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 (9th) 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 12th) 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!
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
No comments:
Post a Comment