Days 37 – 39 Transit to France – at last!

Leaving Oliva is never easy, and it was no different this time. As you can see by the weather forecast at the point we were heading off, it was hard to leave that idyllic, sunny, beachy lifestyle behind!

 

 

Mrs B had suggested that to make the most of the good weather, we take the route along the Mediterranean coast and head over the border at La Jonquera into France – a route that we hadn’t taken heading north for a very long time! And as we were in that memory lane zone, she also suggested a campsite we had last visited with our girl Lu and her bestie, Maisie, 24 years ago, in Tamarit, just north of Tarragona.

 

But first – and we timed our (slow) departure from Eurocamping to allow it – we thought we’d treat ourselves to one of our all-time favourite free-camps on the cliffs at Alcossebre, to stage the journey.

 

As you might recall if you are following this trip, we stopped at the campsite in Alcossebre on the way down for a week or so, and whilst there we had admired the half dozen or so free-campers we could see each day, perched above the beaches not far from the Tropicana site. And after our sleepless last night there, kept awake by campsite aircon, what better than parking up right on the beach with the sound of the sea lapping the shore and lulling us off into a gentle, compensatory night’s slumber?

 

Well, let’s just say that Mrs B’s observation that the sea seemed higher up the beach than when we were here last, was not only accurate, but based on the fact that we were arriving on the tail end of a storm surge on this part of the coast that had washed away a fair bit of beach, some of the cliffs, and flooded some of the roadways…

 

But, none of that put us off and before long we had parked up in an idyllic spot…

 

 

…got ourselves ready for a moonlit dinner…

 

 

… and before long we had settled in, with the waves lapping…

 

…err, hold that thought, more like roaring at the beach (according to Mr B that is!)

 

And, as we had chosen our spot on a small headland, they were ‘roaring’ onto the beach either side of where we had parked. The effect of which (for Mr B only…) was that what was once a gentle lapping and lulling had turned into a discordant slapping as the waves pounded the beach…

 

All of which meant, that by dawn, Mrs B woke refreshed by a good night’s sleep, and Mr B was wandering about muttering that his masterclass in CIA interrogation techniques had left him just a little tired…

 

…which is why he ended up wearing sunnies for breakfast, when the sun had barely crested the horizon!

 

 

Heading out of Alcossebre after filling up with fuel for Evie and us, we headed north on the old N340, now quiet since the AP7 motorway became free to use, before joining the motorway at Ampolla and passing the nuclear power station just by the motorway near Tarragona…

 

 

…and arriving at the site at Tamarit that we had last visited in 1999, after a relatively easy drive.

 

We had left Oliva with enough time to arrive in Tamarit on the Thursday before the Halloween weekend, having learned the hard way in Conil last year when we struggled to find a site with any vacancies. So we knew that it was going to be busy…

 

…but we hadn’t expected to see all the arrival bays full of campervans waiting to get in (it’s now a much larger and very popular site!). Once we had waited our turn in the queue to talk to one of the busy receptionists, taken in the signs promoting three separate Halloween events at the site on October, including the weekend coming, and noticed the ghoulish decorations outside reception, we were pleased to be told that yes, we could stay for the two nights we wanted, but…

 

 

…no ACSI discount on the second night – eek! This was a surprise to us as sites normally list their exclusion dates on the ACSI app and in the book, which this one hadn’t, so the difference was €23 for Thursday with ACSI, and €41 for Friday and, as it’s Catalunya, taxes on top, just like neighbouring France! So, we thought we’d see how the Thursday night went and review on the Friday morning…

 

Parking up in our allocated spot, along with a good number of early arrival Spanish Halloweeners, we couldn’t help but wander around the site for old time’s sake (we have some very fond memories, as well as being both flooded and robbed, on two separate visits, back in the 90s!) and blimey has it changed! It is now so much bigger, and we could soon see why it’s now called a ‘resort village’!

 

It still has the lovely tall pines, but the area where we had camped with the girls (when their tent got flooded) is now a complex of rental chalets with a wellness centre and bike rental.

 

The charm is still there though and the flood management so much more sophisticated with concrete roads, massive drains, and a battery of pumps ready to send floodwaters on towards the sea.

 

So after our orientation wander, and getting lost a couple of times, we had to go for a beach walk up the coast to Altafulla beach. The clouds may have filled in, but it’s still a very picturesque beach and walk…

 

 

Further evidence of the recent storm surge could be seen as we approached the town, with giant sandbags outside a restaurant to protect its underbuild, and this precarious life-guard tower left casually leaning out to sea…

 

 

Making our way back along the beach after admiring some of the older beach front properties…

 

 

…we decided to have an early dinner on the pitch and then a wander around to see how the site was filling up…

 

Suffice to say that we now appreciate just how well behaved the weekenders are at Eurocamping in Oliva, as the night got louder and louder in the zone we were in, with no-one minded to keep quiet after midnight, or indeed at all until they were ready to turn in some time before dawn…

 

So no surprises that when we did eventually prise our eyelids open next morning, Mr B scampered off to see if we could change pitch to one of the quieter areas we had reconnoitred the night before; after all, if we were paying more, surely we would have some choice…

 

Well, up to a point. Mr B returned with our options – two pitches only, with the rest that were at that price point already booked! Within minutes we had made our choice and by mid morning we had settled into our very much nicer, larger and hopefully quieter pitch, closer to the beach and further from the noise ‘hotspots’. We also think it’s close to where we got robbed, but that was in Daisy when we used to sleep with the back doors open and just a mosquito net between us and the knife-wielding ladrones, who slashed the net and stole Mrs B’s watch from right beside our sleeping heads… Needless to say, no more open door sleeping these days!

 

 

And as if to celebrate our good fortune with the new pitch, the sun then blessed us with its presence for the rest of the day, tempting us into the new and much, much larger pool…

 

 

… but with our waterslide days firmly behind us, we reverted to a day of the usual, reading and snoozing on the beach, with its amazing old castle at one end…

 

 

 

or walking along it and up into the old town for a wander around.

 

 

The old town is typical of so many in coastal Spain, with its narrow streets and old (mainly 18C here) houses superseded by a more modern beach resort on the coast itself. So it has plenty of charm…

 

 

a castle…

 

 

and, a definite to visit if/when we come back; a very nice looking Michelin starred hotel/restaurant that Mrs B had soon spotted…

 

 

Returning along the beach, with the sun setting appropriately on what was our last day on the beach in Spain…

 

 

…we arrived back just in time for the first of the evening’s entertainments, a children’s dance-along disco with roasted chestnuts for sale…

 

 

After watching for a while, and before Mr B was tempted to join in, we headed back to Evie where we enjoyed a much calmer-than-last-night dinner on the pitch, reflecting that for our entire time in Spain on this trip, we had not needed to eat inside the van once, with our alfresco breakfast, lunch and dinners reminding us of one of the things we love so much about our travels – being outdoors as much as possible!

 

By about 9pm the camp had gone eerily quiet, of course, it was suppertime for the locals. So we used the hiatus to wander around and have a look at the Halloween displays that almost all the Spanish campers had erected on their pitches, with this one being our favourite…

 

 

The second instalment of the entertainment – a live band – kicked off at 1030 for an hour or so and, unlike the previous night, and partly because we were in an entirely different part of the site, by midnight we were able to settle down and, in our now heavily clichéd world, were serenaded to sleep by the waves crashing on the beach in the distance….

 

After a restful night, we made, for us, a timely departure, helped along by an early morning wake-up playlist of the theme tune to Pan’s Labyrinth on repeat over breakfast (more onsite entertainment with an actual labyrinth set up amongst the trees – they really go all-out with Halloween here!) and, after a final stock up at a Spanish supermarket we were back on the AP7 heading for the French border, destination tbd!

 

So it’s ¡Hasta luego España! And thanks for an amazing time and such incredible weather! We have an inkling of what we are returning to in the UK, but first, we need to manage our return across France, not wanting to leave the sunny south too soon, and not wanting to have to race to the coast to get the ferry in Dieppe…

 

S&J 31.10.23

 

Days 25 – 37 Oliva - Part Two

As we write this entry we will have been in Oliva for the best part of three weeks (20 nights) – the longest we have ever stayed on a campsite so far! And it’s a testament to how much we love it here – and how lucky we have been with the weather, that neither of us has had itchy enough feet to move on. It probably helped that we had an idea that if the weather allowed, we’d likely enjoy a beach focussed trip rather than one of our more adventurous road trip style journeys…

 

So – what have we observed/learned through staying put for so long?

 

Not only did we stay on the one site the whole time, we also stayed on the same pitch, as luckily, apart from a couple of very short bursts of light showers at night – neither enough to clean the windscreen (see pic later) – and a couple of cloudy days, it has been wall to wall sun for most of the three weeks, and we swerved the much feared Gota Fria! 

 

We did however have one pretty weird evening, where the wind went from nothing to very strong gusts with a spattering of rain in a matter of seconds, leaving us scrambling to get the laundry in and the skylights closed, but not before the van was covered in tiny little pine needles, inside and out - even in the bed! It then blew noisily for the rest of the night and throughout the next day.  This is not at all uncommon here, but we’d clearly been lulled into a complacency based on the pretty idyllic run of sunshine and more gentle breezes until then!

 

Staying on the one pitch has meant that although we may have not moved, life around us has changed on a regular basis, which for us, has delivered enough change/variation/new neighbours as it never gets dull, and delivers plenty to natter/gossip about!

 

One of the best bits of staying put, was the series of serendipitous ‘bumping into one another’ events with a couple of fellow Brit travellers, Nick and Tessa, who we ended up seeing (unplanned) on an almost daily basis on the beach, in the sanitary blocks, walking around the site, out on the bikes, in Oliva town, in the supermarkets…

 

Which led us to meet up a couple of times for drinks, swap phone numbers and, hopefully, stay in touch with our future travels, as you never know who you might just bump into…

 

This more social vein than usual (for us) was also continued when we had a lovely ‘come back to ours’ evening with Janette and Ian, who walked up to the site along the beach from their nearby house and we had our first ever BBQ’d chicken on the Cobb ‘oven BBQ’ – which we had trialled in the UK but had never used camping! (A brilliant bit of kit – see here if you’ve never come across them!) Luckily it worked well, and as well as managing to consume slightly less alcohol than we had round at theirs, we had a great time! You can also see in this pic that we have succumbed to one of the trademarks of the long-termers here – we bought a printed Indian ‘mandala’ (at least that’s what they call the large printed cotton sheets used for shade here) from the market to help keep the pitch cooler, (although we now realise they are also used by some just for privacy and they’re pretty good for that too).

 

 

And apart from the usual campsite gripes of occasional annoying awning lights left on when the campers have turned in for the night (we are talking super-bright LEDs here that shine into our hippy-style solar and candle-lit pitch – or into our bedroom windows...) or, post-midnight game players with associated dice-dropping onto tables… it would be fair to say we have had a very fortunate stay that we would easily repeat!

 

In fact, given how busy it was when we arrived, we intend to use an empty plan of the campsite and mark up pitches we might fancy next time – and consider booking ahead – and that will be a first for us!

 

Staying longer has also allowed us to observe longer-term campsite life, including two campers being evacuated by ambulance, a visit to one of our neighbours in la Calle Valenciana by the Police, and the fascinating ebb and flow of near neighbours in our own cul-de-sac, including two German families with young children that gave a lively and familiar sound to our own camping adventures with the grandkids – or Enkelkinder as we now know to call them!

 

We have also been able to explore the local shops and supermarkets at a more relaxed pace, which has meant that we’ve refreshed our local knowledge on where is best for what, from fish to empanadillas, all of which has meant it has brought back some very happy memories of our longer stays here in the house at Font Salada!

 

Which probably contributed to the decision to take a ride over to the Font for a swim and a cortado for old time’s sake. We didn’t swim last time we were here and we were so glad that we had packed our swimmers in the panniers as we arrived at the font in the sunshine, with its warm waters empty of anyone swimming!

 

 

After an excellent coffee and a lovely chat with (the owner) Antonio’s daughter Sandra who we can remember as a young teenager (she’s 33 now and has a two year old daughter of her own) and Dani the waiter (now the chef) who we probably spent the most time chatting with over the years, we spent a lush half hour swimming up and down with the fish and ducks, still amazed at how lovely and warm it is with the bubbles percolating up from the bottom…

 

 

Most of our time in this latter part of the stay was, predictably, spent on the beach, reading, swimming and walking – and on one occasion, taking afternoon tea and cake courtesy of Mr B’s fine balancing act in bringing the tea tray back from Evie…

 

 

Like other campsites on this beach, Eurocamping has pitches on the dunes - and only a €3 premium!

 The beach stretches for miles to the north...

To the south...

One of the small lagoons that appear after the tide has been high...

Looking back from the extensive dunes to the sea...

And a surprise one morning...

 

When we first arrived we promised ourselves that we would go out to eat in either lunch at one of our all time fave eateries, L’Almàsera Hotel Rural in Margarida in the hills behind Oliva and about an hour’s drive, or, for dinner, to the Hotel Rural near the Font where we have eaten a couple of times before and we’ve loved the relaxed vibe and fabulous architecture – and only a short bike ride away…

 

So it will probably come as no surprise that we opted for the short(ish) bike ride! Friday was vetoed as it was too windy and we booked for Saturday instead. With darkness now falling about 1900 and no-one in Spain ready to eat until about 2100, we guessed we’d have the place to ourselves if we wanted to ride over with some daylight.

 

Setting off with the light failing and the moon rising, we noted the drop in temperature as we headed into the marshland and orange groves that lie between the beach and the Font…

 

 

…which was no big deal for Mrs B who of course had worn a cardigan – and packed an extra jumper for the return trip… unlike Mr B, who of course relied on his body temperature alone and the fact that he was wearing long trousers for the first time this trip…

 

Arriving at the hotel just before darkness fell, we were unsurprised that we were the only people in the dining room, and we fully expected the tables to fill as the evening unfolded (they did). We had booked a table for 1930 to allow us to get there in good enough daylight… as Mr B had forgotten to charge the lights up since our last nocturnal adventure…

 

Greeted by a very friendly staff member who, as soon as she heard Mr B’s Spanish, very thoughtfully slowed her speech, which enabled us to have a pleasant chat that all three of us could follow, and we soon plumped for the ‘menu diario’ at €28 which we thoroughly enjoyed, along with a bottle of the local Bobal red wine

 

 

Leaving the hotel feeling very mellow, we noticed immediately how the temperature had dropped further, with Mrs B donning her jumper and Mr B his wine goggles, we negotiated our way back across the marshes and orange groves, lit by the moon, with hardly a soul about and just the sound of some cicadas settling in for the night...

 

 

Of course, it being a Saturday night, the relative silence was soon replaced by the hubbub of Valencian weekend campers, but, as seems to be the case consistently here, by midnight calm had returned, and we enjoyed the sound of the sea one more time as we drifted into sleep…

 

And so our last few days in Oliva hove into view, with mixed feelings of sadness to leave what has been an amazing run of good weather and relaxing lifestyle, and also excitement about being back on the road again! Of course it wouldn’t be a stay in Oliva without one more ride into town to the shops, past the orange groves with their ripening fruit, and woodyards waiting for the older trees…

 

 

…with Mr B hauling the shopping back on poor old Freddy and wondering just what the payload maximum is…and how well the spokes are holding up…

 

 

…a final Corvina BBQ (completely delicious – again!)…

 

 

…tackling some of the departure jobs before the day arrived, including Evie’s filthy windscreen – a testament to how little rain we’d had – just a few spots – and at night…

 

 

…a final load of washing in the hi-tech lavanderia, with its App driven capability to check which machines were available, book and pay for one over the web, and even be alerted when your washing was done – and all for €4! Of course, we felt adventurous enough just using the touch screen pad in the room and putting our washing bg in a queue in front of our chosen machine…

 

 

…and of course, a final day on that amazing, if rather windy by the time we left beach!

 

 

So it’s ¡Hasta luego Oliva – a la proxima vez! We’re not sure when, but we know we’ll be back!

 

S&J 24.10.23

Days 17 – 24 Oliva – Part One

Oliva beach is one of the few places that we’ve never tired of, with its miles of fabulous sandy beaches, its campsites, and an easy ride into what is a proper town rather than a tourist resort. And of course it’s a second home to our good friends Janette and Ian who we spent some lovely times with last autumn and who were in residence again this time – hurrah!

 

Oliva has featured a lot in our travel blogs over the years, so apologies if any of this is overly repetitive!

 

Arriving on a Thursday, in full knowledge that the weekend would be busy, as the following Monday (9^th) was Valencia Day, and our chosen site (Eurocamping again) has loads of permanent pitches that the locals use at weekends and holidays, we were vexed to find that we had just missed reception by 10 minutes, (it closes at 1400) so it was a 90 minute wait for us!

 

Parking Evie on a pitch we quite fancied, we took the precaution of wandering around to choose half a dozen possibles, just in case…

 

But, after a slightly tense wait, and as we chatted to the helpful person on reception and listed our possible choices, we were more than a little alarmed to find that none of them were free – it really was going to be a busy weekend!

 

Armed with a map of the site with the 8/9 pitches that were vacant highlighted, we decided on one in a section of the site we initially thought we would avoid, as it’s all on a hard sandy surface, and if we get one of the big Gota Fria storms, we have seen what a swamp it can become (as featured in last autumn’s blog)! With the weather set fair (days of sun in the high 20s) we thought we’d take a punt however, and move after the weekend if necessary.

 

 

Choosing a light and airy pitch (washing Mr B!) that was big enough for Evie – (there were four others nearby but too small) – our little cul-de-sac was all northern Europeans: mainly German with one Swiss (also German speaking).

 

We’ve commented before on the friendliness of the German campers we have come across, and sure enough, as Mr B was building up a good sweat hammering the ground pegs into the almost concrete-like hard standing, one of the neighbours wandered over with an impact driver and masonry drill! Making full use of his limited German and glad of a chance to swerve passing out in the baking heat, Mr B and German engineering soon got us sorted, leaving time for us to head off to the beach for a well earned swim.

 

The beach – made up of clear warm sea, soft golden sand and backed by dunes, is everything a beach lover could ask for!

 

 

The other reason we had opted to transfer sites on Thursday was to allow us to visit Oliva’s weekly market on the Friday, where we made a bee-line for the fruit and veg and olives, along with a little browse in the clothing section for shorts, as Mrs B had come woefully underprepared for all the hot weather!

 

 

Our usual next stop is the adjacent Mercadona – one of our favourite supermarkets with an amazing fish counter… but to our consternation, it had closed down and moved – eek! So, relying on our local knowledge we cycled off to the nearby Consum – where we bumped into Janette and Ian, who had kindly organised to squeeze us in to their very busy summer schedule of visitors the next day for lunch at theirs – woohoo!

 

Arriving back at the site we were amazed to see that ALL the vacant pitches in our cul-de-sac had been filled with tiny Spanish caravans, and the adjacent cul-de-sac, which is 95% permanent Spanish pitches and empty when we arrived, was now heaving with the sound of Spain at its best: boisterous and friendly groups/large families intent of having a good time together – with plenty of outdoor cooking!

 

Slightly anxious that our Hispanophilia had got the better of us and we had set ourselves up for a long weekend of sleepless nights, we were super pleased that by midnight the campsite had fallen silent and we were lulled to sleep by the sound of the nearby waves lapping at the shoreline…

 

A short digression on bike locks! Those of you who have followed our blog in the past may remember the odd incident in Sèrignan where Mr B’s combination bike lock changed of its own volition, and he had to learn how to crack the number via YouTube tutorials. What we haven’t mentioned before, is that it re-set – and couldn’t be changed – to the date of the start of the Spanish Civil War! Oddly, on our first bike trip into Oliva, it reset again – this time to a significant date in the history of Ghengis Khan! We are now left wondering what exactly it is that Freddy the Folder is trying to tell him!

 

With a wonderful and Saturday afternoon/evening spent at Janette and Ian’s lovely house just back from the beach and a short ride away, being treated to fabulous food and wine as always, and after a short brush with bamboo by Mrs B on Fanny the Folder on the way back (not at all influenced by the amount of alcohol we may have put away) we rode back through the campsite with parties in full swing, giant paella pans bubbling away in the roadways, barbecues heaving with meaty treats (also in the roads) and plenty of fun being had by all. And, with the pattern of eat, sleep, repeat over the next two days, we were amazed that at no point were we kept awake past midnight!

 

With another big holiday coming (Spanish National Day on the 12^th) we settled in to a pattern of beaching, walking, swimming and cycling like we were born to it!

 

 

To the south we managed to get to wander around the still derelict El Rancho campsite where we had first discovered Oliva on the recommendation of a friend over 20 years ago (thanks Linda!)

 

 

* note: that’s a water bottle between Mrs B’s legs!!!

 

 

 

Then we walked the other way into Oliva’s official beach front where, as we scouted possible places for lunch in the future, we came across this recycling bin for cooking oils (what a great idea!)…

 

 

We watched a chap fishing for bass with a net off the beach (he only caught grey mullet whilst we were there – which he released)

 

 

And then it was the big day – Spain’s National Day! We could tell it was going to be a big deal by the general buzz and level of activity in what we had come to call la Calle Valenciana (the neighbouring street), and were surprised that it was more so than Valencia Day just a few days before, given the fierce loyalty to the Valencian Community that most locals have (including speaking Valenciano rather than Castillian Spanish).

 

It was only when we picked up the strains of the Valencian version of ‘Happy Birthday’ that we realised that all the fuss was actually about a birthday for one of the residents of the Calle Valenciana! Smiling to ourselves that this actually made much more sense, we were temporarily thrown by what sounded like brass instruments accompanying the music that followed the birthday tune… Spain is very big on marching brass bands (Oliva has a good few!) so Mr B wandered over to see what was happening…

 

As he wandered amongst the laughing, singing and dancing locals he was amazed to see, (what else on a campsite!) a full on Mexican style Mariachi band serenading the partygoers – complete with PA – and therefore the rest of the campsite as well!

 

 

Chatting to one of the locals, Raoul, who he had had struck up a conversation with earlier about the BBQs, Mr B soon got permission to film the band, and crowd, in action!

 

 

 

Cutting the filming short, partly out of respect to the locals who were celebrating, and partly out of fear of being invited to dance, Mr B beat a hasty retreat back to Evie!

 

With the partying dying down and la Calle Valenciana returning to the usual gentle late at night hubbub, yet again, the campsite fell silent by midnight - ¡un milagro!

 

Except, just as the sound of the waves was lulling Mrs B off to sleep, a disco started up somewhere down the beach – the partying may have stopped on our campsite but somewhere, not so far away, it was still party time – and remained so until about 0400 – about average for a weekend disco in season – and as we now know, also for some national holidays!

 

With the beach standing ready to provide some extra opportunities for catching up on missed sleep (luckily Mrs B slept through it!) we returned to our usual routine, wondering how long we were going to be blessed with this amazing weather!

 

S&J 21.10.23