Sun, Sea, Spain - Part Deux

Always fun to mix countries and languages. In Spain when pressurised replying to a restaurant waiter, I often reply in French - amusing or bemusing everyone.

First day in Spain after the drive down and it's warm. Bit different from the stop-over north of Madrid when we woke up to -3°C. Mind you, warm to us is over 15°C. So off to check out the beach - crowded, it's not.

Further along the beach, in San Miguel de Cabo de Gata, it's very quiet. At the end of the village the fishing boats were high and dry on the sand in front of the Tower of San Miguel - an old defensive tower dating from the 17th century.

The coastal plain around the campsite and this area of Spain is mainly covered in plastic. Tomatoes seem to be the main crop. However, no photos of acres of huge cloches. Instead, just a little further along the coast is an volcanic area where the hills spill into the sea. Apart from the lava there were huge, blindingly white, tongues of some sort of limestone/chalk (I think). Plus a sea stack of harder rock.

A tattered Clouded Yellow (ID'd by my pal Mandy) soaks up the available sun - bit like we did.

After cycling back to civilisation I was forced to stop for a beer and to take it's eponymous 'Beer Photo'.

Then a quick run along the beach to get the windsurfer zipping past. Had to run in order to keep the surfer in the sun reflection while I turned the camera on and tweaked the settings.

 Next day another cycle to see the local lagoons which are normally hotching with hundreds of birds surrounded by twitchers with binoculars. Unfortunately I'd forgotten to pack the binoculars and the sides of the ponds were generally lined with 3-4 metre high reeds and grasses. The grass seed heads were nice though.

A bus to Almería to save us the stress of navigating and parking the camper in town. Not a lot of touristy things there, but we aren't very good tourists, so it didn't matter. A cheap tasty tapas lunch and a climb up to the Moorish castle was enough.

  

And inside the fort along one of the paths . . .

Another day and a little hillock of Agave cacti just inland from the beach. Once they flower, with huge woody flower stems, the plant dies. Baby agaves grow around the dying plant.

Finishing the day with a sunset.

Finally, playing with a long exposure at the beach (the camera, not me). This should flatten and smooth the waves - and it almost works.

A day trip to Cadiz (3)

Beaches in the south of Spain are strikingly different from those Scotland. Three things to mention.

Don't know whether the palms on this one at El Puerto de Santa Maria were planted in the vast expanse of sand or just isolated by erosion. The sand appeared to be groomed every morning. New Year beach walks involve far fewer clothes than at home.

                       

The beach picture wasn't taken the same day as our trip to Cadiz, but why should facts get in the way of a title. And this wasn't what we expected to see inside the large tented area in one of the squares, but if Edinburgh can do it . . .

This is a statue of Simon Bolivar that we stumbled upon. Apart from being famous, especially in Venezuela,  I don't know if he has a specific link to Cadiz but the horse looked quite pleased with itself.

A lunch in the sun was livened up by this friendly parakeet. It could be an escapee as it had a ring, but it didn't confess.

A postprandial stroll out to old harbour defences gave this view. I was going to ask Irene to run ahead to scare off the seagull that was spoiling the composition, but I knew what the answer would be.

As we headed back to Santa Maria on the ferry I was surprised by the three brontosaurus statues guarding the harbour. (Well that's what came to mind.)

The remaining photos weren't actually taken on day trip day either but they could have been and it's the thought that counts.

No bull fights while we were there but Irene took these three (as my battery had died) while exploring the  the town. (It definitely looks like a statue of a bull don't you think.)

Our New year meal was decorated by wild flowers Irene brought back from her run. Luckily I took the picture while the sun was out as, as soon as the sun went down, the flowers closed up.

Time and Weather

Struck me this morning what a huge difference weather makes to time. Not time as such, unless I start pretending I know enough about relativity to explain how to gain a tiny fraction of a second by hitching a lift on a spacecraft. No, during the winter - rain, cold, dark - I have plenty of apparent spare time. I consider what I ought to do, and then, I procrastinate by thinking of things I'd like to do.

Summer, with good weather of course, presents the opposite problem. Loads of things I could do. So I procrastinate by thinking of the things I ought to do and then have less time to do all the things I want to do.

Anyway, spent a few great, if tiring, days on Jura helping to marshal the Scottish Islands Peaks race. Great place to take a few photographs but not necessarily if you have to stay up all night waiting for yachts and runners to arrive. That was last week and since then there seems to have been too many things to do - see reasons above.  The journey to Jura is long - four hour drive, hang about, two hour ferry, hang about, ten minute ferry, and 20 minute drive to Craighouse - but it is worth it. Typical west coast weather on the way, windy, sunny and wet, all at the same time.

Not too warm but, thirty yards from the tent, I found some great mountains to photograph on the beach.

Still within the forty metre circle, and with dusk making it easier to soften the water, I found the bluebells.

 As we had arrived early for the race we had time for a leisurely meal and a pint in the Jura hotel opposite the distillery. Got chatting to a guy who was up from Edinburgh to do some work at the distillery. Turned out his firm was able to print on almost anything - toast is a particularly difficult surface. Before they assembled the cart he was able to print the advertising blurb for the tasty Prophecy. [Jura whiskies recommended.]

Being awake for what seems like most of the weekend makes it easier to get a sunset, with the Paps of Jura,  and a sunrise, over Craighouse bay - a few hours apart.

Jura is hotching with wildlife, most of which is not too bothered about humans watching. I'd been looking forward to trying to capture an otter, as last year I'd watched one for fifteen minutes while it searched for food within sixty yards of the community hall kitchen window - which made a great, comfortable vantage point. I'd hurried to the window when we arrived to have a look, only to see . . . a brand new car park. Oh, well.

These three(?) swans and their cygnets which happily munched, no matter how many camera clicks, made up for the car park annoyance a little. 

We spent hours staring out over the bay watching for yachts creeping up on us. Most of the time this little boat was bobbing about at the jetty.

 Another evening meal at the hotel let me nip outside to catch the last few remaining yachts in the race and, of course, a famous west coast palm tree.

No pedalling, due to the recent loss of a little more knee cartilage.