Define Adventure

Is it an adventure if all you are doing is driving?

*The somewhat monotonous interior of Spain*

And driving…

…and driving.

*This wide angle lens shot does nothing for my waistline*

We have driven 1,400 miles (2,250 km) over 11 days, with just three rest days (no driving). Wild camping along the way has saved us money…

*Free parking on sea (Omaha beach, Normandy)*

…but all those savings have been lost with diesel at nearly £2 a litre. So, to save more money we have done lots of cooking in the van. However, we have occasionally fallen off that particular budget wagon.

Back to the original question though; is just driving an adventure? Well, it depends how you define adventure. If counting the umpteen-thousandth wind turbine excites you (I’m easily pleased, so yes) and if eating in truckers cafés in the middle of Spain’s dusty interior floats your boat (I should say so with coffee at €1 a cup), then yes. If watching the land transform from flat, windy and wet desolation to stunning mountain scenery with a side order of sunsets across the calm Mediterranean sea does it for you then, also yes, it is an adventure.

The thing about just driving is that there are always unexpected little gems along the way that make it less of a grind and more of a mini-adventure. You just have to be open to them. To find the silver lining.

*The closed, but prettiest, bit of the open air Don Quixote museum in Puerto Lápice, Castilla-La Mancha*

Even the pain of visiting an immensely expensive petrol station can be somewhat assuaged by the delightful café next door. Where the proprietor will pretend to understand your faltering (read: bloody awful) Spanish and deliver up the most delicious coffee to be enjoyed on the sunny terrace.

*There is always a silver lining (and coffee). You just have to look for it.*

“To gaze on yourself is the hardest thing” So said The Man From LaMancha, or Don Quixote (pr: key-hoe-tay)

Perhaps that is what all the driving allowed me to do. Those many hours behind the wheel gave me pause to consider my own mortality, to ponder the meaning of life. Nah! I just listened to music and sang along badly while occasionally pointing out of the window and shouting, “Windmill!” or some such inanity. Meanwhile, in the passenger seat Mrs P researched turkeys for hours on end (it’s a long story).

*Gandalf takes a well earned rest beneath the avocado trees*

So, here we rest. Beneath the avocado trees on the south coast of Spain in a place called Nerja. A name which, for some childish reason, never fails to make me titter.

Today we rest a moment by the sea. Tomorrow we head to the mountains and hopefully a spot of rock climbing.

Let the adventure begin.

Chatter

Emergency Protocol Activated

Neil Pitts