conclusion that we LOVE Spain.
This morning, after something wet having spilt in our van making just a little smelly, we decided to park up, unload everything, dry and air it out. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to us, we had decided to do this on private land, and were constantly having fingers shaken at us, and being told in Spanish and French that we could not be there for a picnic...but to air out our car was allowed? I think they just couldn't be bothered waiting around for us to reload everything and leave. At one point, during our air out, Ben had taken the last of the toilet paper and headed into the bushes for some private time. After a 'small' amount of time I hear much rustling and what I think is a scared voice yelling for help. Poor man had ended up with the runs and two squares of paper to mop up the mess. How he escaped the situation unscathed, came down to a bit of Kiwi ingenuity, bushman-ship, (his several years in scouts), and some very handy 'handy towels'. Needless to say the supermarket was our next stop.
All in all, we are looking decidedly tanned/burnt, full of paella and ice-cream, and bewildered by the lights and sights, loving life as a Spaniard.
Saturday 21 August 2010
Farewell France...
I have decided that the French actually do live up to their stereo type. In every village we have driven through, every second person on the street has been carrying a baguette. They actually do cycle everywhere, little French bikes with baskets on the front carrying their baguettes, and today, despite it being 26 degrees I saw one man wearing a beret! Don't you love it when a culture delivers what it promises to deliver! The only stereotype that I have to disagree with is that they are rude. We have not come across a rude French person yet, in fact, in comparison to living in England I would call them incredibly considerate and polite! Not to mention they just sound sexy when they talk. They could be swearing at me for all I know, and I would simply smile and gush at their every word. I am guessing, due to my gushing and blank looks they think I am slightly retarded. And as drivers, they are the most patient I have come across...not that I have done much of the driving, as I think Ben is a little nervous about letting me behind the wheel due to all the moaning I did about driving on the right side of the road before we left! They actually let people into queues, and are happy to obey the road rules. Again, something not so common in England. I figure all this loveliness of culture is due to the pastry patisserie s on every corner...I mean who can be bitter and grumpy when your belly is full of sweet yummyness?
This morning Ben and I used our Solar showers for the first time...although I wouldn't say that they had absorbed any of the solar heat, as the water was not far off freezing! After filling them yesterday morning and carting them round in the car all day, which we discovered they were not designed for due to the wet carpet, we decided that the roof is a much more effective way of carting them round...and I am sure that they will absorb much more solar heat if they are actually exposed to the sun. So getting back to the shower...let's just say it was definitely an experience in nature...in every sense of the word. We found a small grassy area which was slightly wooded, about 5 metres down from a main road. Ben hooked the shower up to a tree, and I was the lucky first in. Ben assured me, after I made him check from every angle, that my naked rear could not be seen by the passing traffic. Not really able to breath due to the cold water, I still managed to wash my hair, although in my urgency to get out of the cold, and away from the insects which had gathered for the show, I mixed up my shampoo and leave-in conditioner, and so my hair is now feeling rather sticky. All this aside, it was definitely worth all the drama, for the fresh cool feeling after!
So both smelling fresh we embarked on a new day, and had our first experience of European beaches. Innocently adoring the sights the beach had to offer we were soon confronted with many pairs of perky breasts...and then some very unperky pairs, and a few below regions to follow, (both men and women). We, being from sheltered New Zealand, thought we had embarked on a nudist beach, only to discover that this is likely just a common sight at European beaches due to the large number of families out enjoying the water. I was most surprised at an older lady wearing only a cropped t-shirt, casually walking to place her rubbish in the bin, (I guess that everyday tasks need to be done, whether clothed or not), ruining my previous idea that topless/nude beaches limited people to lying on their backs for a good tan, not wandering around willy nilly, (excuse the pun). So apparently European's don't just limit themselves to topless at beaches...I mean why would one put up with tan lines when there is no need. I have informed Ben, that my goal by the end of our tour is to have indulged in every aspect of European culture...well as much as my modest Kiwi nature will allow, meaning I will not be exposing my lower regions. Ben however, does not feel this same urge and therefore will remain togged. However, I think the day in which I embark on this new journey of becoming European will be a photo-less day.
This morning Ben and I used our Solar showers for the first time...although I wouldn't say that they had absorbed any of the solar heat, as the water was not far off freezing! After filling them yesterday morning and carting them round in the car all day, which we discovered they were not designed for due to the wet carpet, we decided that the roof is a much more effective way of carting them round...and I am sure that they will absorb much more solar heat if they are actually exposed to the sun. So getting back to the shower...let's just say it was definitely an experience in nature...in every sense of the word. We found a small grassy area which was slightly wooded, about 5 metres down from a main road. Ben hooked the shower up to a tree, and I was the lucky first in. Ben assured me, after I made him check from every angle, that my naked rear could not be seen by the passing traffic. Not really able to breath due to the cold water, I still managed to wash my hair, although in my urgency to get out of the cold, and away from the insects which had gathered for the show, I mixed up my shampoo and leave-in conditioner, and so my hair is now feeling rather sticky. All this aside, it was definitely worth all the drama, for the fresh cool feeling after!
So both smelling fresh we embarked on a new day, and had our first experience of European beaches. Innocently adoring the sights the beach had to offer we were soon confronted with many pairs of perky breasts...and then some very unperky pairs, and a few below regions to follow, (both men and women). We, being from sheltered New Zealand, thought we had embarked on a nudist beach, only to discover that this is likely just a common sight at European beaches due to the large number of families out enjoying the water. I was most surprised at an older lady wearing only a cropped t-shirt, casually walking to place her rubbish in the bin, (I guess that everyday tasks need to be done, whether clothed or not), ruining my previous idea that topless/nude beaches limited people to lying on their backs for a good tan, not wandering around willy nilly, (excuse the pun). So apparently European's don't just limit themselves to topless at beaches...I mean why would one put up with tan lines when there is no need. I have informed Ben, that my goal by the end of our tour is to have indulged in every aspect of European culture...well as much as my modest Kiwi nature will allow, meaning I will not be exposing my lower regions. Ben however, does not feel this same urge and therefore will remain togged. However, I think the day in which I embark on this new journey of becoming European will be a photo-less day.
Tuesday 17 August 2010
Nights Like These...
It's nights like these I love; sitting in my camp chair, the sun has set, it's a warm evening with a cool breeze, I can just see the first stars to appear in the sky. Ben is cooking spaghetti bolognese on our gas cooker. I can hear the camping cookware rattle about as he prepares the dinner, brightly coloured plastic plates, that would only ever be used in the outdoors, scraping cheap metal pots and pans. We have the bare minimum, but it is enough. It's like hearing the sound of a tent unzipping, I am filled with nostalgic thoughts of happy childhood camping memories. There is nothing quite like sitting outdoors, smelling nature around you while you go about routine activities, to make the ordinary fun! It is definitely something I plan to ensure my children experience. Although the work and effort involved in this kind of holiday for just two, makes me so appreciate what my parents went through for the 6 of us children. This has become our nightly routine, and as Ben just pointed out, and most likely his comment is due to the fact that it is his turn to cook, and I am the one sitting in luxury, that this is not really something one will enjoy after 2 months, and settling into a town for a couple of days and being able to eat out will be quite a treat.
So far, our travelling expenses, due to the fact that we have been driving a few hours each day, leave us with little extra expenditure, and so other than baguette's for lunch, and dinner ingredients, we have had little more than a coffee extra. Hence the reason for Ben's comment of anticipation towards no more cooking in this manner. I myself am still in the honeymoon phase of our camping meals, and other than the annoyance of having to lug everything from the car to our cooking destination each evening, I enjoy the process.
Today involved not much sightseeing, as we were excited at the prospect of free internet with our McDonald's coffee's, and therefore enjoyed at least an hour of internet with each of our 3 coffees! It can only be described as relief, the feeling of once again being in contact with the rest of the world through a computer, bringing to light my reliance on internet. As much as I enjoy camping, I am not designed to live a life of isolation, and camping must therefore contain certain worldly luxuries.
So far, our Sat Nav (whom we have named Bonnie, since that is the name of the lady who tells us where to go...geeky I know!), has not led us astray when finding a destination, with the exception of petrol stations. Three out of four times it will lead us to an empty lot, which obviously used to house a gas station. Meaning our precious last drops of gas get wasted in the hunt for more...I am thinking it is about time we bought a container to hold a little extra, just in case the Sat Nav is having a particularly bad day and leads us astray 4 out of 4 times.
Well, that about brings you up to date...I am sure I will have something of a little more interest to write when we reach our next major destination...San Sebastian. Talk then!
So far, our travelling expenses, due to the fact that we have been driving a few hours each day, leave us with little extra expenditure, and so other than baguette's for lunch, and dinner ingredients, we have had little more than a coffee extra. Hence the reason for Ben's comment of anticipation towards no more cooking in this manner. I myself am still in the honeymoon phase of our camping meals, and other than the annoyance of having to lug everything from the car to our cooking destination each evening, I enjoy the process.
Today involved not much sightseeing, as we were excited at the prospect of free internet with our McDonald's coffee's, and therefore enjoyed at least an hour of internet with each of our 3 coffees! It can only be described as relief, the feeling of once again being in contact with the rest of the world through a computer, bringing to light my reliance on internet. As much as I enjoy camping, I am not designed to live a life of isolation, and camping must therefore contain certain worldly luxuries.
So far, our Sat Nav (whom we have named Bonnie, since that is the name of the lady who tells us where to go...geeky I know!), has not led us astray when finding a destination, with the exception of petrol stations. Three out of four times it will lead us to an empty lot, which obviously used to house a gas station. Meaning our precious last drops of gas get wasted in the hunt for more...I am thinking it is about time we bought a container to hold a little extra, just in case the Sat Nav is having a particularly bad day and leads us astray 4 out of 4 times.
Well, that about brings you up to date...I am sure I will have something of a little more interest to write when we reach our next major destination...San Sebastian. Talk then!
Monday 16 August 2010
The Journey So Far...
Well, packed and ready to go, we leave with 30 minutes up our sleeve to get to destination one in time! Jumping into Derby, (our trusty Chrysler, named after the town in the UK we bought him from), we set the Sat Nav for Dover, (the bottom of the UK where we are boarding the ferry to France), and head off. The back of Derby has been converted into shelving and a bed, and despite the fact that our heads nearly touch the roof while in the bed, we are confident in it's comfort for the next two months...I mean lets face it, a wardrobe and as many comforts of home as possible, or a lower bed and little claustrophobia...not even a close toss-up! Two minutes down the road, and ready to turn into the tunnel over the Thames, we find it is shut...at 9 oclock at night, due to renovations! Welcome to London transport! A 35 minute detour and our enthusiastic start has dwindled to a couple of arguments and much stress. Still...according to the Sat Nav, we will be there with 2 minutes to spare for last check in...we have faith...we will make it! All faith is quickly dashed when the van is no longer able to change into top gear and we are heading down the motorway in 3rd gear, revving at 5000 revs! More arguments follow as we discuss the fact that the gear box is likely stuffed and will cost us a massive chunk of our holiday budget to get it fixed! The holiday is doomed before we have even left the country...Yip...that's the Holmes's travelling in style for ya, seamless beginnings!! :-) Still...we troop on and running 15 minutes late for the ferry, manage to drag poor Derby, desperately out of oomph, onto the ferry! We are actually the last vehicle on, and within seconds the ferry has closed it's enormous back door and is leaving the dock!
First night in France, and after some driving around in hunt of a relatively safe, yet dark and private place to park our self-made caravan, we snuggle down, noses to the roof, for some much needed sleep at 3am! It takes me most of the first night to realise that just because I can see out of Derby's tinted windows, it does not mean that anyone can actually see in. My night is filled with dreams about someone peering in at me through the window, and knowing that Ben, the darling that he is, will be no help to me at all, as once his pretty little head has hit the pillow, he wouldn't hear a freight train going by, I would be left to defend myself. And on the unlikely event of him actually waking to an intruder, it would be to a sleep-talking, sleep-walking state, he might then greet the intruder by calling him Stevo, and opening the door to him. The fact that I awoke to Ben trying to open the door in his half asleep state several times throughout the night, did little to ease my discomfort! Waking in the morning, Mission 1; Day 1, was to figure out what was wrong with Derby, and after being assured, (well, we are hoping that is what we were bieng assured, due to the fact that we were interpreting our no knowledge of French into some semblance of English), that the gear box wasn't broken and that there is likely just some connection that has gotten old and needs replacing and to just take it easy. We press on!
Day's 2-4 are just slightly more successful with sombre visits to the D-Day beaches, and Normandy Memorial, (the one at the beginning of Saving Private Ryan, with the white crosses), followed by Le Mont St-Michel, an absolutely stunning old fashioned village on a tiny island, which we walked to braving the torrential rain. A good mix of awe and emotion. We unsuccessfully tried to break into a camping ground shower, stuffed ourselves with baguettes, drank mountains of far-too-strong coffee, mastered the use of our gas cooker with fried rice, and some interesting pasta/salami combo, and pretty much decided we want to buy a chalet in the French countryside.
Day's 5-onward, and we are looking forward to a proper shower, rather than sponge bath in the McDonald's toilets, and settling down in St Sebastian, Spain, to soak up the sun for a couple of days.
First night in France, and after some driving around in hunt of a relatively safe, yet dark and private place to park our self-made caravan, we snuggle down, noses to the roof, for some much needed sleep at 3am! It takes me most of the first night to realise that just because I can see out of Derby's tinted windows, it does not mean that anyone can actually see in. My night is filled with dreams about someone peering in at me through the window, and knowing that Ben, the darling that he is, will be no help to me at all, as once his pretty little head has hit the pillow, he wouldn't hear a freight train going by, I would be left to defend myself. And on the unlikely event of him actually waking to an intruder, it would be to a sleep-talking, sleep-walking state, he might then greet the intruder by calling him Stevo, and opening the door to him. The fact that I awoke to Ben trying to open the door in his half asleep state several times throughout the night, did little to ease my discomfort! Waking in the morning, Mission 1; Day 1, was to figure out what was wrong with Derby, and after being assured, (well, we are hoping that is what we were bieng assured, due to the fact that we were interpreting our no knowledge of French into some semblance of English), that the gear box wasn't broken and that there is likely just some connection that has gotten old and needs replacing and to just take it easy. We press on!
Day's 2-4 are just slightly more successful with sombre visits to the D-Day beaches, and Normandy Memorial, (the one at the beginning of Saving Private Ryan, with the white crosses), followed by Le Mont St-Michel, an absolutely stunning old fashioned village on a tiny island, which we walked to braving the torrential rain. A good mix of awe and emotion. We unsuccessfully tried to break into a camping ground shower, stuffed ourselves with baguettes, drank mountains of far-too-strong coffee, mastered the use of our gas cooker with fried rice, and some interesting pasta/salami combo, and pretty much decided we want to buy a chalet in the French countryside.
Day's 5-onward, and we are looking forward to a proper shower, rather than sponge bath in the McDonald's toilets, and settling down in St Sebastian, Spain, to soak up the sun for a couple of days.
Tuesday 10 August 2010
The Holmes' Happenings
Well...I thought that I would keep you all up with the goss in the Holmes' household...and for you those of you who instantly though BABIES...no I am not pregnant, sorry to disappoint!! So, getting back to what I actually was going to tell you all...Ben and I are about to embark on our 2 month Road trip round Europe!! Now the reason I thought I would get you all up to date on our travel plans, is due to my latest goal in life to be a travel writer. (I seem to have run out of deep and meaningful things to write about due to my silent head as of late, leaving me no choice but to pursue another outlet for my writing cravings). And what better place to start than while actually doing some travelling! So, this being the long-term goal, (Joke's! It really isn't, but if I tell you all that it is I have a reason to get you all to read my travel updates), the short-term goal is to write a minimum of once every 4 days. (Do not be daunted at the large amount of blogs this will leave you to read...I do not expect your commitment to run quite that deep, and if it does, I promise I will try and make them interesting...no 'got up, chose what socks to wear, had breakfast, went into the city...blah blah blah'! :-)). Now to be honest I do see this as an achievable goal due to the fact that Ben and I will be living out of a van for that two months. Now when I say van, I am not talking about the large-not-much-short-of-a-bus Comby van that most people will embark on road trips in, I am talking about the small brethren-family-of-6 'people mover' you see on those frosty Saturday mornings at the Under 12's rugby. Now one might think we will get a bit claustrophobic being that neither of us are petite size 8's, but no, we truly love to feel close and intimate and be as much in each other's faces as possible! Getting back to my writing intentions, being that neither Ben nor I are massive clubbing fans, due to the fact that Ben doesn't like dancing much and I am getting old and rather nana-ish, I feel that our evenings will leave us with some time to do other after-dark activities, by which I mean, writing...for those of you who automatically thought I was referring to something else!
Well, that about brings you up to date on our plans for the next couple of months...that is, assuming Ben manages to get the bed and drawers built in the van, otherwise we will be camping out on car seats for two months, and no matter how much we enjoy each other's company, even we could not survive that!! I'll keep you posted!!
Well, that about brings you up to date on our plans for the next couple of months...that is, assuming Ben manages to get the bed and drawers built in the van, otherwise we will be camping out on car seats for two months, and no matter how much we enjoy each other's company, even we could not survive that!! I'll keep you posted!!
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