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Moreish Moraira – Petrified dunes and stunning bronzes – Alicante’s coast offers up its artistic treasures
We drive through orange and olive groves, round hairpin bends, on a rugged mountain road to Moraira in Alicante. The sun shines, the cycling teams are out in full, some from Spain, others from France. Why I think it helps to squeeze myself into the narrowest spot the in van as it tries to navigate…
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When Wild Winds Send Hidden Treasures our Way in Alicante’s Elche
When the van is rocked by a banshee of a wind in Fonts de l’Algar, we decide to hotfoot it out of the Alicante mountains. But, with southern Spain having been hit by seven storms in six weeks, the whole of the campervanning fraternity seems to be heading to Alicante. We manage to snatch the…
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Farewell to Catalonia and Hello to the Province of Alicante
We cycle along a circular route from the promenade in L’Ampolla through the hinterland, following the olive grove route. The road is a rollercoaster. Sun shines on mountains terraced with dry-stone walls. I’m amazed at the skill and strength it must take to balance them, so that they nestle together and hold tight. The walls’…
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Languorous L’Ampolla – the town on the borders of the Ebro Delta offers up cliffside walks, saltmarsh and lagoons
Our dash from San Sebastian to the Mediterranean town of L’Ampolla involves battering rain in Zaragoza’s only campsite open for miles. The drive from Zaragoza to Lleida is forbidding, with its bleached fields and mountains mined away to resemble a row of bad teeth. But my heart lifts as we turn off at Lleida to…
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Set Loose Alone in Stunning San Sebastian
Our first morning in San Sebastían arrives with sun shining on our campsite up on Monte Igeldo. Green fields run down to a muted blue sea. The waves smashing against russet cliffs add to the drama, sea spray leaping up into the air. Today, I’m going to be set loose on San Sebastian alone as…
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Sur Le Pont D’Avignon
I’ve wanted to go to the Palais des Papes in Avignon since I read Charles Dickens’ travelogue about visiting it on a cold winter’s day, with his wife and children, before repacking them all into carriage and horses to continue to Genoa. We tried once ages ago, our teenage children with us, in blistering August…
