11th–25th July – Marbella and the Costa del Sol

I can’t do better than Graham’s description of the site in the last entry, but I would add “he” is the one who is getting expert at setting up and unhitching Freda. I help push and pull when needed.
I've been looking forward to this part of our trip, regarding it as a holiday within a holiday. We’ve been to most of the white hill villages in the surrounding sierras and local towns, eaten at what are some very nice restaurants that are still here, and shopped at most of the markets. The nice thing about “here” is we don’t have to do anything. No guide books, no research, no need to interpret maps which seem meaningless when arriving at a new city. It’s so hot and we’ve become so lethargic... Graham asks, “What are we going to do today?” and the answer is usually, “Nothing”. He replies, “Great!”

Whilst browsing the wine selection in the campsite’s Supermarcado we struck up a conversation with an English couple (Lisa and Barry) about the merits of Spanish wine. They were really nice people and one thing led to another and before long an arrangement was made to have dinner together at a rather nice restaurant just a few minutes from their time-share apartment and our campsite. Le Papillon has a fantastic location, being virtually on the beach – fine dining Spanish style, with the sound of surf crashing onto the beach. We hope to catch up with Lisa and Barry again when we return to the UK.

We had a near disaster when Graham decided to get an MP3 connection kit for the car and arranged for a Jaguar dealer in San Pedro to fit it last Thursday, with us planning to spend the time at San Pedro market – a really good one - and enjoying a “menu del dia”. San Pedro is about 15 miles west on the A7, which hugs the coast and should have taken us about half an hour. BUT it seems they are digging up San Pedro! After many diversions around and through horrendous road works, Jane gave up, but we found the garage; we parked up nicely alongside Jags, Aston Martins and Masseratis (no kidding). Graham then remembered he’d left his bag (yes, at last he looks European; he has a bag rather than pockets bulging with bits of string and all those things boys carry around) on our table in the awning outside Freda in full view of everyone – thank God he didn’t have the passports; bad enough that he’d left his wallet (credit cards) and video camera in it. We hurtled back as fast as we could to Camping Marbella but were delayed by the road works, reaching the site an hour later. Much to our relief it was still there (I’d resigned myself to spending two days trying to find the “right” police station to report the loss). Now this is very strange; if you dare leave your washing-up liquid, Ariel or plug in the communal wash-up area, they are gone within minutes! Work that one out! But the bag was still there! We arranged to take the car in the following Thursday.

Usually our trips to Gibraltar are prompted by the need for some electrical gadget and to stock up on spirits at rock bottom prices. A litre of Larios gin was just under £7. There were vast changes since we visited Gibraltar some four years ago. The whole approach to the “Frontierer” has changed – a shopping mall, shaded walkways and green areas were all being developed, which was very confusing. Eventually we located the frontier and caught the bus across the airport runway to the centre of the town. I’m afraid to say that although the high street and the road up to the cable car had been tided up, the top of the rock is a mucky, dirty place (not because of the monkeys either - it’s the visitors who are the problem; litter everywhere). Nevertheless we enjoyed the ride in the cable car which was spectacular but stomach churning.

Posters warned us to try and avoid two rather clever Macaques who were extremely light fingered and expert at stealing food. One sits at the top of the staircase leading into the bar/restaurant and the other waits for new visitors to vacate the lift. One sniff of anything tasty and they nose dive into your bag. Scary...

By the time we’d reached the top it was amazingly hot. The views were fantastic though, and worth the trip. I’m finding my new camera a joy, in fact, idiot proof. I guess I’ve taken in excess of 400 photographs so far (many deleted) but that is the joy of digital cameras; thanks Royal Wanstead, great retirement pressie.

Graham’s described the campsite and how noisy it all is, but it’s also absolutely charming too and just 50 yards to the beach. We're beginning to understand (obvious really), that with day time temperatures of around 95 degrees the Spaniards need to siesta in the afternoon (or keep cool in the pool) and then come out to play at around 6.00pm when the temperatures are bearable. At this time children from as young as 3 become mobile; riding squeaky bikes with stabilizers, pedal cars (and one electric car), and babies barely out of nappies follow the older children; parents seem quite unconcerned. The children are extraordinarily well behaved. I love the way groups of them head towards the shower blocks in their brightly coloured hooded bathrobes before bed time. We seem to have attracted the attention of one little five-year old, Eduardo. He likes to stop and stare at Graham, who tries to engage him in conversation. It’s always the same: “Hola Eduardo, que tal? Bien?” (Hello, how are you? Well?) which invariably ends with little Eduardo shaking his head and riding off into the sunset.

Mijas is a charming “white” village/town approximately 17km from Fuengirolla. I first visited Mijas some 20 years ago and there are many changes - some for the better.

We ate at a wonderful Basque restaurant on the terrace overlooking the main town plaza and watched locals making their way to a concert near to the Plaza del Toros. We ordered tiny peppers stuffed with cod for starters; to follow I had spider crab and Graham ordered sole in a cream sauce with prawns. Unfortunately the stuffed peppers came floating in a rather suspicious, mucous like green sauce but after a glass of wine or two we’ll try anything; it was actually quite tasty. Unfortunately we couldn’t join the theatre goers as the performance began at 11.00 p.m. and we had to get back to the campsite before they closed the gates at midnight (we would have had to park outside the site and wouldn’t have been too sure the car would be there in the morning). A wedding had taken place late that afternoon and as we watched from the balcony of the restaurant the bride and groom were driven round the plaza in a nice cabriolet. Tourists and locals alike cheered the couple; the bride looked beautiful.

Other visits included Istan and Benahavis. The drive to Istan is quite spectacular, as the road to the village is mountainous. Down in the valley there’s a vast aquamarine-coloured lake (hydro electric) - spectacular. We then toured the village; walking up and down steep narrow streets, enjoying the colourful balconies bedecked with geraniums. We sat in a small plaza next to the church to catch our breath. Water pours through gullies and special channels throughout the village and there are many modest fountains and troughs where you can cool off.

Our trip to Marbella town was primarily to find a jeweller who could repair my watch strap, as we had visited on previous holidays. As far as I was concerned, it was reason enough to stroll around the Plaza de los Naranjos (Orange Square to you and me) in the old town. This part is hidden from the main road and easy to miss. The original quarter is slowly being bought up and turned into clothes and jewellery boutiques and restaurants, but the process isn’t that far advanced – yet! You can still sit in an ordinary bar in an old small square and look beyond the white-washed alleyways to the mountains of Rhonda. The seriously rich don’t stay in Marbella itself; they secrete themselves away in villas in the surrounding hills or laze around on phenomenally large and luxurious yachts at the marina and casino complex of Porto Banus. We’ve visited Port Banus on many occasions so gave that one a miss this time round.
Whilst wandering around the lanes, much to my delight I found a small bar selling churros – my favourite; long sausage like curls of deep fried batter (much like doughnuts) and sprinkled with sugar. Traditionally they are eaten with a drink of thick hot chocolate, although we decided to stick with our cafe con leche. Yumms...
Fab shops; yes, I was tempted to buy a rather nice designer bag, half price. Managed to resist temptation though...

Really sad to be leaving Camping Marbella despite the terrifying woman who kept “our” toilet and shower block clean. She worked all day bleaching and cleaning and everything was spotless - and woe betide anyone who infringed her rules!

When we first arrived at Camping Marbella it was a complete shock to the system and I was appalled at the noise, but things have quietened down and I love it here. I don’t want to move on but Jaen beckons on our way to Toledo. We’ve just read the description of the campsite at Jaen again “Desperannos” and I wonder why we chose it! They have Turkish style toilets (that’s a posh way of saying “squat” and the site is accessed via a steep hill. Nightmares of our steep hill experience in Santiago persist; Turkish toilets – not looking forward to that either! (See Ems we're using your bags!)