Putting the R0X(1) in Torrox

My regular reader will remember that I met a fellow female lone motorhomer on the ferry from Newhaven in October and that we nattered away for the whole of the crossing to Dieppe. Jo kindly invited me to pop in and see her at her Spanish adobe in Torrox if I was passing; I was, so I did. It seems that we still had loads to talk about; so we did … until 2 a.m. the first night. Last night I decided that as I had a long drive today I’d better get to bed a tad earlier; so I did … but not until after we’d decided that Jo will come and meet up with me for a few days in her Moho sometime early next year. So apart from nattering for Britain we walked, we talked, we ate, we talked, and we sat in the sun, talking. We had a great time.

Torrox is a lovely place, chocka with Brits … Brits abroad are just so much friendlier than Brits at home. In Torrox they all seem to know one another which necessitates stopping frequently to chat. P’raps all us Brits need is warmth and sunshine and you can throw the stereotypes away, or maybe we just mellow after retirement.

Torrox, where these …


develop into …


this pretty (weird) flower.

I’ve had a major falling out with Garmina today, p’raps she’s got the hump as I use her a lot less these days and frequently mute her nagging. She took me off the motorway one exit earlier than I expected but as I’ve never been to this site before, I obeyed. She then proceeded to overshoot the destination in a westerly direction before dropping me south and then back east. At least a 70 kilometre detour – and in the rain. I’m going to change her voice to a male one and call her Gary. At least then I can blame it all on a man!

Well, I have prepared the way for the Bezzies and am now at the Christmas destination waiting for them to arrive. (I’d hazard at least 80% Brit occupancy on this site.) The tree is decorated and Santa is sitting on the dashboard. Let the Season begin!

Ho, ho, ho!

🙂 🙂 🙂

Four lunches and a hospital

I’m now ensconced in Granada just a 6km bus ride from the Alhambra; to visit which I have a ticket for tomorrow.


My second week with Rosemary and John was a continuation of gastronomic delights but there were some challenging moments. We ate “out” and we ate “in”.

Out last Sunday was at a hotel and restaurant that R&J wanted to try out. We ordered starters and a main course each. Our large size starters arrived one at a time so we shared as you do, all were gorgeous. The only trouble was by the time our main courses arrived we had all eaten so much already none of us could take much more than a token taste. This was the too much lunch.

Tuesday was out to lunch at the house of some friends of R&J’s. We drew up at the front door to be met by a plaintive cry for help from our host. Our hostess had got up to greet us and tripped over; I took one look at the angle of her foot and shouted for the men to leave her on the floor. My diagnosis proved correct unfortunately, when after a two and a half hour wait for an ambulance to take her to the hospital, the X-ray showed she had a fractured neck of femur. Poor lady, she was incredibly brave, she was in great pain but me sitting beside her, holding her hand and encouraging deep breathing whilst we waited seemed to help a little. This was the no lunch, lunch.

Thursday was “out” to an Indian restaurant. It was absolutely excellent, almost up to the Hawelli, Twyford’s annual award winning standards! This was the just right lunch.

It was the paella party “in” on Friday that took the “lunch of the week prize”.


Paella for eight at R&J’s – cooked by R&J – brilliant.

My third patient of the year now has a new hip, is beginning to mobilise and should be home in a couple more days. Have a speedy recovery Bet!

🙂 🙂 🙂


Cracking up …

I left Bolnuevo a week ago and motored the short drive to Lorca for a stay with my friends. Not only did my patient survive my nursing she has recovered incredibly well, yesterday we were crossing the road together and she almost ran across – it was raining, and we’d just come out of the hairdresser’s – fastest she’s moved since the accident she informed me!

Having a cracking time here, we’ve been out and about quite a bit, meal with some of R&J’s friends, local market, food shop and other jaunts. Last night we went to  the cinema to see Murder on the Orient Express (cracking film) and LWD had the devil in her and refused to come inside the house before we left. She wasn’t terribly impressed with being left outside in the dark and cold for two and a half hours; we thoroughly enjoyed the film tho’ . More trips out planned for this coming week and then I’m off to Granada to see the sights.

Just before I left the UK my windscreen collided with a stone. I was in Halfords for something else and asked if they knew where Autoglass was, cashier told me that Halfords now repair windscreen chips. To save time I had it repaired there and was assured the repair was solid as a rock. And so it was – for seven weeks. The morning I was off to Lorca I drew back the windscreen curtains to see a curly crack descending from the “repair”. Insurance company put my call straight through to Autoglass who faxed the details through to their Spanish colleagues and within the hour I had a date for the replacement windscreen. Unfortunately that appointment had to be postponed because of a weather forecast of heavy rain for the appointed day.


Cracking windscreen

Today, however, was sunny (but cold) and R0X1 is now resplendent with shiny new windscreen.

🙂 🙂 🙂

Watery subjects

Yesterday was housework day and cupboards including the garage got blitzed. Anything not used in the past 24 months got thrown. Anything not thrown got tidied and cleaned – well, most things got cleaned – well, some made do with a lick and a promise. I have never laid claim to being a great cleaner; better things to do with my time. Late afternoon whilst it was still warm LWD had a forced march along the prom until we came to a nice watering hole … much better use of my time.


The Prom – about 1 ½km long

So there I was at the far end of the bay, sitting watching the sun starting to descend behind the mountains, sipping a tiny glass of vino blanco when I spotted my pitch neighbour Richard advancing very rapidly and purposefully towards me. He looked concerned – I became concerned. “Give me your van keys quick” he puffed “ you must’ve left a tap on and there’s water pouring out under the hab door!” I handed over the keys and he was off like a shot. I finished my wine … then followed.

When I got back to site, bless them, he and Sharon had emptied out the shower, from whence came the leak, and mopped up a bit. Rugs and mats had been hung up to dry and the laundry bag was outside draining on the step stool. “Don’t understand it” said my out-of-breath hero “ Taps were all off, no idea where the water came from. Unfortunately plug was in the shower. The pump was running so I’ve turned off all the electrics. Now we need to investigate.”

Richard is an engineer and obviously thrives on this sort of knotty problem. It turned out that the push switch to flush the loo had short circuited and the pump came on. Ergo, the loo was constantly flushing and of course the cassette was closed (nasty niffs otherwise) but at least it was nice clean water that cascaded out of the bowl and through my abode. What it also meant was that much sand and mud having been traipsed through on the wet floor, I had to set to and clean floors etc. again today. Luckily everything dried quickly and nothing was ruined, well except for the circuit board and a new one of those is already on order. Lucky too that Richard noticed what was happening and managed to get the pump disabled before it burnt out when the water tank emptied.

And it wasn’t my fault …

Whilst on watery subjects, the Spanish Navy were playing games in the bay today. They involved the larger ship repeatedly circling the smaller one and a couple of ribs charging around kicking up a lot of spray between – boys and their toys …

I watched from the beach bar, with a tiny glass of vino blanco in my hand …

🙂 🙂 🙂

The fish slapping fiesta

When I arrived here on Monday I very soon learned that it was fiesta time and that the climax would be this weekend. Fantastic …

Then I was told that it was the sardine fiesta and I’ve spent the whole week giggling to myself because the images that immediately came to mind, and will not budge, are of Cleese, Palin, Teddington lock and the fish slapping dance.

It is of course a religious festival. According to legend pirates came to the town to pillage, rape and kill; they got to the church to grab the goodies there but the statue of the Virgin Mary started to weep, so they took fright and ran away leaving the town and its inhabitants pretty much unscathed and I believe that the fishermen then donated sardines as a token of thanks. Tomorrow the final parade of the Virgin’s statue for this year’s festival is due to be held.

This morning this hibernating little town woke up, rolled out the sidewalks and started partying. There’s a fair on the beach, the promenade is lined with food and toy stalls and the bars and restaurants are doing a roaring trade. Commercialism rules so I offer no apologies for my Pythonesque humour.

The fair on the beach

Excuse me I must try to hunt down Cleese and Palin, word has spread that they’re here to slap a couple of sardines around …

🙂 🙂 🙂