Spain #5

Posted April 20

After I have paid at the reception and an unclear message in Spanish, I drive to the campsite yesterday afternoon. A nice spot catches my eye and I decide to make it there for fifteen minutes. Loosening straps loose, tank bag open, jacket off, boots off …… And there comes the lady from the reception, who is in the same condition with her 0-star campsite, already driftig rodeiet. Her Spanish and my Spanish are clearly different, because I clearly did not understand it … I think. I could not stand here. 20 meters away? No problemo no problemo, señor!

Okay, I’m going to stand there. The tent is getting faster and faster and I can open a well-deserved beer in no time. I have 2 more and will have to drain the evening with tea. Fine, just as good. I had driven past the local neighborhood supermarket because I had promised myself to grab a restaurant. So we will do shopping tomorrow. I have a chat with Willem and Jeane from Alkmaar, they are also part of the gray wave as Jeane calls it. Willem was already with his 63rd ready at the Hoogovens in IJmuiden and now they pull out together. In the spring here in these parts, and in the summer to Norway or Sweden. Jeane is quickly too hot, she likes snow and cold much nicer.

The boulevard of Peñiscola, invariably through my navigation which pronounced the intonation of a weak cucumber as Penis Cola, is 10 minutes walk. Tentje closed, flip flops on and on path. It is 6 o’clock, honguuuurrrrr ….

Restaurant is so found, I am clearly outside the center. “Hola, Señor ….!” I order a beer and ask for the card. “Oehhhh, problemos problemos siñor … 7 O’clock is food.” Oh yeah, they’re eating here a bit later. No worries and 2 beers later I get the card. We are in Spain, so you order a delicious ehhhhh kebab. He tastes, but the image on the somewhat oversized TV is less. An arena full of spectators looks at a bullfight. I do not understand, it is not our culture like a friend reacted last night to a video on FB, but it should not be theirs, my mother responded to that. What has the bull done to these gentlemen? Bizarre….

I count and walk back to the campsite. It cools quickly in the evening and pants and vest are quickly caught. I write some more and throw some photos online. I enjoy the journey, but also of writing and sharing which is reinforced by the nice reactions. I am alone, but it does not feel like that at all. Nice.

The evening falls, the gray wave draws in and the satellite dishes focus on broadcaster Max. Funny, I’m 50 and by far the youngest guest here … .. I like the silence and the mysterious light of the scarce lighting. I look at nothing, I listen to nothing and I can really enjoy it.

“Tomorrow, what shall I do ….?”, I wonder. I am well ahead of schedule and I had thought of staying here for a day. Just nothing, nice prutten and frutten at the tent, just swim in the sea and bit boulevard strolling. I’m going to sleep over it for a night. I dive in half 12, early tomorrow I chop the knots.

The biorhythm, what a miserable thing … .. Again awake for 5 hours. Just the short ritual, back into the sleeping bag and doze off in my lovely warm sleeping bag until a quarter past 7. Today I stay. Pats! Do not eat kms, do not gnaw curves.

Oh, breakfast. But I did not do any shopping, so my fridge is empty. Hmmm, being smart. Nonchalantly I walk past Willem and Jeane and ask if there is a supermarket within walking distance. “No, it is 5 km away,” Jeane answers. She asks why and after my answer there is soon a 3rd plate on the table. Hoppa, and I have to say no, because I get so much offered. Dear people, nice to talk to and also explained how his action cam cam works that has been lying in the camper for 2 years. Is this a win-win situation? I approve.

Belly full, 2nd cup of tea is gone and I thank them for their hospitality. I was ‘alerted’, if you travel alone you have quick contact. It is a fact!

I wanted to swim in the sea, so around 11 o’clock I wander towards the beach. Towel with it, come on. But yes, ehmmmmm ……. That plan I quickly get rid of when I touch the first wave with my big toe. BRRRRRR! Me too cold. I’ll be back when it is August or September. Here and there some people are lying on the beach and I see a beach watch tower. Nice, I’ll climb in there. Steep up the stairs and in my mind I was Mr. Hasselhoff himself … .. Pamela, here I come! But in the beginning I started to seriously doubt the structural state of this bitch. He wiggled properly and I notice that with my 50th I have collected some more fear of heights than I love. Quickly take some photos and quickly down. Exercise. I happily wander through and after an hour or two I like it. Back to the campsite, I walk past an architectural tour de force where Jan de Bouvrie has given his signature and go and see the shade of a tree and read it. ‘The earthly beast’ is a travel story of Benno Graas who travels back to the Netherlands with a wife from South Africa with an old 1cylinder Enfield motor + trailer. Beautiful, what have they experienced and where did they start with that old bitch with 27 hp on the rear wheel. 4-wheel-1-drive, you just want it.

Just as I am busy writing this report, a man comes running in, a bucket in his hand and speaks with a loud voice ……. “Hey, lonely motorcyclist… I always liked when people offered me a beer when I arived at a campground with the bike. Now I’m having a camper and a cold beer. What do you think of it? “

I laugh, you are never alone when you are traveling alone. 2 cans of beer furthermore I thank him for his proatje, it was a real Brabander with ditto tongs and a gold heart.

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