Ten Days In Spain
[You can click on any picture for a better view]
This story has a very long history. I met Babette, a Rhodesian girl, in October 1973 when we were both living in Higgovale in Cape Town. I was working on my Masters thesis and Babette was a teacher. We dated for some months, including doing a ballroom dancing course at Arthur Murray, until she decided to return to Rhodesia. That was the last time I saw her - for a while!
Fast forward to 2006, some 33 years later. Around August, Babette phoned me out of the blue from England where she had long ago settled, and we began weekly phonecalls, one of which included an invitation to join her in Spain. Babette had just finished building a house there and wanted to show me. Since I was self-employed I thought: "What a question!" So off to Spain I went.
I flew to London, meeting Babette in Heathrow arrivals, and hopped directly onto a plane to Alicante, some 100km south of Valencia. Unbeknown to us we happened to arrive on Spain's national holiday and the place was buzzing. We stepped out for a night on the town, all within walking distance of our hotel. Thirty-three years didn't seem like all that long ago.
We had hired a car at the airport and set off early next day for a little coastal town called Mojacar, some three hours slow drive south of Alicante, where we checked into a splendid apartment. Lucky for us, it was off-season, so rents were cheap. Babette's brand new house was in Arborleas, about 25km inland from Mojacar, to which we headed. After inspecting the house and chatting to the builders we retired for sundowners with her neighbours Thomas and Vira.
Our apartment in Mojacar was palatial and the swimming pool in the complex a delight. Although we were about 500m from the beach, the sea swimming wasn't that good: warm, but murky, which I don't enjoy.
Although autumn, the days were warm and sunny and we spent our time exploring the local countryside. We visited a real bullring and needless to say, several beaches. The local seafood market was amazing and we cooked at home several times.
The highlight of our trip was a visit to the Port Bravo film studio near Tabernas (see map below, where you can also see Mojacar). This was a major Spagetti Western film set with a host of western movies to its name. Babette is standing in front of the Last Chance Saloon, which is in fact a real working saloon, with a real bar and booze! You can see it in the upper right corner of the overhead picture below. Note the old Mexican church, the Indian reservation, and the cavalry's fort!
Since it is a great tourist attraction they put on some genuine cowboy action every day with "real" cowboys and plenty of wild horse riding and gunfighting. The audience sit in front of the Last Chance Saloon and the action takes place in the square out front. It was a real thrill to watch and after the show the actors mingle with the crowd for pictures and a chat!
Our final visit was to Almeria (you can see it in the map above), which was a bit of a disappointment: the beaches were dark sand, the water murky, and the weather miserable. Although I did have a quick swim, but we didn't tarry.
I loved Spain and thought the people were very friendly. We even learned a few words like Hola and Gracias. My biggest disappointment was the sea which was not what one expected from the Med, although maybe it wasn't the season or weather for turquois green, crystal clear water. Never mind, a great place!
On our last night we treated ourselves to a posh supper at a seafood restaurant in Garrucha, a few km's up the coast. And so after a brief ten days we headed back to a dark and wet London, where we parted at Heathrow, me to come back to Cape Town and Babette to take the bus back to Chichester.