To Plymouth and across the sea……
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“A journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step….” So said Laozi in 6th century BC China. Well, this journey, from Rutland to Ulgueira, near Colares, in Portugal, is almost exactly 1000 miles, excluding the 478 nautical miles from Plymouth to Santander. And my single step took me down the M5 for a relaxing evening with my friends Richard and Helen, en route to Plymouth. Not only a delicious dinner and a good night’s sleep, but the topping up of kit I’d forgotten – poo bags and toothpaste. Has to be something.
The boat had been my big anxiety. Finding the port first of all – super easy in the end, as so well signposted to the International ferry port. Through the checks OK, including the earlier-mentioned 20-page animal health certificate. Then directed to another high-viz-jacketed man – “What happens next?” I asked him. He smiled and patted my hand – “Ah, the Mysteries of Life!” Great answer.
I’d arrived so early that went for a coffee – and made a new friend. Hello Joanne! Another woman driving on her own across Spain, with her dog for company. We decided we had a lot in common and should do a Thelma and Louise trip somewhere – with dogs of course. Travelling on your own has one great advantage – you meet people. A long wait in a queue and then we were boarding - which I negotiated, with a bit of help getting dog with bed and food, and all my kit for the night, to dog deck and cabin. I’d dosed Toby with his doggy diazepam early this morning, and had to wait for 12 hours before could dose him again. But he amazingly didn’t complain too much about going into the kennel, the thing that had most worried me. Maybe helped by the sweater my friend Helen had lent me, which I had to wear in the unseasonal boiling heat all the way to Plymouth, in order to get my own smell onto it. Lots of visits and strolls on the tiny doggy deck during the evening before I went to bed – and he was actually lying down when I went to get him. Thank you doggy diazepam and Helen’s sweater!
A more or less uneventful trip of about 24 hours, with no more than a gentle rolling across the Bay of Biscay – and in no time the announcement went out for dog owners to collect their dogs and take them to their vehicles. A moment’s panic when I realised I hadn’t concentrated when I left the van to take in its exact position, or even which of two decks it was on; but somehow my instinct got me there. And we’re off and heading into Santander, hoping to find my way out of it! Again the satnav was brilliant, and in no time we were on an wide highway heading west towards my first campsite.
On the map it looked super easy, a good highway running along the north coast, instead of the little wiggly road it runs beside. With more time I might have taken the little wiggly coastal road; but meanwhile this Cantabrian Highway was doing the job more practically and still through beautiful scenery. Soon we were passing through the high, green, forested hills of Asturias, with cattle grazing on the hill-side pastures and the red rooves of small houses dotted around. In the distance, the dramatic peaks of the Picos de Europa rose up, and on the right, beyond the green hills and valleys, the blue Cantabrian Sea sparkled in the sunshine. Seeing the turn-off towards the Picos reminded me of the last time I was there, some three decades ago, on a camping and hiking holiday with three small children. I have photos of a diminutive daughter determined to carry her own backpack. Sign of things to come?
The Cantabrian Highway took us nearly all the way. But just as I turned off the highway, the VW satnav went blank! Disaster. I disconnected it from my phone, but my phone was just showing text, no map. So in no time at all, I had no idea where I was. Remember the paper bag comment? (those who’ve studied my previous blog posts!) Straight off the highway I had to negotiate a roundabout. Third exit? Somehow I got it wrong. Not just once but twice: once completely the wrong road, with google maps trying to take me down a tiny lane, so back to the roundabout – where I took the right road in the wrong direction. Finally I managed to get a bit of a map on my phone, with a blue dot showing where I was and what direction I was going in – so third time lucky. “You have to turn off Bluetooth,” my son told me later. So now I know, when VW Satnav lets me down again.
The campsite, when I found it, was just what I needed. A large site, closing down for the winter so no hoped-for café or shop; but hot showers and a large space to park, surrounded by hedges for privacy. You could hear the hum of traffic from the highway (very close, if you take the right exit from the roundabout); but closer and much more soothing was the gentle jangle of cowbells, on the cows enjoying their green Asturian pasture nearby.
They sent me to sleep.