Only 9 Apostles left

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Our first couple of weeks in Spain started with us cycling into Pamplona (minus the bull run). It was hot and sunny and full of Pampolese enjoying their Sunday stroll along by the river. Our dog is attached to the bike which by the stares we received told us this was not something normally witnessed in those parts. Next stop was on the north coast near Llanes in a quirky campsite more akin to Hobbiton with pitches cut into the earth in part of a steep hillside. Sadly the weather was overcast but sipping a decent Rioja looking out to the Bay of Biscay wasn’t so bad. Foz was the next pitstop and then on to our destination at Santiago de Compostela. The number of pilgrims we saw from St. Jean Pied de Port onwards was impressive and there are many different paths the pilgrims walk/cycle to get to Santiago. Thousands travel every year the many hundreds of miles to get to this remote part. The city and it’s Cathedral didn’t disappoint with its grandeur and as a bonus there was yet another apostles bones (St. James in this case) which gets me up to three now with 9 to go, I am guessing they didn’t keep Judas’.
Wanting some beach time as the weather had turned warm and sunny we ended up at Xuno beach which was brilliant, almost deserted, apart from our naturist campervan neighbours, so a relaxing couple of days passed quickly. After this an overnight stop at Boiro then Sanxeno where we watched it rain and blow a gale all day. A challenge awaited us next as our refillable gas bottle was running out and our guidebook informed us of only 26 sites in all of Spain for refuelling, one of which was in the city of Vigo close to our intended route. So GPS co-ordinates keyed in we headed into the city searching for the Repsol gas depot, which we duly arrived at only to find to our dismay that the pump had been removed. A helpful elderly chap explained everything in great detail to me in his best Spanish, (of which I understood not a word), however the sign he pointed at gave the address where the pump had been moved to. So grimly determined as we had got that far, we set off and succeeded in locating the fuel station where it had relocated, only to discover that our adaptors didn’t fit the pump nozzle. An extremely helpful assistant when asked (tearfully begged really) brought a boxful of differing brass fittings and quickly selected the right one so we have at least another months worth of LPG to keep us going. A pit stop campsite at Lago de Sanabria was followed by two days in Salamanca which was worth the visit with its impressive 12th century city centre. Segovia was next and an even more complete ancient city with a stunning Roman aqueduct which for all its antiquity looks good for sometime yet. Makes me think about the fact that the Forth road bridge was built and may fail within my lifetime and yet this aqueduct which has no mortar in its stones will last a long-time yet and people still ask “ what have the Romans ever done for us”. There is a something to be said for brutal dictators and slave labour.

The weather this last week has been poor, almost Scottish, but as we head to Granada and then the coast its promises much better, so fingers crossed.

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