Goodbye England - Hola Spain!

We spent a week adjusting after our travels around Asia, strange not going back to the pub though. My first priority was getting the car fixed; a flat tyre and it being a non-starter fully concentrated the mind. I called out the AA, they got it going allowing me to drive the car to the garage and get it prepared for the long journey to Spain.

Everything taken but the kitchen sink

Packing the car with our remaining possessions it was evident it would be overloaded. A trip to Halfords did the trick - I bought a roof top box; sadly that would cost me a little bit more later in the journey. Using the time wisely I got our financial arrangements all in order and sent out change of address details to various companies - ready for the off!

On Saturday 21st May we said goodbye to my Auntie Pam who'd looked after us on our return and departed to Warminster to say "tarra" to Lynn's dad. Our ferry was booked for the Sunday and was a two night crossing from Portsmouth, a chance to test out the new sat-nav. I managed to catch up with an old army pal in Warminster on the Saturday night after I'd watched Man Utd winning the FA Cup final and Louis Van Gaal losing his job.

Last pint in Blighty with
Dave (Pies) Taylor

All the goodbyes completed, we set off for Portsmouth and the UK base of Brittany Ferries. They weren't too benevolent towards us though; the robbing so and so's charged me another £40 for the top box - I'd booked the ticket in February, didn't think they'd be that tight. As it was, we drove onto the car deck of Cap Finnistere and parked in an area you could have got two double-decker busses in; on top of each other. Why the hell we got charged for an extra foot of height is beyond me.

We found our cabin, I hadn't splashed the cash on this, it was bunk beds for us and I was on the top. Luckily there was just enough headroom for me to get up after negotiating the ladders. I'd not had this much fun since I was in the army!

A bleak looking Pompey

The crossing was uneventful - thankfully, I'm not a good sailor at the best of times. We survived on the self-service food and drink, we weren't on holiday, this was serious, we'd need the spare cash in Spain. After two nights (including a stop off in Roscoff to change crew) we landed at breakfast time in Bilbao - Hola y buenos dias!

Just our luck we were picked out for full passport check but it wasn't long before we were following the directions on the sat-nav and tearing round the high-rise of this Basque Region city. Climbing into the high lands it took on a look of  Scotland or maybe even Switzerland. It was cool too at this level, the temperature struggling to reach 15 degrees Celsius.

The Basque Region gave way to Rioja, the vines spread out for miles along the side of the highway and on any exposed slope. Signs for ski resorts were also popping up on the exit roads - snow evident on the higher sierras; certainly not the Spain we were used to. We seemed to be climbing higher as we crossed the Zarragoza Plain, skirting the city of the same name, it was getting warmer now.

After six hours driving and two pit stops we descended from the high ground toward Valencia, the temperature now touching 25 degrees - Palm trees - we were on the last leg of the journey.

We've been visiting Spain for the last eight years, always landing at Alicante and approaching our final destination from the other direction. Fortunately last November we'd been across to celebrate our daughter's birthday and had visited Valencia. Having negotiated the ring road and in familiar territory the last 45 minutes was a breeze, hardly any other cars on the road (at 4pm), we were here - our new home. Now the hard work begins!