The vagaries of travel

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Today is another of those designated travel days. Its a quick taxi ride to the train station then sitting and waiting for the board to tell us which platform our train will come in to. This is a local train with a lot of stops along the way. The train rolls through thousands of hectares of olive groves and you soon realise why Spain is one of the worlds largest olive oil producers. As I'm looking out the window we roll by a wetland area with a flock of flamingos paddling around. Who knew flamingos lived in Spain. About half way through the trip the conductor brings some small print on my ticket that I hadn't bothered to read to my attention. Apparently at Antequera St Ana we have to get off the train and catch a bus for the remainder of the journey. No problems the Spanish rail people have it all organised with luxury coaches waiting for us. I'm thinking of suggesting the send some people up to teach the French how to operate a rail service. The last hour of the trip is made in luxury pounding along the motorway at around 100km/h.

Our hotel is a couple of kilometres out of the centre this time in a sleepy suburb. For the remainder of the day we find ourselves a laundromat and empty the contents of our packs into the machine. Travelling light is good but you do need to find a laundromat every couple of weeks.

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