Day 38. Tuesday 15 April.

15 April…a BIG DAY for someone very special. A day just like any other: great to be alive.

There was lots of passing traffic in the early morning: T commented, ‘there must be something on’ (probably a Semanta Santa gathering). The summer light here is interesting: still quite dark at 0800. Tea made and pack-up started…today is the trip to Portugal.

A quick phone call with Joan back home who is about to board a big flight…T is very impressed with how Whatsapp delivers!

We headed out from Ronda, delighted with how good the visit had been. Our destination was about 20 minutes outside the seaside town of Tavira, a journey of a bit over 300 kms. There was a certain amount of trepidation, as the manager had arranged to rv at Cafe Constantina, as it was difficult to find the place using Google or Apple Maps because there is no signal. And it should be noted that neither can locate that cafe!

The Easter road out of Ronda toward Sevilla was super busy…maybe Easter traffic? We came down from the mountains behind Malaga and then felt we were in OZ with rolling wheat lands and eucalypts. Near Sevilla, the scene became standard ‘western suburbs industrial’ and finding a cute coffee spot was not going to happen. We called in for a coffee in an industrial area on the outskirts of Sevilla. We found one establishment in a mall but nothing else was open. Coffee over, on we went. 

Rain clouds and wind swept in & there were no obvious pull-over rest stops for lunch, presumably because distances travelled are quite short and drivers are fast!!! Around lunch time, looked for a layby or picnic spot – no such thing, so we ended up having a snack in a parking lot of a servo near Clartaya, just past Huelva – bread, oil & jamon from the ‘cold bag’. The aroma of last night’s chorizo, pervading the car reminded T of why she doesn’t like cold chorizo.

We were pulled up by a very officious official (wearing the mandatory reflective yellow vest) just short of the toll booth and directed to answer some questions from a woman carrying a clipboard (remember them?): where are you from, is this vehicle owned or rented (that caused some confusion when we said it was neither: it was leased), where did you arrive from (we said Australia, and that we’d flown not driven), …..We were then told to just go though the toll booths as they weren’t operating. Not true: we stopped at the booth, unsure of what to do next as the traffic banked up behind us. Eventually we spoke to the machine who told us to contact Portugal tolls to pay: and do it today! Welcome to Portugal.

Followed Doris’ instructions to more or less our new home location, did some driving around in circles as usual, then asked a local (bon jour he said, noting the licence plate: g’day said D) where this cafe was. We had passed it but not noticed. Sat waiting and just as Guida the guide arrived a massive rainstorm hit. Of course. Anyway we followed her down ever- narrowing roads and tracks, from bitumen to dirt, with D wondering at one stage whether we were being kidnapped. But we arrived at a delightful, remote, beautifully set up cottage. T is in heaven.

Restocked at Lidl in Tavira, back home for a late afternoon sip, a lovely dinner, and early to bed: it has been a long day.

Dinner. Salmon baked in foil with tomatoes, leeks and herbs, and baked potato and steamed carrots and the big flat beans that are everywhere (just cook like normal beans, said Google and if you want to be fancy, add garlic & lemon).