El Ejido, Benissa
Post-Wedding Non-Blues
Day 18: People slowly started making their way back home. Our journey was just beginning.
We met dad for lunch in a lovely restaurant full of screaming kids, one of which was the LOUDEST baby I've ever heard. It wasn't just the kids though, there was what sounded like tourette practice going on in a hotel room next door to the restaurant.
The next day was another scorcher (this should be taken for granted) spent at the beach, followed by a meal at a restaurant without a sea-view, but which the manager/some guy claimed had a sea-view. Had a paella which was nowhere near as good as Day 16's (these exact words make sense in the context of this diary, but apparently didn't to the waitress at the time). Rach had a vegetable paella which infuriated me because it meant I would not be passed any shrimp or mussels.
Saw my brother Joe briefly, earlier on in the day during a bar interval. He didn't join us for our return to the beach - he said he was going back to the apartment to recover from the previous night's session, so that he could be fit for drinks later on that night. Me and Rach stayed in to see if we could comfortably fit our sub-standard-paella-fed carcasses in to the double hammock. We struggled.
Most of day 20 was spent relaxing at the campsite, before meeting Alex, Hannah, mum and Gaz for dinner at a place called Restaurant 34. Stunning views and superb food. Only downside was that I was only served 4 - that's four - chips. Devastating.
It was nice to spend some good time with Flo and Hughie, my lovely niece and beautiful nutter nephew. I taught Flo the old fork behind the napkin trick. I asked Hughie to stop hitting me. You've got to love him.
At the end of the evening we said our goodbyes. Our final goodbyes. Mum got upset. That set Rach off. It always does.
Apparently Dostoevsky boasted that most writers take whole books to say what he could say in a single sentence. Well, Fyodor, I rise to the challenge. Allow me to sum up Day 22 in one sentence:
We finally left Nerja and the campsite that had been our home for over a week and made our way to a place called El Ejido, about an hour and a half east along the coast, which took us through many tunnels and over many bridges, which makes Rach's toes go all funny but the roads were actually ideal because they were free, they were flat and the main speed limit was 100kph (62mph) which is exactly the speed the van is limited to and once we got to our destination which I'd picked out - on the increasingly useful park4night app - we were pretty blown away because it was an amazingly clean and pretty beach with loads of room to park right on the sea with only a few other visitors and the sea was warmer than Nerja and cleaner and there was a beautiful sunset and we couldn't stop taking pictures and I arranged the seating on the van into a U-shape for the first time and we had a swim and I had the cricket on the radio where England were getting battered by Ireland which is mental but still, it's been one of the best overnight stops yet and we looked at the stars, some of which were shooting.
There.
On day 23 we stopped by the sea again, a bit further along the coast, but this place wasn't as nice - too many flies and I lost my sunglasses in the sea. I suppose the sunglasses problem was more my fault. Anyway, thanks to the flies and the blinding sand being blown into the van from the growing winds outside, we were quite happy to move on the following morning.
On day 23 we stopped by the sea again, a bit further along the coast, but this place wasn't as nice - too many flies and I lost my sunglasses in the sea. I suppose the sunglasses problem was more my fault. Anyway, thanks to the flies and the blinding sand being blown into the van from the growing winds outside, we were quite happy to move on the following morning.
Driving through Spain, the scenery is so distinctive, especially travelling along the motorways. I'm not exactly sure if I'm a fan, but it is distinctive. It's all scorched earth, craggy rocks and mountains. Yellows, browns and dark greens.
We headed towards a place called Denia which I'd previously read was quite nice, but we actually ended up staying in a strange little free spot in Benissa. On the way we talked about all sorts but mainly what we'd like to end up doing with ourselves after all this caper (as my grandad used to say). For now though it's about enjoying ourselves. The place in Benissa was a quirky little spot, with a bar, a pool and loads of tennis courts. The pool was the best I've ever been in. So clear and big. So clear, in fact, that I had to be careful getting my arse out when Rach was testing the GoPro under water, for fear (Rach's fear) that the life bloke might see it.
After a swim, a shower and a nap in the shade, we went back to the van for what can only be described as sexy fun... to the sound of live tennis. Not something I ever thought I'd do to be honest. Wimbledon tickets are so expensive. In the evening, Rach made another class pasta with sauce made from ingredients we
Somewhere between the last stop and Benissa I lost a shoe. The one that still had vomit on it from my pre-wedding escapades. So I chucked the other one in the bin. It's a weird feeling throwing away a perfectly good shoe, but if you've lost it's opposite number, it's the only sensible thing you can do. I stood at the bin for a few moments pondering this before walking back to the van for a tuna sandwich.
Life is moving at a different pace now.
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