“He Is Spartacus” Said The Kitten

I’m writing this from the glorious Dales town of Skipton, or Skippy-ton as we call it most times as we’re wacky, devil-may-care people.

I’m here because it’s Friday.

Most Fridays for the last hmmm years, I visited my friends D&S who lived near me in North Leeds and we’d have a takeaway and watch a movie and then I’d return home.

Then last October they upped sticks and moved to Skippy-ton which is 26 miles from my home so a tad further away !  As the drive involves going on the notoriously busy A65 up into the Yorkshire Dales, it can take 45-55 mins depending on the time of year, school holidays and the number of bloody cyclists, women drivers and sheep are on the road.  As you can imagine, female bike riding sheep are the worst.

So once it was decided we’d still keep our Friday routine sacred, it made more sense for me to stay the night and return home on the Saturday in time for the first televised footy match at 12:30.

Priorities, y’know.

This week things have been different as D was off work on Thursday so I came for 2 nights at this most excellent B&B (not official and other real B&Bs are available in the area).  D&S keep putting off their retirement and I’m starting to suspect this might be due to the panic of me staying for longer !

The Leeds-Liverpool canal runs about 2 mins walk from the house here so we walked along the tow path into the town this morning and had lunch at the delightful Dales Country Cafe & Grill and I had a chicken curry and D had some sort of cheese, leek and potato concoction which were both homemade and delicious.  Well mine was anyway. I can’t really answer for hers but she said it was delicious too. I wouldn’t touch anything containing cheese with a canal boat pole, just so you know.

Right, with that load of (too much) information out of the way and continuing on from the last blog post, I’ll get back to my Spanish road trip from last June/July. When we left our intrepid hero, me, I’d just driven 1,307 miles down through the scenic parts of France, crossed the Pyrenees and arrived in the very picturesque coastal town of Peniscola.

No titters please.

I’d booked a villa for 3 nights via Airbnb and I was initially dismayed to find it was a 25 minute trek down into town via a steep, unpaved path to the main road and then along this pavement free busy road. However, I decided after the first hair raising walk that Peniscola was still a place that required more investigation so I booked the villa for another week “off the books” so to speak. In other words I did a deal with the owner, Spartacus, away from the prying eyes and fees of Airbnb.

Yes his name really was Spartacus although I initially though it was just an Airbnb moniker.

As well as the villa, Spartacus also owned and ran a bar a few miles up the coast at Benicarlo which opened early and closed late so I basically had the place to myself; well me and the kitten, Squeaky, a stray he’d found a few days earlier. Being a cat lover, I’d no problem with this, although after only a few minutes playing with the kitten, I thought Scratchy would be a more accurate name than Squeaky.

My arms, legs and face agreed !

Sadly, or maybe not for you, I have to leave this post here as my photos (on an external hard drive) and notebook (on my coffee table) from the trip are back at home so I can go no further without them. I wasn’t planning on doing a blog post from here you see.

So as they say….to be continued……..

A few days have passed and I’m ready to continue. I donno how people find the time to blog daily but then again, maybe most posts are just word dumps whereas mine tend to contain loads of valuable information and stunning photographs which take time to collect and check for accuracy.

Well if I don’t say it, nobody else will.

I’d arrived at the villa South of Peniscola at 14:30 (Day 5) so had plenty of time to dump my stuff in the bedroom and head down into the town.  This was when I realised that despite the views, the 25 minute walk wasn’t going to be pleasant. The temperature was also climbing beyond 35c so I knew the return would be ever worse.

This was the view at the bottom of the unpaved path down from the villa and almost at the main road.

And this is on the road, literally, as there were no footpaths at all. It curved several times to get around to the old town with the castle plonked on top, shown in the middle of the photo.

I just thought I’d include a couple of other walkers for scale…..honest, officer !

When the road came to a roundabout down at the beach, the turn to the left was to the new town and straight on led alongside the beach to the castle…a beach that was remarkably empty.

At this stage I was only expecting to be there another 2 days so I decided to explore the castle in case I wouldn’t get another chance.

As if the walk from the villa wasn’t tiring enough, the climb up the very narrow, steep streets and numerous steps to the castle entrance (210 feet) just about did me in.  This wasn’t the entrance but just the start of the inside of the outer walls.

The view from almost ground level with the old town and castle behind me.

Still not inside but climbing up to the lighthouse.

Above the lighthouse with great views across the Med.

From the same position, the view looking at the coastline North towards Barcelona.

The castle (Castillo de Peñíscola) timeline is pretty complex so it’s hard to date the place. 11th or 13th century, take your pick. Parts seem to have been constantly rebuilt until the 16th century and the stonework looked even more modern…..almost 20th century I’d have said.

It could have been a Hollywood set.

But in any case, the views from the top were spectacular. This is again looking North.

And looking South, the view was over the rooftops of the old town towards “my” villa.

After spending several hours inside and around the castle, I had a meal at one of the MANY eating places still inside the outer walls and then explored the hundreds of shops that lined every inch of the streets. These were all tourist/souvenir shops and as most were selling the same tat, it’s hard to know how so many could exist next to each other.

I think they were also trying to cash in on Game Of Thrones but maybe such items were simply reflecting the history of the area.

It had been a long day and I’d had enough. By now I’d decided to stay longer than the planned 3 days in Peniscola so I was ready to return to the villa as all those steep streets had tested my angina and the heat had worn me out. AND I knew I had that “lovely” walk back to look forward to.

The weather forecast for the rest of the week and beyond was more of the same…..blue skies, no sniff of rain and temps in the high 30’s. Given the lay of the land and especially everywhere inside the castle walls where I knew I’d be spending most of my time, I had to pace myself and that started from the next morning, Day 6.

Sunday………..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jane, Spain But No Rain

You know when you look for a product on Amazon or check out a location on Google Maps or look up a friend on Facebook or read a hotel review on TripAdvisor and then those people, places and products pop up all over your browsing for weeks to come no matter where on the Interweb you are ?

I think we all get it; I know I do but then I guess I surf a teeny bit more than most people. I’m actually thinking of getting a lanyard so I can carry my tablet around with me wherever I go and still be able to do the dishes (very carefully) or make the bed !

I need to be connected.

And that brings me nicely to Radio 1 DJ Adele Roberts and by association,  Jane McDonald-Cruising.

For UK readers, that’s not Jane‘s real surname and this will be explained later.

For non UK readers, you’ve no idea who she is anyway so don’t worry about it.

Adele Roberts was one of the celebrities (ha !  No, I’d never heard of most of them either) on the last series of “I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here” which is a reality show where 12 or so C-list celebs are plonked in a camp in a “jungle environment” in Australia and try to avoid getting themselves burned to death.  No seriously, no burning was involved which was a minor miracle in itself, given current conditions there.

So these celebs (cough) are allowed to bring one luxury/personal item with them and, much to the amusement of her camp mates and much to the bewilderment of the British viewing public, Adele brought a framed photo of Jane McDonald !

It’ll save time if readers who don’t know who she is just Google her; it’ll save me trying to describe her.

This ensured Jane got lots of mentions and air time on this very popular show for the following 3 weeks and now what do I find……repeat episodes of her cruising tv series are appearing all over the place and she even popped up with her own New Years Eve entertainment show on Tuesday. I’m not sure if it was a repeat from the last century as the line up of guests included Chesney Hawkes, Tony Christie and The Lighthouse Family. I was expecting the end credits to still have the production date in Roman numerals.

But I DO like watching her cruising shows if the locations interest me. Yes this means I have to put up with her non stop cheerfulness, her frequent references to being from Wakefield (who admits this ?), her non stop laughing at everything SHE says and of course the way she ends each show by singing us a location relevant song.

Last night I watched an episode where she cruised down the Dalmatian Coast and hard as I looked, I never saw a single Dalmatian !  But I did see stunning locations and with thoughts at this time of year turning to warm summer holidays, I thought…..road trip 2020 ???

Well that was until I spent a few minutes on Google Maps. I entered Dunkirk to Split, the 2nd largest city in Croatia and it brought up 1,120 miles !  Add in 270 miles from my house to the Dover ferry terminal and that’s 1,390 one way.  Hmmm.  Maybe a fly/drive would be better but I do love driving across different countries.

So speaking of road trips……

Back in June 2019, after 983 miles driving down through England to Dover, getting the 2pm ferry to Dunkirk and then on down through France, I crossed the border into Spain on Day 3 of my road trip. I was now well up in the Pyrenees so although it was only 40 miles to the town of Pont de Suert where, a few feet after crossing the border I’d rung ahead to book a hotel room, it took nearly 2 hrs to get there due to the switchback mountain roads and frequent stoppages to take photos of the stunning scenery.

Despite being late June, the altitude meant it was still pretty chilly and low clouds would either spoil photography or add to it, depending on your view of such things.

After all that driving, I wanted to rest and also to see more of the area so I booked another night and on the 4th day of the trip, I drove 1.7 miles back up N-230 and turned right onto the L-500 towards the Boi Valley and boi was that a good idea.

Sorry.

This is an area of outstanding natural beauty (obviously including the fella below) and after a lovely drive up the valley with the Pyrenees on both sides and with the usual frequent stops for photos and video, the L-500 came to a dead end at the very base of that dam behind me which created a magnificently picturesque reservoir…….

You’ll notice the showerproof jacket I was wearing. It wasn’t raining as such but every so often low clouds would sweep by and a fine mist would envelope me so thankfully I’d the foresight to keep this jacket in the glove compartment.

Next morning, Day 5, it was time to leave Pont de Suert and this was the view almost from the hotel entrance. I was only charged €84 for the 2 nights and 2 breakfasts which was a bargain. Even with the overcast sky, it was still a pretty place, snowbound in the winter of course.

I love it when I leave a place and within a mile, I come across stunning views. The weather had improved and suddenly I had the almost clear blue skies that makes driving so much more pleasurable.

These are views of the massive Escales Reservoir and the road, still the N-230, wends its way along the edge of it for miles and goes back and forth between the Spanish regions of Aragon and Catalonia. I was within walking distance of the hotel I’d just left !

You can see the N-230 stretching back to Pont de Suert just above my left ear.

It was a relatively short 200 mile drive to my destination, Peniscola and as I drove down the Eastern side of Spain towards the coast, the scenery, and the temperature, changed dramatically.  I got there at 14:35 and via Airbnb I had booked just one night at a villa overlooking the town but after that one night and after seeing what the town had to offer, I had a word with the villa owner, Spartacus (honestly….and yes, we did do the repetitive “I am Spartacus thing when we met) and we sorted out a non Airbnb deal and I stayed for another week.

I’d gone 1,307 miles from Leeds (hmm maybe a round trip to Split this year would be “doable” after all) in just 5 days of easy driving including the unscheduled trip to that dam which took up a full day. It was not my original intention to drive anywhere further south in Spain despite once thinking I’d like to go all the way to Gibraltar. Then I realised that would be another 560 or so miles and of course the same back again.

No, I really liked Peniscola after just a first brief afternoon exploration. I wanted to base myself there, relax and enjoy the town, its castle, beaches and of course the glorious weather as temps were due to be in the mid 30’s for the whole week and beyond.

And that’s where I’ll leave things for this post. There are plenty of future stories to tell about Peniscola including my interactions with Spartacus and the tales of his living room CCTV camera and what happened to the stray kitten he found.

Ohh the suspense………