Sanlúcar de Barremeida

We bowled into Sanlúcar in the early evening, ready to park up at the seafront camperstop in our Aires guide, only to be turned away by two friendly Guardia, telling us it was fiesta time and that our parking spot was currently occupied by a huge funfair!  They redirected us along the beach to a small parking area at the back of the dunes, where we joined a dozen or so other campers and marvelled at our luck.  This was a much nicer spot and still within walking distance of the town.  Aires like these often make for some interesting conversations and within the next hour or so we'd chatted to a young couple with baby in tow, away for 9 months, mixing freecamping with sites, and a couple our age who'd been shuttling back and forth between the free aire and another paid aire at La Jarra, where you could shower and get water and which wasn't in our guide, more on which later.

Tired after the drive, we had an early night and next morning were up bright and early (for us!) and striding along the prom to find the Turismo and check out the sherry tours; the primary reason for our visit here being to sample the locally produced Manzanilla.

The main paseo had been transformed with tents housing small bars and restaurants and everywhere, sherry on tap.  There were some fabulous frocks as well, with both men and women looking amazing. 

We arrived at the tourist info to find that we'd missed the tour at Barbadillo in English at 11am, but could try the one in Spanish at 1pm. No problem we thought, and headed off.  But we were off season and the tours only run with 8+ participants, so instead we did our own tour around the fascinating museum at the bodega, reading about how sherry is made and that it loves the peace and quiet to mature:  "all this rushing around is no good . . . " . We also had an interesting insight into the trade, as a couple of buyers were there, making arrangements to be collected from their hotel the next day. 

We left with a few bottles to sample, including a half bottle of Manzanilla recommended by an English buyer which isn't available in the UK, and strolled back through the side streets to the centre of town, but not before stopping off at a smaller bodega 'Caireles', where we were able to sample and buy some more delicious sherries, this time Oloroso as well as Manzanilla.

 

Then it was time for lunch in one on the bustling squares where we tried tortallita de camarones for the first time, fritters made of fresh shrimp, deep fried to a crispy deliciousness, and other fishy treats, all washed down with, you guessed it, Manzanilla from the barrel!

All around, tables were being taken as they were vacated, waiters bustling back and forth, never missing an order or new arrival.  We gave our table to these lovely folk . . .

Slightly tipsy we began to potter back to the camper, but not before we'd stumbled on yet another treat; a large tented area which was host to a traditional flamenco performance, guitar and vocals, and this couple were amazing, as were the audience, with women of all ages dancing and clapping in perfect time to the complex flamenco rhythm.

Refreshed by our afternoon cuppa back at the van, we headed back along the promenade, walking its whole length to the westering sun.  Silhouetted against the red sky, microlights buzzed above.

We turned into the town centre again, this time festooned with lights and noisy with chatter, and stopped for sherry and tapas, more shrimp fritters, octopus and prawns before heading back to base camp.

After two nights freecamping we thought we'd head off the three or four kilometres up the coast to La Jarra and the camperstop, since we needed water - and a shower!  There had been nowhere to discharge waste water at the freecamp, making it tricky to use our own.

It turned out that the aire was perfect, nicer than some campsites we've been on, with grassy pitches, ample hot water, a washing machine and a lovely owner, Alfonso, who was on site most of the time.  There was even free wi-fi! At €8 it was a bargain.  We whiled away a couple of days here, walking on the beach (esturial and tidal, so not really a swimming beach but pretty all the same) and the small local general store provided all we needed.

Feeling refreshed, we set off for the coastal drive past the Doñana natural park, to Portugal.


J.