The Vatican

Harry's last day has arrived and we need to make sure that he gets the best out of it. By now, everyone is exhausted from the hours spent walking around, every day, so much so that even Harry is hinting at a rest day. That makes me feel a bit better about my aching legs and knees! It's not going to happen though, Harry can rest all he likes when he gets home. Today, we are going to the Vatican City, aching legs or not. Even then, he will be leaving so much undiscovered in Rome and I hope that he will return to finish the job another time. 

Sue isn't feeling too good today and bows out, I'm disappointed for her and tell her that we can go the following week, even though I think we both know that we won't. We're a dab hand at this now and get our tickets before heading for the bus stop. Once again at the station, we refuel with another toasted sandwich and coffee before heading for the Metro. This is the only time that there is any slight confusion as to where to get off the train. There is a stop, suitably named 'Vaticano' but I know that we want to get off at the stop after that. I stick to my guns when Harry looks at me quizzically and the Vaticano stop passes us by. Whichever metro stop you get off at, you can almost just follow the crowd, and something amazing will be at the head of it. It's hard to tell when you have arrived in the Vatican city, there is no visible border and I felt a bit cheated. I wanted to be halted by the Papal bodyguard at an elaborate entrance and have my passport demanded. Ideally, this would then be stamped with an official Vatican visa, before we were allowed to pass through. I'd even be prepared to pay 10 euros for such a stamp but, it wasn't to be and we just wandered in, oblivious.
The Vatican as a whole is one of those places that is best viewed from on high, St Peters piazza in particular, the columns are so high that you can be forgiven for not looking up! It's impossible to do the Vatican City justice in one day, there's just so much to investigate but, one day is all we have and we decide that St Peters Basilica is a must. Again, it's free to enter, again that means long queues to do so. The queue is slowed down dramatically by the addition of x-ray equipment and scanners as can be found at all airports. The queue is ten people wide and filters down to one person at a time at the x-ray machine, which in turn leads to a nonsensical push and shove at the end of a two hour queue, during which you are left to bake in the mid-day sun. The relief at getting to the other side is such that we actually have a sit down for ten minutes to get our breath back. You really need to sort those queues out Mr Pope! Tickets are bought once you are through and I decided that I would get more from our visit if I paid extra for the audio guide. I was wrong, I couldn't make head nor tail of it but I suspect that it was just me and I'm sure that many people benefit from having it. Once inside, the sheer scale and magnificence of the Basilica does it's best to erase the memory of the people herding outside, and it's a lot cooler, a definite plus! A couple of hours in the queue, and a couple of hours wandering around the Basilica equals, half a day gone. I feel a bit frustrated that we won't get to visit the Sistine chapel or museum but, time waits for no man. One good thing to come from this frustration is the knowledge that we will come back to Rome in the future, better prepared, a little wiser, and maybe even for a month next time, so much is being left undiscovered.
When we exit, I head straight for the postcards and send a card home to my mum, complete with Papal stamp, posted right there in the Vatican City. She'll like that. Once again we head away feeling like we only managed to scratch the surface. The Metro on our return leg is heaving with people, as indeed the bus will be for the second leg of our trip back. It's been standing room only on both for the last four days and the novelty is fading fast. When we get back to the site, there's just enough time to pack all Harrys gear away, ready for his departure the following morning. The plan is for him to bed down on the floor of the van, not ideal but with the taxi arriving at 8.30am, we don't want to take any chances in not being ready. After Harry is bundled in to the taxi at 8.27 precisely, I instruct the driver to 'make sure he leaves the country!' and get straight back in to bed, where I stay until 11am. Lovely.

Venice

After Harry had returned home, we took a day off from sight seeing and had a chat as to what we would do next. The original plan had been to stay on a site near the Amalfi coast and visit said coast by car. By the way, if you read this and you have a caravan or motorhome, forget driving along the Amalfi coast with it, the road is completely closed to all such vehicles, and has been for some time. The police will simply wave you on.

Piazza Venezia

The day after our visit to the Colosseum, Sue decided to have a rest day, frankly, I didn't blame her and would have had one myself except that the nephew now had only four more days in Italy, before he had to catch his flight back to Manchester.

Anyway, Harry nephew and I left Sue to her book and headed for the bus stop, but not before buying a couple of beers to stash in the fridge, so as to be good and cold on our return!
When we got to the Metro station, we decided to have a cheese and ham toasty, along with a cappuccino at the busy little station cafe, there was no rush, I think the trains were every 15 minutes or so and it gave us a chance to chat about what we were going to do.

Brunch over, we went on to the platform and felt quite smug about our timing, the digital display hanging above the platform showed that the next train was due in two minutes. One uneventful journey later, and we got off at the 'Colosseum' stop, as we had the day before. As we left the station, we still had to stop and pay our respects to the mighty Colosseum before we turned away from it.

We headed in the direction of the winged horsemen. Skirting the Roman Forum on the right, we had no sooner started than we were confronted by more ruins, and archaeological digs, along with bronze statues of Julius Caesar, then there was the huge, 40 metre high, Trajans column with St Peter standing on the top. To our left, the building that is the, Victor Emmanuel Monument, started to unfold, the top of which we had seen from behind, during our walk around the Roman Forum. It was incredible to see it in all of it's glory. I'm not going to recite facts and figures about it here but, suffice is to say that it is on a grand scale and worthy of a visit to Rome, in itself. 

Several dozen photos later, we moved in a direction that we hoped would lead to the River Tiber. We had seen on the map that there was an island in the river, suitably named Tiber Island. It's boat shaped. OK, I wasn't impressed. I've seen it described as 'magical' well, maybe like beauty, it's in the eye of the beholder. By now we were casually wandering past all manner of ancient buildings and remains. We didn't intend to, it's just that it was all getting a tad overwhelming. You could quite honestly spend a full day just on one street in Rome. We were never going to do it justice in 4 days, that was abundantly clear!  We left the river to cast it's spell over others and headed along some of the back streets to find a suitable watering hole, before heading back for the station. Another whole day had passed in a blur. We got back just before dark and Sue, bless her, had a hot meal waiting for us. We sat outside and talked about our day, and consumed our well earned, now nicely chilled beer. Tomorrow was going to be another busy day with the Trevi fountain and Pantheon on the cards. I could do with a rest day myself now!

The Colosseum

When you look at Rome on the map, with it's big ring road, you can be forgiven for wondering how it's going to go for you in a motorhome. The other big question is, 'hop on, hop off' bus, or walking. We'd learned a lesson in Barcelona with the tourist bus. They are OK but in reality, you're better off walking in Barcelona, much better. Would the same apply to Rome, or is it just too big?

We had our sights on an ACSI site that was inside the ring road but for the time we wanted to visit, there was a two week window where the ACSI card, and therefore the discount, didn't apply. We settled on a site with the unfortunate name of 'Camping Fabulous' It had the advantage of not being too far away from the airports, something we had to think about now Harry's' visit drawing to a close. 

We chose Camping Fabulous because of the good reviews and the fact that it was 100 metres from the bus stop, that would take us into Rome, well, to the Metro station to be precise. The train would then take us into Rome. I was still unsure as to how all this would work out but, there was only one way to find out!

The pitches at Fabulous are a reasonable size but covered with pine needles, of which I am not a fan. Still, beggars can't be choosers, as they say. The site itself is huge with a couple of outdoor pools, restaurant, supermarket, information centre, and a wonderfully helpful reception where they will load you up with information, sell you bus/metro tickets, even give you a complimentary map of Rome. Things were looking up!

Harry, the Yorkie was very much on the mend and we felt happy to leave him snoozing in the van for half a day, while we all did the tourist thing. The map, provided to us by reception, did a great job of showing us where all the places of interest were in Rome, and even which train line to use to get there.

The bus was great, running every half an hour or so, and would take us to the bus station which was conveniently located next to the metro station. We decided that our first port of call, had to be the Colosseum!

It couldn't have been easier, we got off the bus at the station and walked all of 5 yards into the metro station, and boarded the train. The map shows all the stops on the train line and someone even had the good sense to name the Colosseum stop, 'Colosseum!' Not hard really is it? We got off at the stop and as we exited the station to our delight and surprise, the Colosseum was right there in front of us. No searching for this prize.

As we were doing half a day to begin with, both in consideration of the dog, and to allow us to get a feel for how things were going to be, it was late afternoon when we arrived at the Colosseum. Plenty of people about, but no queue for tickets. Brilliant! We paid our 12 euros each for the ticket, which also included entry into the Roman Forum area.

The Colosseum is breathtaking up close. It seems to look down defiantly at everyone milling around, taking photos. If the walls could talk, I'd be more than happy to listen. Inside was no less grand. The norm seems to be to just stand and look, in silence. Trying to soak in the history of the place and wonder how things were in it's heyday. Then of course there's the taking of pictures, and why not. No sense in not having a visual record of your visit now is there? This was a great start to our stay in Rome. 

When we came out, we headed for the Roman Forum but not before stopping to marvel at the Arch of Constantine and taking a few more photos.
The Roman Forum is a bit of a strange one, in the sense that, you just produce your ticket to gain access then you are left to it. If ever a guided tour was called for, this was it but, there didn't appear to be anything on offer. It's a huge area and it's littered with broken columns, buildings and ruins.

In truth, we were content to just wander around, the same as everyone else, and read the occasional information plaque. Before we knew it, it was 7pm and they were not far off closing for the day. I really could have spent hours more in there, just marvelling at everything. We had noticed in the distance, standing tall above the surrounding buildings, the tops of something white that had, what looked like, winged horsemen atop of them. We were out of time for this particular day, it would be dark before we got back to the site as it was but, we were definitely going to have to return to find out what they were.

Pisa

We got the 11.30am bus from the site, into Pisa. The bus timetables strike me as a bit odd as, there was a bus back at 2.30pm then the next one wasn't until 6.05pm, and the next after that was 8pm. This doesn't sound too bad until you realise how little time you will actually spend in Pisa, seeing the sights.

Pleasant stroll

Alice from the site at Tamerici dropped us off at the bus stop which saved us about a one kilometre walk, and was gratefully accepted! The bus stops in the nearby village for ten minutes or so and the bus driver spent the whole time chatting to us, asking where we were from, football, the weather, his desire to visit England, he was lovely.
When we got to Pisa, he told us to stay on the bus after the last stop, and he would show us where we needed to get the return bus from, later that day. How's that for service?

'To me, to you...'

Although we went into Pisa twice, first time Sue and me, second time, me with Harry the nephew, (see When Harry met Harry) I've included pictures from both visits, so as not to overcook the Pisa visits or, hopefully, confuse anyone!

River Arno

Pisa is a nice place to wander around town without any fear of getting hopelessly lost and, just about everyone, is heading for the tower or coming away from the tower. The city is split by the tuscan river Arno but it hardly gets a mention. There's also a small curch on the banks of the river Arno, the Santa Maria Della Spina, dating from 1200, barely a mention. That tower is stealing all the glory!

Santa Maria Church

We walked through a smaller version of Barcelona's 'La Ramblas' and came to the wall which makes up the Piazza del Duomo, inside which is Cathedral square.
Which ever direction you take to Cathedral Square, the effect when you first see the leaning tower, will be the same. 

Entrance to the Piazza

It's enormous! Far bigger than I had anticipated and truly impressive. The lean, for which it is most well known, of course, is far greater than anticipated from any pictures you may have seen. I think that this is because most photos can't capture the true lean given the areas from which the pictures have to be taken. 

Harry let's his 'cool' slip, to pose

There's a large area of manicured lawn that no one is allowed on to. This restricts the angle at which pictures can be taken. Cathedral square is in itself an amazing place housing the Steeple (leaning tower, to you and me!) the Cathedral, the Baptistry, and the Graveyard. Still, no matter which way you look at it, the tower steals the show.

When Harry met Harry (cont)

The next morning, we waited for the pet hospital to ring us with an update. It never came In the end, we rang him and they said he was 'calmer' but that they were not happy with releasing him until he had eaten, something he had refused to do overnight.

We told them that we were coming to collect him. We were both far from happy with the way this was proceeding. When we got there, we were again told that he had to eat something before they would release him. Undeterred we simply took him from the cage they had left him in, and asked if we needed to sign anything, he wasn't spending another minute in there.

Of course there was a bill to pay. It's quite expensive to have your dog sleep in a cage and not eat any food. Nonetheless, we paid it without fuss and set off back to the site. We could monitor him ourselves. We just hoped we had made the right decision.

Harry's current condition meant that we had to adjust our plans as we couldn't leave him alone in the van which, had it been just the two of us, wouldn't have been an issue but, Harry nephew had to be considered.

After we all had a chat it was agreed that I would take Harry in to Pisa the next morning, then when we moved on to Florence, Sue would visit the city with Harry nephew and I would stay back at the van.

To his great credit, Harry nephew was just brilliant about the whole situation. He just told us that if we needed to take a couple of days off to monitor the dog, then he understood, and was fine with it. We are both grateful to him for that.

When Harry met Harry

Pisa was almost a no show for us. Too many people had said that, once you've seen the tower, there isn't much else to see. Barry, the aussie we'd met at the last site put it into perspective for us when he said, 'I can't come all this way and then tell people back home that I didn't go to Pisa, when we were so close to it.' That got me thinking, and he was right. So what if the internet is full of people 'holding up' the tower, and maybe there wasn't much else to see or do but, we should still decide for ourselves, otherwise, we might as well stay at home and look at the pictures on the internet.

You should see for yourself!

We headed for Camping Lago Le Tamerici where we knew we could get a bus to Pisa. As we got near we passed the back of Pisa airport, significant only because, our nephew, Harry Watkinson had shown an interest in joining us in Italy for a few days. The plan was to fly over, rent a chalet, or similar on the site were were on, spend a few days in Italy, then fly home. Pisa airport being this close presented an opportunity for him to get more out of his trip. 

I contacted him via messenger and suggested that, if he got himself a tent, he could fly out to Pisa, then move on with us to Florence, and then down to Rome. A much better prospect for him than a one site, few day visit.

This suggestion was greeted enthusiastically by him, but also set his head spinning as there was a deadline. We couldn't sit around for weeks waiting for him to 'prepare' so it was, in the next week or never! Luckily for him, he works for his dad, Gary, and getting some time off at short notice was not a problem.
It was all set then, he would fly out on the following Saturday and begin his Italian adventure.

In the meantime, we decided that rather than sit around, we would go in to Pisa and do the visit, that way when Harry came out, we would have a better idea of where we were going.

At Tamerici, you can get a lift down to the bus stop from staff at the site, which we took advantage of. Frederica and Alice were amazing while we were there and made us feel very welcome in the idyllic surroundings of the site. One of the things that they helped us with, was finding a vet for the other Harry, Sues' Yorkie, who appeared to have an ear infection. We took him off to the vet hospital near Pisa, where he was prescribed ear drops, a painkiller spray and antibiotics.

'I don't feel well....'

Sue administered a couple of the drops later that morning and Harry slept for a few hours. We tried to rouse him some time later as, even though we thought that maybe the drops and spray had made him drowsy, he hadn't so much as lifted his head for too long a time.
When we got his attention, his eyes were flickering side to side and he seemed a bit spaced out. We carried him outside and he could hardly stand. We put it down, yet again, to the painkiller spray and drops making him drowsy.

The next morning, although not in any discomfort, he was pretty much the same. Now we knew that this wasn't right and took him back to the vet hospital. 

Times like this are when you feel the full frustration of not having the language. Three people were in the room and all, it seemed, had their own diagnosis. 'He's going blind' announced one. 'He's deaf' announced another, 'It looks like a mental disorder' declared the third. Unfortunately, the Vet that had seen him the day before wasn't on duty and it was hard to get through to these three, exactly how he had been the day before.

One of the vets motioned to one of the men in the room to hold Harry while she looked in his ears. Harry screamed and howled while this went on, so much so, I had to leave the room. Sue stayed and could only watch as her 'baby' went through this seemingly rough treatment. When Sue came out, minus Harry, she told me that they wanted to keep him in for observation.

'Will this affect my driving?'

We drove back to the site, wondering what the hell we had done to him. It was almost beyond belief that he was in this state.
We had to compose ourselves however, as Harry the nephew was due to land at Pisa airport in the next hour or so. We had no sooner got back, when we had to set off to the airport.

We both agreed that we had to focus on his arrival and try not to let the dogs situation affect things. It wasn't Harry W's fault that this had happened. He was spending his hard earned money to come here, encouraged by us, and we owed him our full attention.

It was good to see the 'rocker' Harry, who turned up looking like a well travelled hippy with his long hair and beard. The only thing that gave him away was his shiny new backpack and tent.
Time flies and I had him down for 19 years of age, give or take. He's 24! How did that happen? Ah well, I guess we lose track.

Settled in.

We explained the situation with his namesake, and he was, as we expected, very understanding. It was going to impact on his time with us, there was no avoiding it but, we would do our best to minimise it.

How to look Italian, two hours after arriving!

We got Harry set up in his brand new tent in the same pitch as the van, and set about feeding him in the on site restaurant which overlooks the lake. His first Italian pizza and beer, and I need to stop talking about him as though he's 13 years old! That night Sue and I discussed the situation regarding the dog and made our decision......Continue reading 

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Cinque Terre

The train from Sestri Levante, covers all 5 villages that make up the Cinque Terre, Monterosso, Vernazza, Manarola, Corniglia and Riomaggiore, as does the ticket. Tickets have to be validated before you board the train so, make sure you do that before you get on!

First stop is Monterosso and it's a lovely place. The station is a bit manic with tourists a-plenty rushing from platform to platform but, that's understandable I suppose. The temptation for us was to try and take in all 5 stops in one day. You may manage it, we didn't and in truth, I would suggest that you need at least two days to do them justice.

There's some legwork to be done, in order to get the best views.

We were going to walk to Vernazza, as a lot of other people were doing but, after just a hundred yards or so, got seduced in to a seafront cafe for a spot of brunch, and that was that!

Two and a half hour hike, or lunch? Hmmmm

We did have a walk around though before we got the train to the next village.

The trains are very efficient and provide a great service up and down the line of villages and, if you are on a tight schedule, this is definitely the way to go.

We visited the next village of Vernazza, and very nice it was too but, by the time you've had a good look around, maybe had a bite to eat, or even just a drink, the realisation that all five won't be achieved on the same day, hits home.

Best views? On high or from the sea.

We decided to get the train to the last stop, Riomaggiore, and see how we were doing on time before deciding which, if any, of the remaining two we would visit on the way back. As it turned out, Riomaggiore didn't float the boat of either of us and it's a lot of work in the heat of the day, climbing the steep roads or trying to get higher to snap some good pics.

A Bit too much hype maybe?

By 4.30 pm we decided to call it a draw and head back. I can see why people like the villages but in truth, they are best seen either from  on high, or from the sea. I would have liked to see them at night, just to see them lit. It wasn't to be and our first day visiting the Cinque Terre, proved to be our last.

I can see the appeal but, not really my thing.

It had been a pleasant enough day out but, in all honesty, I was hoping that Italy was hiding it's best silverware, just awaiting our arrival, elsewhere.

Now, isn't there a leaning tower somewhere in Italy?

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Sestri Levante

This is our first time in Italy. Even as I write this, I can hardly believe it. We've had holidays all over the place and yet, Italy never came up as an option. We've now been here for over a month and I can tell you, we both feel like we've been missing out!

I had a read up on the internet before we left France, and was left dreading the fines that may, or may not arrive, some time after we have left, for parking in the wrong place, or driving in the wrong bit of town. They may yet still arrive but, if they do, I'll take the view that it was worth it.

The Sat' Nav gives me two options for our first leg in Italy from France. Toll road, 3 hours, no toll road, 9.5 hours! OK, it was going to be like that was it? Once you start through the many tunnels in Italy though, you understand the charge and, all things considered, it could have cost a lot more. All the same, I won't complain about my road tax in the UK any more. Well, not for a while anyway.

Barry & Wendy

Our first stop was a site called Fossa Lupara, at Sestri Levante. The pitches were small, and a bit scruffy but, the showers were good and they had a decent bar & restaurant. By now, we're taking the view that the sites are just somewhere safe to sleep and we are not expecting the Garden of Eden.

We got chatting to an Australian couple, Barry & Wendy, from Australia. They had bought a van over in the UK and set off for France. Now they had just returned from the Cinque Terre and filled us in about the trains and validating tickets. They were a fun couple and I liked Barry right away. I think the feeling was mutual, even after I managed to spill a full beer on him in the bar that night! (Sorry Barry!)

I want to see the owner mowing it...

I'm sure that the temptation is to head straight for the Cinque Terre but, don't overlook the town of Sestri Levante. It was right around the corner from the train station and, in my view, a better visit than some of the villages amongst the Cinque Terre, not least because it's flat, and that makes it easy to cycle around.

"Just one Cornetto.....alright, I'll leave it there..

It's a lovely place and, if you go, make sure you don't miss the Bay de Silencio.

Bay de Silencio

It's hidden around a corner and is quite a surprise. The 'Fisherman' in the picture is in the shallows of the bay, that's when you know you've found it.

After our mini tour, we headed to the train station to check if we could cycle there and lock the bikes up, when we got the train to the Cinque Terre the next day. We could, and did, and it saved us a 40 minute walk each way.

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Essaouira

We managed to prise ourselves out of Camping Atlantica, well, we had to leave sometime, and headed for Essaouira, along the West coast. Described as 'Everyone's favourite seaside resort' we had decided that we would just go there and have a 'holiday'

Being popular meant that it was hard to get at for motor homes, and I didn't fancy winging it, and driving into the town, only to be met with narrow streets and one way only roads. I have to say though that, wherever we've been, there always seems to be at least one motorhome on a side street, right in the thick of it. I take my hat off to them, they're braver than we are!

We headed for Camping Le Calme on the outskirts of Essaouira, which was only a bus ride away from the town. Le Calme is primarily a Chambre d'hote, and very nice too, with a lovely swimming pool, and well kept grounds that are nicely lit at night.

The camping side of things could have been better, but it served it's purpose and met with our needs.

We took the bus in to Essaouira and got off right outside the Medina. Sure enough, there was a motorhome on the car park, right opposite. We had a wander over and chatted to him. He told us that it was a couple of euros to park and in the two nights he'd been there, he had not had any bother at all.

I looked around at the collection of wagons on the car park and decided that we had made the right decision. It certainly wasn't quiet!

Sue then dragged me off so that we could get in to the Medina. In fact she charged off as though there was a Gucci handbag, half price sale on!

The Medina was good fun, we even had lunch while we were in there. The goods on sale seem to be evenly split between the usual tatt aimed at tourists, and fresh produce, primarily aimed at the local market. 

Mind you, that didn't stop us buying a jewellery box, with a hidden compartment in which the key could be found. I love things like that and, after some painful haggling in which Sue has a Masters Degree, the box was ours.

'Leave this to me..'

Lunch, maybe a little predictably, was chicken tagine with rice at the '3 doors' restaurant in the Medina. Once we had placed our order, I noticed that the chef had left the restaurant. Five minutes or so and he was back, with what appeared to be chicken in a bag. I guess they were taken by surprise with actual diners showing up then!

We had to wait a while for our meal but, at least we knew that it was going to be cooked fresh, fresh from one of the stalls in the Medina! It was very tasty and it was nice to have saffron rice with a tagine for a change, instead of the usual chunky vegetables. It later proved to have the same effect on me as the rest of the meat I'd consumed in Morocco. It was nice while it lasted though!

After a couple of hours of being promised 'best price' on everything from local art work, to Morocco's herbal answer to Viagra, we headed off to get the bus.

The bus took an age to get us back, and must have had 50 more people on board, than it was permitted to carry. The novelty was starting to wear off.

The next day we packed up and moved to the very edge of Essaouira. This was to be our first 'guardian' parking experience, on a car park with no facilities. It was pretty full and the vans were barely six feet apart but, no one seemed to mind.

We cycled along the front at Essaouira which was nice enough, nothing special but pleasant. It brought us to the fishing port on one side, and the top end of the Medina on the other.

If you go there, visit the fishing port above all else. It really is like stepping back in time. I loved the atmosphere of the place.

After 2 nights, it was time to move on again, we needed to empty the tanks and get some fresh water on board plus, being confined to the van, with no real access to outside space, tends to make you a bit stir crazy after a while.

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Argan Tree Goats

Driving north along the West coast of Morocco, towards Essaouira, brings some amazing sights and views. 

Coffee break

It's nice to see that it has hardly been developed at all. That's a good thing and I for one, hope it stays that way. I would hate to see it end up looking like some of Spain's coastline.

Coastal Village

We stopped on more than once occasion to take in the views. Once we drove down to visit a quiet little village where, fishing was clearly the order of the day.

The beach was littered with fishing boats, probably waiting for the next mornings launch into what looked like some very choppy Atlantic waters.

We also stopped to take pictures of this house on the coast, just because it stood out, and looked lovely in it's coastal setting.

The best though, was saved for last. As we drove, mile after mile through Argan tree country, we kept a watchful eye out for the goats, famed for their climbing exploits, in pursuit of the trees fruit.

It seems that this practice is largely discouraged now, as the goats cause too much damage to the trees but, just as we had almost given up hope, I spotted one in a tree just off to our left.

'Throw a few down for me then!"

I yelled at Sue, almost giving her a heart attack and turned the van around. The goat was one of several and their female herder was in tow. We took a couple of small cakes and a few dinar and greeted her with a friendly 'bonjour'.

Two of the goats were in the tree attempting to strip it of it's treasure, and a third was desperately trying to join them.
We gestured to the lady herder with the camera and asked her if it was OK to take pictures.

'And what are you staring at?'

With that, she leaped on an unsuspecting kid, and before you could say cheese, draped it around Sues' neck! In for a penny, I thought, and snapped away.

That suits you my dear....

A few pictures later, we bade her farewell with a grateful 'merci'. We, with some priceless pictures, the lady herder with 40 dirham and a couple of cakes, by way of thanks for her hospitality.

You would think that I had just spotted the Yeti or the Loch Ness monster, I was absolutely delighted. 

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Markets

When does a market become a Souk? Well, I still don't know the answer and, in truth, I'm not sure that it really matters all that much, just so long as you visit one or two during your time in Morocco.

Now flush with our success on the local buses, we opted to take another trip into another town to visit the market. If, like us, you've only ever seen pictures of such places on the internet, then you are in for a real treat, the first time that you visit one!

Drawn in by the smells and colours, like a child would be.

They are crazy busy! There is produce piled on the floor, as high as your waist. There are stalls selling herbs and spices that draw you in with their hypnotic colours and aromas. Young lads wander up and down what passes for aisles, selling shopping bags to those who came without.
There are people everywhere and if you want to find where the fresh fish is being sold, just follow your nose!

Don't wander off, I'll never find you!

The noise of the place seems entirely in keeping with the apparent chaos of the market. This one was, seemingly, thrown together on a hill, which just added to the sense of adventure as we wandered between selling pitches and stalls.

Pile 'em high, sell 'em cheap

When you stroll past the many fresh veg, stalls, the boss will throw a bowl in your direction, instructing you to fill it up. Well, who could resist? Sue took the bowl and piled in potatoes, carrots, and onions and, when she thought it was full enough for our needs, she passed it over to be weighed. You may know that the contents of the bowl are charged by weight, regardless of whats actually in there!

There's only two of us, remember!

Not content with the final weigh in, the man in charge added some more until a satisfactory weight was achieved. No short changing going on here! He tipped the lot into our newly acquired shopping bag, and we handed over 20 dirham.
Everyone was happy, and off we went.

'This will look lovely in the lounge dahling'

Upcycling is one of the new buzz phrases in the decadent West but, on Moroccan markets, they've been at it for centuries without the need for buzz words or prompting. You can buy everything from rusty, straightened out nails to awning mats made from woven plastic threads. Speaking of which, we did just that, bought an awning mat, that is, not the rusty nails.

He didn't mind posing for a pic' much to the amusement of his father, out of shot on the right.

We had seen them outside many a Motorhome in Morocco. They look great and come in all manner of vibrant colours and, at just 20 euros for a 4 x 3 meter piece, they are great value too compared to off the shelf awning mats. I'm not sure that the 'Caravan Club' would approve though! 

TV In The Van

The TV in the van is an  Avtex, which can run on either mains electric, or 12 volt. We've not used it that much really except for the occasional dvd, and even then mostly when on hook up. 

Don't get me wrong, we didn't come away to watch TV but, when it's going dark at 5pm and the budget doesn't allow for socialising, then there are only so many books you can read, or blogs you can write.

There is an aerial on the van and we've tried here and there, to get the TV on, with limited success. One particular night, we get on to a station showing a movie, I forget what it was, but it was clearly American. 

Good enough unless you miss UK T.V. too much.

It's in Spanish which is fair enough, as we're in Spain. I have a brainwave and wonder if we can select subtitles in English. Not likely, but you never know!

As I'm going through the various buttons on the remote, a minor miracle happens, on pressing the 'language' button, the dialogue in the film changes from Spanish, to English! 

When I say English, of course I mean, it changes to the original movie dialogue, in this case, American English. We can't believe it, it has the same impact on us as a modest lottery win. 

Easy enough, when you know!

Neither one of us had any idea that such things were possible. So now, where we can pick up local TV, we scan the channels for a likely looking movie, or series, hit the language button, and we're away!

Two days after our 'discovery' we are in Morocco so, all celebrations are put on hold for the next seven weeks. That's ok, we'll take our victories where we can get them.

A quick word about the Avtex tv, miracles aside. They have a great reputation, and it's well deserved. We bought ours second hand and the picture quality is superb.

Make Avtex your only choice.

There are no angle issues when viewing, it has a built in DVD player, and you can play content in MP4 format, right off a usb memory stick. They are not cheap, even the second hand ones. 

People in the know, snap them up for good money on eBay. And with good reason. You only want to buy one tv for your motorhome. Caravan, or what have you. Treat yourself, get an Avtex. 

Don't fall for the 70 quid led whatever brand, because you'll be disappointed. You get what you pay for. As I keep on insisting, on finding out the hard way!

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Return from Morocco

There are 6 days left before our Green card expires. We can extend it if we ring the insurance company and pay a £20 admin fee but, we've chosen to return to Spain.

The drive to Tangier Ville port is about an hour and a half from where we are, and the first ferry is at 10am. We don't want to miss it and so, we set the alarm for 6am. Our limited experience has taught us that we can never get under way in less than an hour, no matter how organised we get the night before!

The insistent alarm takes half an hour to make us respond, oh well. We get on the road at half seven.

It's Saturday 6th Feb and our seven weeks in Morocco are coming to an end.

As we check in at the ferry port, much less fuss than when we arrived, the police want to check the van with a drugs dog, just in case we got ambitious in the Rif mountains.

It's a funny moment for all concerned, as the police dog proceeds to head straight for Harry's food bowl, and help himself. The officer gives the dog a telling off and the search concludes with no concerns. 

When they get out of the van, Harry sets off barking at the big Alsation, probably In protest at his food being pilfered. This gets a laugh from both us and the police. It's not a good idea for a Yorkie to mix it up with an Alsation but, can you tell them that?

We arrive in Spain shortly after 11 am and have to add an hour to meet local time. It's a strange feeling. Tarifa feels familiar and homely. We've on,y been once before and that was on the way to Morocco but now after the completely unfamiliar stay in Morocco, it feels like we've arrived home. A very odd feeling.

First port of call? Supermarket in Tarifa. Salad stuff and fruit and ham, who thought you could miss ham so much? Salad foods you can buy a plenty in Morocco but, I'm not convinced that it comes without risk and although we do eat plenty of tomatoes, fruit, lettuce and the like, somehow it wasn't the same. Probably psychological but not to worry. 

I'm looking forward to a ham salad with beetroot and cucumber and taziki and hummus. Anyway, on the way out we spot a great find in a an outdoor self service laundry place. Brilliant idea and the machine takes up to 14 kilos. Sue has been insisting that the quilt smells of sweat, how nice, for a couple of weeks now, and isn't about to let this opportunity pass by. 

Six euros later and the quilt, and currently in use sheet and quilt cover, pillow cases and all are tumbling away in the machine. Next, into the big dryer, no good to us wet obviously, and an hour or so later we've got Spring fresh bedding. I have to admit it smells so good now that I could be convinced to call it a day and get right in there!

Next stop. The garage where we know we can fill up the lpg tanks. We've even saved the GPS data in the sat nav, how organised are we? One of the tanks is completely empty and has been for a a week or so. 

As at 2015/16 you can't get lpg in Morocco although I'm confident that, that will change in the not too distant future. It takes 22 litres at the pump to fill both bottles and cost around 12 euros. Good. value this lpg stuff!. 

Next? Well, it has to be Gibraltar. Two reasons really. It's duty free, and Morrisons. Good old Morrisons. Semi skimmed milk, carling beer, Jaffa cakes, malt bread, sausages, sirloin steaks, I could go on but, you get the picture. I'm a Philistine and proud of it.

One trolley dash later, we drive across the car park to the petrol station to top up the diesel. It's 58 pence a litre. In the UK as I write this, there's a big hurrah going on because diesel has dropped to a £1 per litre.and it hasn't been that price since 2007. 58 pence per litre. I'm surprised that half of Spain isn't lined up at the border waiting to fill up!

We park at the local club car park at La Linea, just as we did before we left for Morocco. On that occasion, there were 4 other vans there. When we get there this time, there are 30! Whether it's always this popular in Feb' we don't know but, it's certainly popular at the moment!

On this particular Saturday, the club have a match on. As local teams go, it must be a fierce rival and as what remains of the car park fills up with fans arriving in cars, the police show up in force, complete with dogs and vans, presumably to whisk any over enthusiastic fans away. I checked...they played Algeciras and won 1-0.

The car park is packed and it all gets too much for one young German guy in his motorhome and he prepares to leave. As he's hitching his trailer onto the van, I ask him if he's ok. He does look worried. He says that he doesn't like it and I think that he feels that there will be trouble after the game. 

We'd been told beforehand that when there's a match on that it gets a bit like sardines on the car park so we're not unduly concerned. The German guy however, is having nine of it. He wishes us 'good luck' and scarpers before the game starts.

In spite of all the chanting at each other, and the police line separating the two sets of fans, once the game is over, they all just quietly disappear as quickly as they arrived.