Costa Blanca

Thursday morning we flew out of Bristol - snow was falling gracefully on the runway and the aeroplane wings and after a short delay to de-ice the plane we were on our way, floating above the clouds and snow towards sunny Spain for a long weekend.  We'd heard a lot about this place and most of what we had heard proved to be true.  It was reinforced by the plane trip over when a hen party from Wales and a stag party from Wales decided to get to know each other with rather a loud discussion across the aisle (fuelled by a few morning drinks). Do I sound like an old fogey? Probably.  It was interesting though - cos I got to study a bit about group dynamics - rather an entertaining past time when there is little else to do.  In each group there were the extroverts - getting to know you types - who wanted to find out everything about the others.  Then there were the quieter extroverts - who eventually stood up to join in the conversation and made a few remarks at appropriate times.  The quieter ones sat reading a book with a coke on their tray table and some fell asleep (incidentally both the bride and groom to be were in the quieter groups - perhaps they were a bit nervous about what would befall them in the weekend).  So, after that entertainment we collected our little Fiat Panda (Harry may have decided he likes these little cars better than a Toyota - yeah right!! I liked it cos I sat up high and could see out the window).  We navigated ourselves out of the car park and onto the motorway towards Benidorm.   I would be hopeless at driving on the wrong side of the road but Harry manages admirably.  Navigating around roundabouts (which incidentally are rather extravagently decorated with modern art and fountains) I say second on the left, when actually it is first on the right.  Sometimes Harry manages to confuse his right from his left and it just goes to show our inbuilt mechanisms trained over the years often over write our brains.  Benidorm is where the stag and hen party's were heading - need I say more.  Actually it has a lovely little clean and groomed beach, golden sand, cute balls of fluffy looking seaweed, a few beach huts, deck chairs and a promenade to allow people to enjoy the beach without fear of being run over.  And then there is the high rises everywhere (we were on the 18th floor and looked upwards to other rooms in nearby hotels).  It was during our walk around in the evening that I realised how internationally influenced parts of Spain and other European countries have become.  There were English and Irish pubs as always, Chinese and Indian restaurants and even one Polynesian. We really did have trouble finding much that was Spanish.  Even the music catered for the English tourist.  We know cos one night we sat in a pub (I had spied a sign that said 'live music').  We weren't expecting the 1930's and 40's music all in English (except for the singer and those serving at the bar we were the youngest there).  We left after the audience was allowed to sing - two singers was enough - it really was.  So, we sampled tapas and paella sometimes, Chinese one night and Indian another, and I hate to say American (I'll leave that up to your imagination) one afternoon when everything else seemed closed and we needed to eat before heading for the airport. The only one we didn't go for was Italian - but there were plenty of pasta and pizza places around.

In some other ways the weekend was all about food.  We travelled into the countryside and mountain villages every day and there we passed almond trees resplendent in pink and white flowers, orange and lemon trees laden with fruit - some covered in frost protection which from a distance looked like huge lakes sliding down the hills (you do need some imagination!!) and date palms.  We did sit on a beach one day and open a packet of 'pukeko poo' - to those who haven't had this delight it is a jaffa kiwi style - given to us for a Christmas present.  We were amused to read that the pukeko stands on one food while eating and holds his food with the other foot.  I did challenge Harry to eating jaffas pukeko style but he didn't take up the challenge - another missed photo opportunity!!
In other ways the weekend was all about the weather.  It was sunny one day, misty another, cloudy and wet another.  All the United Kingdomites we heard or talked to said the weather had been awful, torrential rain and cold - so I guess we were lucky - we managed to get out and about without too much trouble and we did have the opportunity to practice our singing voices out in the open on a beach ...
The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain! 
The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain!
In Hartford, Hereford, and Hampshire...?
Hurricanes hardly happen.
How kind of you to let me come!
Now once again, where does it rain?
On the plain! On the plain!
And where's that blasted plain?
In Spain! In Spain!
The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain!
The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain!
The few locals and tourists who were out and about were probably grateful it stopped raining.
And so our adventures began...
First stop was Penyal d'Ilfac.  It is a huge rock a bit like a small Gibralter - sits beside the sea and rises from nowhere.  It over looks the township of Calpe and seeing it in the guide book made me think it would be fun to climb. We chose the next day to zig and zag up the hill past wild lavendar, rosemary and almond trees.  Onward and upward to the tunnel carved in the rock - I was beginning to think this was easy.  The signs did say dangerous past the tunnel, wear appropriate footwear and we saw nobody except a warden on the paths - perhaps that should have given us some sort of indication.  Lulled into a false sense of safety we stopped at the tunnel to talk to the seagulls, admire the view (the Spanish call view points Miradors which I think is quite a lovely word)  and catch our breath before clambering through the narrow tunnel.  The rocks were very shiny, small and spiky and at quite a steep gradient and if it wasn't for the huge rope attached to the wall then I probably wouldn't have made it and would have slid down on my backside back to the safer terrain.  Still, that must be the worst I thought - pirates used to hang out here and I didn't hear about any of them falling into the sea below so it should be o.k. for us.  Through the tunnel the wind picked up, the drizzle started and we realised that out sturdy walking shoes really wouldn't take us safely across the narrow slippery stones up to the 332 metre summit - there was after all a sheer cliff on one side.  We didn't want to go 'slip sliding away'!!  So the word of caution was pretty accurate: "The first section of the trail is suitable for walkers of all levels; after the tunnel, it becomes increasingly tricky. If you intend to follow the trail right to the summit, ensure that you have suitable footwear and plenty of water".  On the way down we passed a few others making the uphill climb - we categorised them by their footwear - won't make it through the tunnel, might go past it but would be a bit silly, probably stop before they get anywhere near the tunnel. The interesting thing is that in the UK and NZ there would be a 'Dangerous No Climbing or Walking' sign.

Then into the countryside. We took a little detour on the way to Guadalest to a dam. Not realising that our final destination actually overlooked it.  The dam was built around the late 1950's and supplies water to all the little towns and villages we passed on the way and to Benidorm where we were staying. The reflections were great to try and photo - but didn't come out too well mainly cos of the slight breeze. Above the dam was perched the Castle of Guadalest - our next destination.

So, onto Castell de Guadalest - it is a cute little village with only 200 inhabitants who thrive on the tourism and local agricultural industry - population must swell by a few 1000 fold during the tourist season. It has a little castle and a church all built by the Moors about 1300 years ago that now have little boutique shops that sold magnificent iron works and ceramics. Oh we could have filled a couple of suitcases if we had had the space!! It's one of those places that when you turn the corner of the road you say 'Ooh' and wonder how the architects and builders could have thought that this was a good place to build a town. There is the little white washed bell tower of Penon de la Alcala which defied our imagination at how it stays up there and this was our focus even when we wandered through the restored house once lived in by the Orduna family. On the way up we followed statues all depicting the story of Jesus up the hill. Anyway that's enough words as photos
can say it much better than I...

Another day we drove to Bocairent - and it was another one of those moments where we came across the unexpected. The village was quite a lot bigger this time but just as mysterious to explore. It was perched on a bit of steep rock but here cars can drive through the narrow streets which all look very similar. We found the information centre, more by luck than design and thankfully they had a map. On leaving the car we took photos of the street names just in case we couldn't find our way back - which is quite a good ploy when there is no map to photograph. Apparently, the place was once called Bekiren - which is Muslim for an architectural style based on beehives. Looking back I can see the similarities, one little house on top of another, climbing higher and higher until there is nothing more to support them. We visited a bull ring known for it being carved from a rock - not sure why since I find the sport so abhorrent. Went to a manmade ice cave (Cava de Sant Blai) - used in the 1700s to store the snow which turned into ice and provided some cool comfort on those hot sunny days - it was also used for therapeutic purposes as well as storing food and presumably cooling drinks. The cave was about 8 metres in diametre and 11 metres deep and there were some pretty colours around the sides and the top but we werent entirely sure if that was natural or not. Just across the way from the ice cave was the Covetes Dels Moros - when we first looked it appeared to be yet another stone cliff rising from a river but as we followed the footpath we could see the oblong windows carved out of the rock wall way back in the 10th and 11th century. There were about 50 windows - one for each room. We arrived just before siesta time and so didn't look inside as we would have had to wait more than 2 hours but from the pictures I've seen it looked a bit like large stone caves with uneven floors and it appears that each room had a function eg funeral chambers, granaries, monasteries and presumably some were living quarters. And looking over these caves was another monastery set high up on a hill with a very windy path as its only access. We were keen to climb, but sometimes mind over matter doesn't work and this was one of those times - tired legs and the desire to see as much as possible during our short trip won!!

Somewhere along the road between Bocairent and Gandia there is a lovely little gorge - with a car park at the top and a lovely path meandering along the river past waterfalls and ponds. The area has been created especially for picnickers to wile away the hours on a sunny day, swimming, eating and lazying in the sun. Locals came with supermarket bags of food and drink or more sophisticated baskets and we enjoyed the wander with our water bottle and muesli bars. Look out for it if you are ever in the area - it does have a name - we just can't remember it.

And then onto Gandia along a dual carriage way recently built to straighten the road between Concentaine and Gandia. It was nearly empty so we zoomed along surprised at how quickly we arrived at our beachside destination. Gandia is apparently known for its shopping, castle, palace and church but we found the port and long sandy beach a relaxing end to the day especially since we found a tapas restaurant beside the sea.  Somehow all the high rises didn't quite dominate the town like in Alicante and Benidorm but that is perhaps because they were set a little bit back from the beach and not quite as high.

Our last day was spent in Elche - just south of Alicante and the highlight was a trip to the Huerto del Cura. Like on most trips we had trouble finding it and ended up parking in a narrow side street not far from some palms (but a long way from the park). Not far away we found a map of the town and Harry took a photo and then magnified it on the camera screen - so every few metres we stopped to look at the image. Finally after wandering around a few streets and past more than a few palm trees (it is the largest palm grove in Europe so you can imagine the length of the walk as we wandered beside a few of the 11,000 date palms some having been growing in the Spanish town for nearly 300 years). The destination was well worth the long stroll around urban streets in Elche. The palms were originally planted in this location around 5th century BC and with a good irrigation system they have thrived and now every year dates are harvested before Christmas (you would never go hungry in this place there are oranges, lemons, manderines, grapes, dates, figs all growing in public parks). But bad news for some of these old palms - in 2005 they discovered that the red palm weevil was making its home in the trunks of these amazing trees. Presumably a bit of insecticide or organic spraying may have solved the problem. So, onto that garden we eventually found with the help of a camera and an icecream. It has a sub tropical feel about it, one where we could wander around take a few photos and sit and meditate. Thankfully, out of season and not really hot meant that we could enjoy the garden without having to see around or over lots of heads and umbrellas (our visit to Hampton Court flower show has put me off crowds and gardens for ever). There is a very special palm in the garden along with the many ducks, peacocks and hens, cacti, fruit tree, flowering shrubs. It is the 170 year old eight trunk Imperial Palm Tree. In 1900 it was still standing erect by itself but now is supported by beams and held together with metal bands - old age is creeping in.

And just before we hopped on the plane we went to Alicante - a place where tourism has taken over and the Spanish identity is there if we looked hard enough. Another city with high rises perched beside a lovely long beach, lots of traffic and fast food chains. That aside there was enough to keep us occupied for an afternoon. There is a castle on the top of the hill which we could see but had difficulty finding so eventually we parked near the beach and walked - thankfully to a lift we just happened to spy. It was fun to explore and take photos of another city from up high. It was originally built by the Moors in the 10th century and now the Santa Barbara Castle has everything you would expect to find in a castle, a few cannons, some dungeons, the ruins of a small chapel and a lookout tower. Walking down was definitely an option and we chose the old walled footpath as our route down. Silly us!! The new path isn't gated half way down like the old path. But during the climb back up we warned an Irish couple that the path didn't go anywhere and so chatted to them all the way back up and down and along the little cobbled streets with white washed houses, geraniums and ivys in the windows and doorways and scooters outside. We took the long way back to the car passing the Town Hall and the Basilica on the way. Then it was time to wing our way back to Bristol to a very cold late evening - it was 2.00 am before our heads hit the pillow - tired little kiwis once more.