Thursday, 26 November 2015

Quarteria, Altura, Mazagon, Maracanas and El Rocio - Free Camping from Spain into Portugal

Driving into Spain from Portugal was like going into another country. Mama told me it was.  We stopped overnight in an aire at Quarteria which Mama didn't like because she felt like she was in a compound and daddy did because it was flat.  The next day we drove along the coast and found car parks full of vans parked right next to each other who looked like they spent all winter parked there in a car park.  Daddy said he didn't want to park next to them (even though it was flat) and we drove onto Altura and shunned the car park full of the snowbirds and found a space in another car park overlooking an amazing beach.  Mama fell asleep as she said I'd kept her awake all night and Daddy and I went poking a jelly fish.

Beach at Altura
We departed Portugal with the van stuffed with cake and bread and memories of Grandpappy.  We drove round hellish Huelva which was a smelly place black with coal and pumping gas into the National Park.  Stopped for lunch in Mazagon and moved on because of the smell of gas.  Find a wonderful place to stop in a car park by the parador at Mazagon overlooking an empty beach.

Parador de Mazagon

Sitting on the fence
The next day we drove to Maracanas which was right at the end of a road in the Donana National Park.  It was a very strange place but we parked right next to the sea and right on a cycle path.
Our overnight stop in Maracanas
The town was very thin and long overlooking the very long beach.
Another long beach
And it had an enormous empty promenade overlooked by expensive villas.
Whats it all about?

Not another Sunset
My best day was the next day when we all went cycling together.  Mama went on her bike, Daddy on his and me on mine.
View from our cycle path
I went really really fast and I cycled a whole 4 kilometers.
Me going fast
It was one of my best days and we had a terrible lunch to finish it off.  Frozen fried fish.  Baff.  I ate them all.  Mama screwed her face up and daddy worried about food poisoning.  Nobody died.
And now we are in the wild west.  A town called El Rocio.  Funny old place.  Hard to ride my bike because it's all sand.
Sand like snow

And there's marsh land with strange birds and wild horses.
What's this all about?

And churches and empty houses where the brotherhoods come on horse back at the weekend and parade round the town and let off bangers and play flamenco and visit bars on horses.  Think we might stick around for the show.

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