Advertisement
In the wild October night-time, when the wind raved round the
land,
And the Back-sea met the front-sea, and our doors were blocked
with sand,
And we heard the drub of dead-man's bay, where the bones of
thousands are,
We knew not what the day had done for us at Trafalgar.
Had done,
Had done,
For us at Trafalgar!
'Pull hard, and make the nothe, or down we go!' One says,
says he.
We pulled; and bedtime brought the storm; but snug at home
slept we.
Yet all the while our gallants after fighting through the day,
Were beating up and down the dark, sou'west of Cadiz Bay.
The dark,
The dark,
Sou'west of Cadiz Bay!
The victors and the vanquished then the storm it tossed and tore,
As hard they strove, those worn-out men, upon that surly shore;
Dead Nelson and his half dead crew, his foes from near and far,
Were rolled together on the deep that night at Trafalgar!
The deep,
The deep,
That night at Trafalgar!
Those stirring words from Thomas Hardy should give the dear reader a strong clue to where your correspondent travelled to next. Yes indeed, we were pitched close to
where the Trafalgar lighthouse stands proud. To be quite honest, I was never quite sure where Trafalgar actually was (and I am not alone in this it transpires), but it is most definitely not outside the door of the National Gallery !!!! More of this later, but how did we get here you ask.....
.... high tailing it from Dirk we legged it further south to a big rock at the bottom of Spain that some call Gibraltar. Neither myself, Wendy the Navigator nor Cusco the Quartermaster had been here in previous blogs so we thought it a good time to investigate. Parking up at a very posh marina with it's own security patrols, we left Claude the Van and set off on foot to the looming size of Gib. During our travels people had told us of the fun to be had here - one particular highlight mentioned was that there is a Morrison's shop !!! Verily, I was a quivering heap of anticipation.
After crossing two runways we entered the main street and the heart of your correspondent sank as quickly as a bath containing three spiny anteaters none of which had put the plug in
before setting to sea. It was mini Britain!!!! It was everything we had thought to leave behind. It had a bloody M&S which brought back nightmares of under staffing !!! One thing I truly love about France and Spain is that in towns at least 80% of stores are local independent shops. This gives each town it's own identity and makes travelling much more interesting. In the UK every high street looks identical - same shops, bookies, etc... you could be blindfolded placed anywhere and you wouldn't know any different from your own town. Very Stepford Shops indeed.
Anyway that was our trip to Gibraltar. We could not go up to see the monkeys as Cusco would have caused a small riot, so after Wendy the Navigator demolished a steak pie and chips we left the tourists to the safety of their own home from home. We stopped briefly at Tarifa from where Africa is within touching distance and provided me with a chance to look for zebras, lions and pyramids with the aid of my binoculars - I saw not one.
The camp site we were heading for, had been recommended by Phillipa, Allen and Harley the
hound. They had been brave trailblazers a year or so ago in their monster motorhome and had raved about this location. It is named Pinar San Jose and is beside a small village called Zahora and the beach facing out to Trafalgar. We booked in for two nights and stayed for three weeks - easily the happiest and most relaxed we had felt on our travels. A great pitch where Cusco would be tied to the wheel on his 10 metre lead so he could politely greet anyone who strolled past with an uncontrolled barking frenzy - the other travellers loved him so much !!! I jest, he would sit in the sun and many people would come over and say hello, bon jour, hola, guten morgen to him. Your correspondent would sit and observe these meetings through a haze of sunstroke and sherry.
Amid the searing heat, several thunderstorms would roll in off the Atlantic, we would walk and explore the area, up hills, through woulds, local towns, but always at least once a day to stroll along the gorgeous beach towards Trafalgar point - to stand and wonder and imagine the noise and smell of battle and
also to visit a great tapas bar for beer and chorizo!!! Some things are worth fighting for of course. Cadiz was only a short trip up the road, but sadly it was a visit made in the midst of a tropical rain storm and Cusco padded behind us soaked and dripping as wet as a spiny anteater whose bath had sunk at sea. Cadiz certainly looked spectacular, but as trench foot was setting in, we decided to return another day.
If you are ever in this area of Spain, you should always keep an eye open for processionary caterpillars - especially if you have a dog. I will leave you to research them yourselves dear readers, but if you ever come across them, run as fast as you can in the opposite direction after setting fire to them. Extremely dangerous they are.
Your correspondent could write three blogs about how much we enjoyed this place, but will leave you with the words of Wendy the Navigator, who summed it up perfectly when she said " I love this place."
Advertisement
Tot: 0.26s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 10; qc: 50; dbt: 0.0546s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
John
non-member comment
GGG
Great Post! Great Pictures! Great plate of fried fish! Sounds a must for the future planning diary!