| Submitted by: Ivan Andrusiak, United Kingdom |
| Submission Date: 23 February 2007 |
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Saturday 30th December 2006, Wednesday 3rd January 2007.
First let me wish all my readers a Happy New year from both Anne and me and hope that this finds you safe and well.
We decided to approach this trip a little differently from the way in which we went about going to the Ukraine. When we left for the Ukraine we were totally stressed, we had difficulty hitching the car to the caravan, which immediately knocked our confidence, especially as the neighbours were out watching as we struggled (pride before a fall).
This time we prepared the caravan days in advance. We loaded the car and the caravan then hitched the two the day before the journey, this process was helped by having the tow ball raised by two inches, I never thought that such a small measure would make such a difference. Both car and caravan sat on the drive majestically, pointing in the right direction as we joined our neighbour Roy to celebrate his 50th birthday, on the Saturday night.
New Years Eve 2006
We awoke early (for us), as we were both excited and keen to get the final things into the car and be on our way. The weather was cold but clear of any of the wet stuff. We had a last look around making sure that all was secure and that nothing was left. A little after 9 a.m. we were on our way. When we got off the Ridgeway I asked Anne if we had the Great Britain road atlas. We hadn’t! Although we have Sat Nav and every conceivable map of Europe, we didn’t have the one thing that you need when all else fails. So no further than 100 yards from the house we stopped and Anne made her way back to retrieve the atlas.
We were soon on our way, giving ourselves plenty of time to get to the ferry terminal at Portsmouth, the latest we have to be there is 4 p.m. and the boat doesn’t go until 5.p.m.
The journey down was, thankfully, uneventful. The funny thing about any journey undertaken where a sea has to be crossed or any country has to be explored. People (relatives), take great delight in telling you about the negatives. Of which on this trip there were two. One being; the Bay of Biscay to cross, the other being the Basque Separatist attack on Madrid airport. We knew that the weather forecast was pretty horrendous. We also planned on visiting Madrid. The number of people who mentioned both the Gales reeking havoc in the UK and the bombing in Madrid does not bare thinking about. Anne who is to Sailing what a slug is to salt, had been popping her travel sickness pills with gusto!
We arrived at the docks by 1 p.m and were surprised to find that about a hundred or so caravans and motor homes were already queued waiting to board the ferry. Amongst the caravanners I would say that we were the youngest pair there. Any anxieties I had about the journey began to subside when I saw the many people who were also undertaking a similar adventure .
As we entered the dock area and showed our reservation papers a girl gave us our boarding pass and a letter.
The letter, basically said that the weather was going to be atrocious, the wind was going to be storm force, but the ship was equipped with the most sophisticated technology which will enable it to withstand anything that the forces of nature can throw at it. I interpreted this to mean that we were all going to die!
Anne just imagined herself drowning in a sea of vomit.
My anxiety returned.
Not to be daunted we joined the queue and spoke to other happy campers, there’s no turning back, we just have to get on with it.
Whilst waiting to board and with much time to kill, I undertook to hide a key for the safe in the caravan. Anne was to stay in the car and seek out the key when I had found a suitably secure location. I undertook my task with the zeal of a professional smuggler. I searched high and low, tapping shelves and feeling my way to the darkest recesses of cupboards and shelves, until I decided on a place which I was sure would flummox even the most experienced search party.
I approached Anne with more than a little confidence, that I had completely and utterly, hidden the key and would enjoy watching her struggle as she undertook to accomplish her impossible task!
‘It’s in the cushion!’
‘What?’
‘Its in the cushion!’
‘You cheated!’
‘I didn’t your just SO predictable!’
Now you can understand why I don’t have any secrets from Anne.
We eventually get on board and find our cabin 4012, its not the QE2, but it’ll do!
We explore the ship and are pleasantly surprised. We decide to freshen up and go to dinner. We are having the waiter silver service, with all the trimmings, after all it is New Years Eve.
My sister Kath and her husband John, have commented how much we go on about food in our journals, so I won’t labour the meals suffice to say that it was very good.
We went on to enjoy an evenings entertainment, which included a cabaret and a very good homage to Rod Stewart. The boat sailed across the channel out onto the Solent and headed South West towards the Bay of Biscay. It was rough! The boat lurched and heaved and remarkably Anne suffered no ill effects, by Jove those pills are good.
We made friends with a couple from Ramsgate, Barbara and Andy, she a teacher and he a Steward on the Dover Calais ferry, he gets the cruise for free as a perk of the job.
We welcome in the New Year with much shaking of hands and frivolity, we hit the sack about 1 a.m.
We had done 158 miles today.
Monday 1st January 2007
The boat has pitched and rolled through the night, Anne is OK, sort of. It is about 9.30 a.m. I ask if madam requires any breakfast? ‘Just some toast’.
There aren’t many people about as the ship is almost carrying out summersaults as it winds it’s merry way. The captain has reduced the speed so as to make the voyage a little more comfortable. A display that shows the boats progress indicates that we have barely left the coastline of the Isle of White.
Have a full breakfast and a pot of tea. The toast that comes with my breakfast together with another pot of tea is taken to Anne.
She is dressed and happy to see me, I haven’t the heart to tell Anne of our slow progress, instead the captain comes on the public address system and saves me a job. Because of the storm and the head winds, we may be delayed as much as several hours, unless the weather conditions improve.
This seems to sink Annes resolve, but she bravely keeps her chin up, she seems happier laid down then anything else, so we stay in the cabin for the rest of the day. At least she is not being sick!
About 6.pm. I feel ravenous and ask Anne if she fancies anything?
She replies, ‘Chips!’
I go to the cafeteria where I get chicken and chips with a sweet, of blackcurrant cheesecake. I also get a plate of chips for Anne. I take these to Anne. No sooner does she see and smell the food, she throws up into the waste basket. Anne apologises profusely as I try to save the food from being splashed. She says ‘I think it was the sight of the cheesecake.’
I very sensitively eat the dinner and sweet with my back to her, Anne manages a few chips.
She is not sick again.
Anne is determined to stay in the cabin for the rest of the day, I go to the bar and strike up a conversation with the Rod Stewart performer who although from Streatham in London, now lives in Worcestershire at a place called Malvern. So we had a right old chin wag.
I got back to Anne about 10.40 p.m. when we hit the sack for the final time on the boat.
I must say I slept well. Anne has a disturbed night.
Tuesday 2nd January 2007
We are awoken at 7 a.m. when a lady’s voice informs us that we will be in the Port of Balboa by 9.30 a.m which is only two and a half hours late. Anne is relieved to be seeing the back of the ship. ‘ I will never do that trip again!’
I wonder if now is the right time to remind Anne that we ARE doing the trip again in September when we do another cruise with Anne’s sister and brother in law.
We both go to breakfast; this is the first time this year that Anne has left the cabin.
We get to speak to a few of our fellow passengers, there is a mix of people who are like us, visiting for a prolonged stay over winter, and those ex pats who are returning to homes in Spain and Portugal.
We are eventually allowed back to our vehicles, its amazing to discover both car and caravan are exactly where we left them, we imagined that they would be part of a tangled mass of metal and glass fibre.
We are no sooner in the vehicle when we are being ushered out into the cool Spanish sunshine and on our way, hurriedly getting the sat/nav programmed.
As we drive out of Bilboa, I can’t help but feel as though we are at long last back on the road where we feel happiest, travelling and experiencing the world, as it should be! We heard a good saying the other day which is becoming a bit of a mantra for us, ‘Its not the years in your life, it’s the life in your years that counts!’
Diesel here is 90 c a litre compared to 93 p a litre at home, which makes it a third cheaper, almost a pleasure to fill up.
The roads are very good, we do make a bit of a mistake with our directions and end up driving through a city centre which with a large caravan is not to be recommended.
We arrive at Camping El Escorial about 6 p.m. it is just about daylight, but the sun goes down quicker than a British heavy weight and we are placing the caravan on a pitch in the dark, it gets very cold very quickly. We are tired and hungry, nerves are frayed, but as always we make up and get on with setting up. We then take a drive to the nearby town (El Escorial) where we have a meal in a traditional Spanish restaurant. I have Ribo Torre (shin beef) and Anne has Viennese (veal) Escalope. It was great. As I am driving I resist the temptation to have a drink, Anne has a wine and a liquor and is in good spirits.
We are home for 9 p.m. and bed quickly follows, although its minus degrees outside the caravans central heating system makes the inside ‘snugly bugly’.
We have completed 287 miles today
Wednesday 3rd January 2007
At 8.30 a.m. we are awoken by a strange whining noise, as it is neither Anne or I who are responsible we investigate. Looking out onto a tree lined and empty caravan park, we can see that there is a heavy frost, the sky is blue and the sun is beginning to rise. The whining would appear to be work men cutting down trees with buzz saws.
We would appear to have been too ‘snugly bugly’ as we have, during the night created a great deal of condensation, which has caused our clothing to get damp in some of the upper lockers. No problem, we remove the clothing and dry the lockers.
There is one other caravan near by, owned by a Spanish couple. The wash rooms are about 200 metres away, everything is bathed in bright sunshine, but first thing in the morning it is cold, brr!
We get our act together and decide to do some touristy things and obtain a map from reception. I know that there is a monastery nearby, I mention this to the receptionist, who points it out on the map. I notice a cross on the map she gave me and ask her what this place is, she says it is worth a visit and today is free. Can’t say fairer than that!
We head off for this place called Santa Cruz Del Valle De Los Caidos. This is a memorial for one General Franco and is also a commemoration for all those who died during the Spanish Civil War, which ever side. It was built in the early fifties and is a most fantastic place. Those of you who have internet will have to do a search and see the monument, as it is hard to explain the enormity of it. The grandeur of the basilica, a cathedral cut into a mountain, lined with granite and decorated with enormous bronze statues, at the centre was a golden dome decorated with a gold mosaic. |
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