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Published: December 3rd 2015
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Four years ago, in the year 2011bc (before Cusco), your correspondent and Wendy were in Quito, the capital city of Ecuador. We were in a restaurant, celebrating an early Christmas with Neil and Nilla who were flying back to Australia. Many laughs were had, lovely food and am immeasurable amount of beer, wine and rum was despatched. Tears of goodbye were said as we all staggered out of the restaurant and the last we heard was that the next morning, Nilla spent most of it throwing up in the airport car park - class act.
Four years later, in the year 2015ac ( after Cusco), myself and the hound had been for a hike along the beach in Cambrils. Wendy was in Barcelona meeting Sue and Karl, so we had a leisurely and happy time throwing and chasing the ball and swimming in the sea. That is,Cusco did all the running and swimming and I merely threw the ball and looked for a nearby bar. We both accomplished our tasks. We wandered back to the campsite and Claude, thinking about an after lunch nap, and just as we turned the corner, we could hear strange voices talking to our neighbour.
Cusco looked at me and I nodded to confirm, that those accents were not of our continent, but from much further a field. In fact, my guess was Australia and the city of Brisbane. No, it couldn't be I thought as a chill flowed through my body. We poked our heads around a hedge and I screamed " RUUUUUNNN !!!" and turned to leg it as fast as I could - it was them, dear readers, it was them !!!!!! Sadly Cusco betrayed me and jogged over to them to say hello and to discover if they had food.
One way conversations with Wendy came flooding back. They were travelling and an agreement had been put in place for us to meet up. As they had left the colony 22 months before, I was under the impression that they had got lost around Ayers Rock or somewhere, and the chances of meeting were slim, if not remote. Not the case at all, they had been travelling around south east Asia, through Russia and in to Poland and the Baltic states, before spending a delightful 6 months in Somerset with Neil's mother. There they purchased Reg and set off through
France and Catalonia to Cambrils. I cursed myself for using the blog to tell people where we are, but invited them to sit outside Claude and offered them some water that was in the kettle. My hospitality knows no bounds. A quick word on their names. Neil is pronounced as it looks - Neil. Nilla is not pronounced Neela, but as in vaNILLA. To make things easier she will be referred to as Van.
With Wendy gallivanting in Barcelona and not back for at least three hours, I thought I would show them some of the local highlights, so after pointing out the local Spar shop, I thought it was time for alcohol, so a trip to Sol y Sombre bar was required. This bar became a firm favourite for us all, with some dramatic sunsets to watch over a few tapas and wines. Thankfully, my fears were allayed and Wendy remembered to return and a joyful reunion was had at the train station. Strangely, both our vans seemed to have filled with rum and wine, almost as if the last four years had not happened and we were picking up from when we had last been together. Neil
and Van (the photographer formerly known as Nilla) quickly got used to the pace of life in this part of the world (very slow and chilled) and we spent a fun week at this campsite with them. Neil and I managed to go to see Barcelona play in the Champion's League, while Wendy and Van had a few hours of having a pedicure at a small salon where it appears they managed to cause much merriment amongst the staff. Meals were had in Reg and Claude, with card and dice games played until we were too drunk to continue.
Then one day, your correspondent announced that we were packing Claude up and leaving Cambrils. "Where are you going?" asked Van, "Valencia" I replied and started banging my head against a tree!!! I had blown our cover!!! We left first and expected to get to the campsite accordingly. That was before we relied on the bloody satnav to find us a supermarket in Valencia, which being a rather large city, should have some. After many arguements and a divorce or two we eventually found a huge Carrefour which was absolutely massive and took up about half of the city -
of course, the satnav did not even know it existed. We arrived at the camp and saw Reg already perked up. We did try to park next to him but the pitch was to small for Claude, so we had to move to the other side of the campsite - honestly, we had to !!!
Valencia is a wonderful city and everybody should make an effort to visit at least once. The campsite was a bit out of the city, so a car was hired as the Chief Spaniel isn't permitted on metro. One day, I will tell you about that trip but not today. Driving around Valencia is certainly an experience. Neil took over the navigation chair while Wendy and Van sat in the back giving such valuable help as juggernauts came careering towards us. We only spent two weeks with them, which was not nearly enough. Especially as spending time with Van gave your correspondent the chance to polish up his sarcasm skills. Am missing them both already, but not as much as Cusco is - Van fed him ham !!!!
Goodbyes were said again, we headed south in Claude while they planned to head back
up to Barcelona to get a boat to Italy where Van has relations - who are all not connected with any historical political groups from the 1930's in the slightest. It explains a lot !!!!
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