In search of A Good Walk - we set off to Mojacar

After a ridiculously early start - by our current standards, probably

Fun tepee tiles on El Quinto shower block 

luxuriously tardy to anyone else - at quarter past nine yesterday morning, we arrived 135ish miles away at Camping El Quinto, just outside Mojacar in plenty of time for lunch. The reason for our hasty departure from Camping Florantilles was not skipping the bill - everyone has to pay up front there (!) - but that we needed to arrive at El Quinto before Recepcion closed for siesta at 1pm. They don't reopen again until after 5pm and we didn't fancy waiting around outside for hours unable to get in and set up. Dave had emailed ahead and Marina had said we would be welcome to pull in but please not to select a pitch without assistance. It turned out that, due to our wanting to stay here at least three weeks, there were only three available pitches from which we could choose. The campsite is less than half full right now but I guess it is going to get a lot busier come the beginning of January.

We chose to return to Mojacar again so soon because we know there is lots of good walking here. We keep talking about having been here 'last year' overlooking that our previous stay at nearby Sopalmo was only in February so still 'this year' at the moment! El Quinto was recommended to Dave by someone he got chatting to at the washing up sinks at Florantilles. It's amazing how much one can learn about other campers and their travels over a bowl of washing up! It is situated on the 'other side' of Mojacar from Sopalmo and we are now within 15 minutes walk of the town on the hillside. The difference of only 5 or 6 miles has opened up a whole new vista of walks right from our doorstep. Dave was told how pretty El Quinto is and the information was right. The large pitches are delineated by shrubs and small trees, all of which are green and leafy not overpruned skeletons. There are cute little garden areas for sitting and relaxing and everywhere is neat and clean. There's only one small sanitary block so it might be a case of picking our shower times when the site gets busy. However it has everything we need and lots of good pressure hot water at the turn of a tap - bliss! I think we're going to like it here.

We have had a couple of problems with Bailey recently and are wondering if bits are starting to wear out already. Both are water related - the Truma water heater and water pump. The water heater appeared to blow when we arrived at Florantilles. We switched it on and all the electrics promptly went off. Dave untripped us at the external electric box. Switching the water heater on again now just tripped its own circuit in the caravan. We've checked the fuses but can't see into them! We've stopped trying the water heater on the electric, but Dave's considering trying it on the gas here. Forums suggest a variety of potential problems including the demise of the element. Hopefully it will be something as 'simple' to fix as this because, although we don't use it that often, instant hot water in Bailey is very useful at times.

The Truma water pump was very loud when we first bought Bailey, to the extent that people on neighbouring pitches sometimes commented! Not having had one before, we didn't know what they were supposed to sound like, but realised they probably weren't intended to be heard three pitches away. Over the months of last winter's travels the pump quietened down and we hardly noticed it. Now, however, it has started whining on for ages after we turn a tap off. I think the pump itself is wearing out. It's fine when then Aqua Roll is full, but once it gets below about a third remaining, the water pressure falls significantly which I guess is why the pump keeps whining - it's taking so much longer to refill the pipes. Fortunately a spare water pump was one of the precautionary purchases we made at John's Cross before we set out again this year. At the price, I think the current one should last longer so we're going to hang on with it as long as we can bear the noise - or as long as it keeps going anyway!

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Walking around Torrevieja and along the Salt Lake

I already bemoaned the lack of walking opportunities directly from

Giant shoe sculpture in Torrevieja 

Camping Florentilles, but that doesn't mean that we have been completely idle for a week. Almost, but not quite!

We spent one morning wandering Torrevieja town centre and seafront promenade where we saw a couple of interesting sculptures: the woman wsiting on the beach as pictured below and also a series of half a dozen giant shoes, all decorated in different styles. My favourite of them all was the yellow design pictured above. Otherwise we weren't too impressed with the town. Admittedly, we didn't get as far as visiting the salt museum - must remember Spanish museums shut on Mondays - and we had already seen the nativity model in the Plaza de la Constitucion. There didn't seem to be any small arty independent shops, more of the Chinese bazaar type and an overwhelming number of bars and eateries. I did enjoy a rich hot chocolate and churros in the Valor Chocolateria - just like we had in Barcelona all those years ago - otherwise all a bit meh!

Wistfully gazing out to sea
Sculpture on Torrevieja seafront 

In contrast, we had low hopes for our walk along one of the salt lakes and it turned out surprisingly well. Isn't that always the way? Although there are two huge salt lakes (Las Salinas) here, it turns out that walling is only possible along one side of one lake. On the campsite side of our nearest lake, all access has to go though orange plantations and their gates are generally securely locked against optimistic hikers. We were unable to park at the end of the lake as we had hoped because the road was closed to cars, but another road that completely encircles an neighbouring urbanizacion has access so we parked up there. Ten to fifteen minutes walking through abandoned terraced agricultural land got us to the edge of the lake. We saw the huge cactus plant below which looked dead from a distance, but was still eagerly sending forth new leaves.

Cactus by Torrevieja salt lake 

The lake shore is mostly scrubby sand with small rocks. There is a proper cycling/running/walking trail all the way along but we walked along the water's edge until it became too full of prickly heather plants. We saw two flicks of birds out on the lake. One looked like gulls and we hoped the other might be flamingos but it wasn't. Probably the wrong time of year! And probably the same wrong time for hoopoes too. At the sea end of the lake, a short stroll through a residential area took us to the Queen Mississippi restaurant where, from below it, a terraced stream led us out into a huge park and on to the sandy seashore. The park was crisscrossed with lots of brick paved paths and all looked quite new. It hadn't yet started disintegrating! We allowed ourselves to be distracted by a squirrel eating a nut. I wanted a photo but it got coy when I reached for my phone! The whole walk was a pleasant more-than-three hours and we were amazed by how quiet the whole area was. An extended family were enjoying a meal together in a dedicated picnic area and there were a few other people on the seashore and in the park, otherwise we pretty much had the lakeside to ourselves. Perfect!

¡Feliz Navidad!

There's no walking from Camping Florantilles

which came as a surprise to me as its website proudly describes the site

Scene from the Torrevieja nativity model 

as a suitable base location for the annual February walking festival. Apparently alternatives to foot transport would be needed to reach any start points! Camping Florantilles is sandwiched by fairly busy roads and, other than a small scrubby area a few minutes away, the only option for walkers seems to be marching alongside the roads - not exactly salubrious. A couple of hookers spend their days patiently sat on plastic chairs in lay-bys a few hundred metres away from the campsite entrance. Marta had already spotted one near Deveses, but these are the first we've noticed. Getting back to the transport issue, we realised today that there are practically no bicycles propped on the pitches here which is unusual. We now know that is an important clue for us when visiting future campsites. Keen local cyclists zip along the roads in their lycra bodysuits, but it seems el coche (the car) is essential for happy campers. There's even one person who likes roaring around on his quad bike!

The campsite itself is pleasant and very English in both its layout and the majority of its clientele. All pitches are hardstanding, gravelled and level, with their own electric, water and waste water/chemical toilet disposal point. However most of these disposal points are about a foot off the ground which could be a struggle to use with a full waste master. Purely by chance our pitch, B25, has one high and another at ground level which is easy to use. The pitch is generously sized and nearly has a view over the salt lake to Torrevieja. Where there is hot water in the sanitary blocks it is incredibly hot and the indoor showers are spacious. Not great water pressure, but no time limits plus closed doors and heaters mean the room isn't draughty or icy when towelling down! The site is pretty busy but remarkably yappy-dog free and actually eerily silent after dark. Promenading after dinner on our arrival evening, we didn't see or hear anyone else, just spotted several outfits decorated with flashing Christmas lights and gazed up into bright clear stars. We're planning to stay until next weekend so I'll have plenty of chances to raid the extensive library in reception. It's mostly chick lit and thrillers, but I have already found a nearly-new A Prayer For Owen Meany.

We drove into Torrevieja yesterday evening to see their nativity model. It was similar to the one in Xabia, but outdoors in the Plaza de la Constitucion and at least double the size and scale. It didn't have the humour of Xabia's though. A marching band went by while we were there - all dressed in Santa outfits! We parked by a funfair near the marina and wandered through the Hippy Market, but this turned out to be a victim of over-enthusiastic advertising too. Only half a dozen of the promised 100 stalls were open and not a one of them had tie-dye clothes or stank of patchouli oil.

On another note, I saw a very desirable caravan conversion on the Caravanity blog this morning. It's been turned from a really dismal dark van into a bright desert-themed space and looks fab. It's even got parquet flooring and I love the cacti pots over the window. Ideas for the future maybe?

Christmas is coming to Xabia

Xabia is being adorned with its Christmas decorations now. There isn't

Nativity model in Xabia market 

really any sense of the heavy commercial drive that we're used to in the UK so the whole feel is much more relaxed. The old town streets have municipal lights strung over them and are lined with rows of small trees in pots decorated with burlap sacks tied with red chiffon ribbons. Most shops have quite elegant additions to their window displays. Dave noticed an article about the opening of the nativity model in the indoor market so we went along to have a look. It is fantastic! The detail is incredible and includes the market stalls and sellers pictured in the photo above, people baking bread and cakes in a glowing oven, a moving woman figurine embroidering a cloth, and another woman washing her hair. The traditional nativity scene takes place in an inn, as expected, however another inn has a drunken customer falling down its steps! The wise men ride camels past the pyramids in the centre. We were amazed by the ingenuity of the work and its scale - the table top is easily as long as our caravan and probably nearly the same distance across too.

In other festive news, Lidl have completely sold out of chocolate covered marzipan bars. Dave went there a couple of weeks ago and couldn't find any so we were hoping more might arrive. They haven't so we're resorting to Lidl's rather delicious German gingerbreads and lebkuchen instead. Having previously bemoaned the shop, the Lidl gingerbreads Chris and Marta brought when they visited on Saturday changed our minds! We also served and ate our (hopefully) first mince pies. Two varieties were on sale in the friendly Spanish-run Costa Blanca supermarket near the campsite. Coincidentally, the same varieties were also in the British-run Quick Save supermarket opposite it, so I guess they are from the same wholesaler, but interestingly the price was considerably higher in the Quick Save!

I'll finish up with a YouTube of the song that seems to always be playing in Mercadona at the moment - from 1970, it's Jose Feliciano and Feliz Navidad!

A pair of picnic walks from Xabia

We've finally dusted off the pink stripy picnic rucksack

We got to the base of the Montgo and might climb it
next time out! 

- so called because it has a good sized cool bag compartment - here in Xabia and have undertaken two lengthy walks with lunch stops during the past couple of weeks. It is lovely to be somewhere which has great walking routes which are challenging enough for us to get a sense of having pushed ourselves, but not so difficult that we get overwhelmed. I am a lot more confident about scrambling and climbing now, especially due to my trusty boots and walking poles. It still takes me considerably longer to go downhill on rough scree tracks than uphill, but this is the next skill for me to work on! We try to stop for our typical lunch of fresh bread, cheese, apple and jam after 2-3 hours which is generally a little over half way. Our favourite Spanish sheep cheeses are perfect and we enjoy the extra challenge of trying to find the most pleasant place to pause a while.

First off we did a 10k (ish) wander which took us along the base of the nearby Montgo mountain which towers over Xabia and can be seen for miles. It got it's name, meaning elephant, because from a certain direction the mountain's outline and the positioning of a small cave resemble an elephant's head. We found this La Plana Circuit walk on the Javeamigos website which has a good selection of suggested walks from which we could choose. Described as 'energetic', it is mostly paths and tracks but includes one fun section where the 'path' is more of a suggested scramble up a rocky hillside. A route up is marked with paint and muddy footprints, but I couldn't always see that its footholds were any more practical than anywhere else! It reminded me of a dry version of El Torcal, but much shorter.

Our second walk was longer at about 15k and took us just over five hours of actual walking and scrambling so we are proud of ourselves for achieving this. We followed an official route around the Granandella natural park and also found it thanks to the Javeamigos website. The route is frequently and clearly marked with yellow and white painted stripes on trees, rocks and posts. There was an amazing range of surface types within the park so we were strolling along wide concrete tracks one minute, or pine scented rough woodland tracks the next. We saw scrubby areas where wild rosemary, lavender and heathers were profusely growing and flowering. We've bought several jars or local Benitatxell honey and could easily see where its delicious flavour comes from. One part of the route took us scrambling along high rock ledges and we sat in the sunshine overlooking the sparkling sea and a small ruined Castell for our lunch break. A gleeful Dutchman warned us that our post-lunch climb would involve having to pull ourselves up by chains hammered to the rocks. We were a little concerned by this, but soon discovered that this section was no more difficult than we had already climbed to get there. It would have been awful to have been forced to retrace our steps as we were already over half way! The last part of our walk was the reverse of a shorter route we had already done.

We were also invited to join Chris and Marta on a challenging excursion to the Moorish steps which we disappointedly declined as Dave did a fantastic 2 1/2 hour bike ride the day before - and temporarily knackered his knees. Our friends set out anyway and we since learned that the route was a six hour spectacular consisting entirely of ups and downs - no flat bits for respite. Congrats to Chris & Marta for completing the walk as I think it would have taken both Dave and I well past our enjoyment thresholds!

OMG, we went to Benidorm!

It feels like ages since I wrote a travelling blog post and checking the

Incredible carousel at Denia medieval market 

publish dates reveals that the last was almost a week ago. We had two fab days out over the weekend and I've not shared them yet!

Before we get to the headline feature, I must write about the wonderful medieval market that took place in nearby Denia over the past national holiday weekend. We drove in on the Saturday and met up there with Chris and Marta who had cycled from their campsite. Their route is flat but it's still a good 7-8 miles each way. The market took over pretty much all of the old town and consisted of dozens of stalls, decorated in a medieval style, together with dressed-up stallholders, and suitable fabric bunting strung across the narrow streets overhead. Many of the stalls were selling jewellery but there were also several with huge bowls of various dried fruits, one deliciously scented one with loose teas, some working craftspeople - a stone mason and a wood sculptor - and a blacksmith whose presentation included a metal dragon that would 'breathe' a gas jet of flame on demand. There was a quartet of wandering minstrels playing instruments including reeded recorder type things that we thought were crumhorns but later googling changed our minds to the possibility that they were Spanish hanchet shawms. The Early Music Shop website has an audio file of one - it's quite a distinctive sound! In the centre square children could get pony rides or take a turn on the incredible hand-cranked carousel pictured above. Click in to get a larger view and see all the detail. The boards around it are printed with words about or by Da Vinci and each of the seats was based on one of his inventions! The operator was able to propel the whole carousel, loaded with children, simply by pushing at one of the contraptions or by cranking a handle on the central stand. The only electrical connection was for halogen bulb lanterns which would be lit after dark so I guess, other than those lanterns, the technology could have been medieval. We saw another smaller carousel later on which had only four hanging seats and was powered by a wheel-less bicycle. I thoroughly enjoyed wandering around although it did get chilly in the shaded streets. We were there until mid-afternoon by which time the more unfortunate stallholders were already looking very cold and the market wasn't due to close until half past eleven each night!

In total contrast, our Sunday excursion to Benidorm came about simply because I have never been and wanted to see if it really is as awful as the tv programme would have me believe. I forgot to check which hotel was used for filming so don't know if we actually passed it. The promenade along the beach is lovely and was packed with Spanish couples and families taking a pre-lunch stroll. The bay and built-up-ness create a great wind-free sun trap so it was several degrees warmer there than here. Some people were sunbathing while others held open-air religious services. One woman was being acosted by dozens of white pigeons but she had purchased bird seed from a nearby stall for the purpose and her son thought it very funny. We walked nearly an hour from a little marina to the end of the prom passing both the insane new Intempo building pictured below - my fear of heights would go into overdrive if we stayed in the cone - and the beautifully sparkly red trike. Dave used to have a guitar that colour. I liked the walk and we stopped for lunch in a nice bar/cafe, Taperia Botafumeiro, where Dave got adventurous and ordered cuttlefish and I had a Galician empanada. Then we continued our wander into the narrow streets of the older part of town and the atmosphere changed considerably. We had found the Brits! Most of the bars at this end of the beach were resolutely English, both in clientele and in food and drink offered, and they were packed out. It felt quite strange to suddenly be effectively in a different country when the original Spanish lifestyle continued just metres away. Bizarre place!

The maddest building
in Benidorm? 

Pretty red tricycle in Benidorm 

The rain clears and we go to Denia

I nearly had good reason to be glad I'd recently listened to The Ark Before

Dave plays chicken with the sea at Xabia 

Noah as we had a couple of days of such heavy rain here over the weekend that I was becoming a bit concerned about potential flooding. It started with a couple of minutes of gentle patters on the caravan roof, almost like the sparrows jumping about. Then within a few more minutes, the sound resembled ostriches! After the previous strong winds, we lost another night's sleep to thundering rain. It's amazing how much louder sounds are when heard from within a caravan or motorhome compared to from within a house. Bailey has double glazed windows and all the modern insulation, but we are still effectively in an aluminium can! You wouldn't know about the rain from the look of the Rio Gorgos which is still resolutely dry, but it was unusual enough to be chatted about in the local supermercado. We took a wander down to Arenal seafront on Monday and the sea looks very different to before the weekend. It is now an ominous dark green in colour with galloping white horses on the crests of all the waves. There is also lots of standing water on the beach and a coating of a white foamy looking substance. We weren't sure if this was drying salt or pollution. I've put some photos up on Facebook.

Tuesday saw us taking a trip out to Denia for the day, partly to discover the town and partly because our Devonian friends, Chris and Marta, are currently staying at the Los Llanos campsite about 12k outside Denia. We saw half a dozen fabulous yachts moored up in Denia marina. Most were flying Caribbean flags and looked dead posh!! The town itself is very Spanish and doesn't have the Anglification of Xabia although there is a hint of a Germanic influence. One thing we are learning on our travels is to make sure that the Austrians have got there first as they open up wonderful cafes with good cakes. We stopped for a coffee and spot of people watching outside a nice cafe called Denou which is on a pretty square not far from the municipal market. This market is a bigger affair than Xabia and there were easily a dozen butcher stalls from which we failed to choose our barbecue offerings that afternoon. There is some kind of Medieval Fair in Denia this weekend coming. It will coincide with two national festival days on Saturday and Monday and is an annual affair so we are planning to return to see what all that is about and to spend more time exploring.

We got lightly lost when trying to find Los Llanos and I was glad we didn't have Bailey on the back when u-turning as the road ended. The campsite is down a roughish track and does look run-down from the approach. However, it has good sized pitches with a more rural feel than the car parky set up here at El Naranjal. The shower block is decorated with fun green and white harlequin tiles and does have toilet paper which we don't. We have doors that close snugly against draughts though and they don't! The site seemed to have fewer people in residence although there are several currently uninhabited permanent pitches, as there are here too, so was quieter in that respect - until our wine got flowing anyway! - but there is constant distant traffic noise from the N332. We thought it was mostly swings and roundabouts as to which campsite is 'better' and the only real downside to Los Llanos is its physical distance from Denia. There's no casually strolling into town as we can do here.

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn / May We Be Forgiven by A M Homes / He Kills Coppers by Jake Arnott

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Recently going to see Gone Girl at the cinema reminded me that I still had Sharp Objects languishing unread on our Kindle. It's the third Gillian Flynn novel I have read but apparently the first she wrote.
The storyline here is definitely not for the fainthearted and at points I felt quite queasy reading it. The central theme of two girls in a small town in Missouri being murdered is obviously horrific, but having read several crime thrillers over the years, I have pretty much become immune to the emotional pull of murdered young fictional women and girls. It feels bizarre writing that but so many novels start with such a death that it is almost a prerequisite. Where Sharp Objects differs is that our viewpoint into the story comes via Camille, a journalist sent back to cover the story unfolding in her hometown. Camille not only has self harmed and in plenty of detail, but leads us into the bosom of her cold, dysfunctional family as she tries to come to terms with her personal past and the death of her younger sister. The relationships within her home and trailing out across the town are cleverly included in the story, explaining why she is as she is.
I don't think Sharp Objects is as good a story as Gone Girl and it doesn't have the former's intensity, but I appreciate that they both have unusual central female characters who are damaged and bizarre, yet memorable and definitely never stereotypical.



May We Be Forgiven by A.M. Homes
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I have awarded May We Be Forgiven three stars overall, but I would actually like to give the first half four stars and the second half just two. Initially the novel is a pretty fast paced descent into horror as our narrator, Harold Silver, finds himself in a family maelstrom caused by his own adultery with his brother's wife and the extreme violence that this unleashes. I enjoyed the drama and pace of these first 250 or so pages. There are darkly humorous passages and the bewilderment of our hero is both real and poignant as he attempts to repair his own life and that of his nephew and niece.
After around about the half way point though, the novel takes a bizarre shift into a surreal fantasy world which sees the introduction of international terrorism, swathes of Nixon-era political blathering, and the sort of saccharine-sweet schmaltz that the Americans can do so well but which I absolutely loathe! Logical plot progression is thrown out the window in favour of stereotyped flat characters and choreographed set pieces that don't bear much relation to each other. Our hero suddenly becomes apparently irresistible to women, patronises both needy American immigrants and South African villagers by throwing vast sums of cash at both, and finds time to adopt an extra child and an elderly couple. The pre-teen nephew and niece seem to mature by at least a decade in a couple of months and there's a lot of description of bodily functions, mostly diarrhoea and belching, but with a truly cringe-inducing phone call about a tampon. I can only think that it's all meant to be funny in a kind of Sex And The City 2 fashion. It isn't.
A very odd book that's about twice as long as is good for it.



He Kills Coppers by Jake Arnott
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Another repeat author for the third book of this post. I loved both The House of Rumour and The Long Firm by Jake Arnott and so had high hopes for He Kills Coppers. Unfortunately I was disappointed. The novel has a similar London underworld setting to The Long Firm and a few characters make cameo appearances, otherwise it could have been written by a completely different author. The claustrophobic atmosphere of the previous book is absent as mostly are Arnott's descriptions and interesting characterizations. Two main characters, a journalist and a policeman, take turns speaking through first-person viewpoints but their voices are so similarly portrayed that I frequently had trouble trying to distinguish which was which. Much of their language is incredibly hackneyed and there are a lot of unexplained acronyms and jargon words that don't add authenticity, merely irritation. There is also a third-person viewpoint of a murderer on the run. His odd actions are often not really explained so it was difficult to try and build up any sense of him as a person.
He Kills Coppers is a particularly blokey book I think. Attempts at atmosphere and describing emotion are haphazard and often missing altogether leaving the emphasis on action alone. Therefore during later chapters where not much happens, it all got a bit dull. I also noticed spelling and typo errors increasing towards the end of the novel suggesting that perhaps the proof reader had gotten bored by then as well!
Apparently the overall story arc is based on true events - I haven't googled yet to confirm this - but, if so, the blend of imagination and realism that Arnott pulled off so well before just didn't work for me this time around.

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Wonderful cinema in Xabia - Gone Girl

It's turned distinctly minty cool in Xabia the past couple of days with

Spanish poster for Gone Girl 

bursts of heavy rain and some gusty winds that have got our awning into a serious flap. The awning is still standing strong, but it does make a racket, especially at night time when there's no other sounds in competition. I begin to imagine disastrous collapses until peering through the window reveals absolutely nothing to worry about at all!

Hopefully our slow cooker will come into its own if the day temperatures stay similar and I've been thinking of comforting winter foods. Tonight I'm doing a cheat's Chicken Tikka Masala and yesterday I adapted my Rhubarb Crumble to use up some plums we got from the market a couple of weeks ago but that which had resolutely refused to ripen properly. They were delicious once baked.

We've discovered the local cinema in Xabia now, Cine Jayan, and were very impressed with it. The auditorium is easily the size of a smaller Cineworld screen and the high-backed chairs have good viewlines AND are comfortable. I was expecting an enthusiastic but amateur fleapit and arrived in a clean, modern cinema! Four nights a week - Tuesday through Friday - they show subtitled foreign films in their original language. We frequently attended similar evenings at Hailsham Pavilion back home but, of course, here the 'foreign films' are mostly American offerings subtitled in Spanish.

This week's film was Gone Girl, or Perdida in Spanish, based on the Gillian Flynn book which I enjoyed reading last winter (book review here). I tend to avoid films of books I've liked as they usually disappoint. Plus this one stars Ben Affleck who I'm not overkeen on either. However, once I learned that Rosamund Pike was playing Amy Dunne, I changed my mind and we stumped up our six euros each. Pike is a fabulous actress and we were lucky enough to catch her performance in Hedda Gabler at Brighton's Theatre Royal a few years ago. I get that Affleck is the bigger star, but it's irritating that a book named for its female protagonist who is one of the strongest female characters to emerge for years, relies on a male image to sell cinema seats. Grrr! Anyhow, the film is surprisingly good and we both came away from the cinema effusively praising it, especially Pike who is perfect in her role, and Kim Dickens as the police inspector. We've been watching her on DVD in the brilliant Deadwood Ultimate Collection Seasons 1-3 [DVD] over the past few months too.

Sadly, the foreign film for this week coming is something violent and bland starring Liam Neeson so we'll give that a miss, but maybe the week after will be more promising and we can make a second visit?


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The windmills walk above Xabia

A surprising early departure from Camping El Naranjal this morning as

Palm regrowth after the forest
fire, Xabia 

we finally determined that today was The Day to undertake an interesting walking route Dave spotted on the Xabia website (It's shown on the Port Xabia-Montgo pdf link) which goes from Xabia port, up into the hills above, and then back down to the port to finish. The Spanish for windmills is Molins and there are eleven, so we learned, along the La Plana ridge above the town. Originally built between the fourteenth and eighteenth centuries, their heavy mill stones were used to grind wheat into flour. I think these days all the wheat fields have either been built upon or are growing orange trees. Certainly we've not seen any yet in Spain. There was a huge processing place outside Almenara, Harinera Del Mar, and we bought their flour in the Mercadona for our bread.

We have already walked to the port and back a couple of times - it's about an hour from the campsite - so drove there today instead. There's plenty of free parking there at this time of year. Clear wooden signposts pointed us uphill on a lightly screed rough path which soon turned into a bit of a scramble. Once underway, the route is clearly marked with yellow, red and white stripes on rocks, trees and walls. Bizarrely, the whole area was blackened trees where there had been a wildfire in September. Little palm trees and cacti are already beginning to regrow so there are splashes of green amongst the cinders, but it's eerily quiet without the multitudes of birds we hear elsewhere around town. We continued clambering upwards until the path levelled out at the end of a valley, then turned back on itself with a more gradual slope across the opposing face. Part of the way up was the odd sight of a rusted car come to a halt against a tree part way down the steep slope. We wondered if its plunge from the road above had been the cause of the fire, but it didn't look particularly burned. We carried on ascending and were rewarded at the top from which there is a fantastic view across the port and out to sea.

We had to stick on the road for a kilometre or so as there were clean-up crews working to clear burned trees along the ridge. A couple of Spaniards were also 'helping' by filling their cars with chopped down but unburned wood for their winter stoves. We paused to enjoy another sea view, this time from the Cap de Sant Antoni. Having actually remembered to carry our water bottles this time, we didn't need the water taps at the recreation area nearby, but it is useful to know it's there.

The windmills themselves are each about seven metres high by six metres across and have incredibly thick stone walls. Their shells have been neatly renovated and are lit at night, but there's no machinery inside anymore. The path led back downwards from by the second windmill and, unfortunately, was a similar loose surface to the earlier uphill stretch. I went slowly as I'm rubbish at descents. I'm always convinced I will fall. Once we got to the town outskirts there were some elegant houses and the buildings became less grand as we descended back to sea level. A roundabout we recognised is topped by a full-size white painted boat surrounded by pretty blue flowers.

We got back to the car after just over three and a half hours and were nicely tired despite Dave's tracker app saying we had only walked just under ten kilometres of horizontal distance. I'm proud that our total overall ascent was four hundred and twenty-nine metres. We're getting our walking legs back in shape again!

Xabia and Moraira and apricot cheesecake

After over a week in Camping El Naranjal, we're getting a good feel for

Gazing out to sea from Moraira 

Xabia and have pretty much learnt our way around - even me! We have taken a stroll around the little Marina as well as returning to the Old part of town for a spot of shopping and a lunch. I was delighted to find an Atmosfera shop as I've just about gone through the soles of my New Orleans-bought running shoes so will definitely need a new pair soon in order to continue my current enthusiasm. I tried on a couple of pairs and decided on a snazzy blue pair of Asics. Super-Boyfriend-Davey has got them for me as my Christmas pressie :-)

We set out on a rural walk a couple of days ago which took us out on rough tracks firstly high up overlooking the sea and then steeply down into a shady wooded valley. Most of the high was sandy coloured rock with scrub and shrubs but, according to an informative placard, the area is home to over 400 plant species. A prolific one was wild rosemary and I took the opportunity to purloin a snippet or two which I substituted for the sage in this delicious pork tenderloin recipe courtesy of fellow blogger Linda at With A Blast. The walk route was meant to finish in a cove on the coast but we took much longer than suggested, probably due to my being too slow on the downhill bits which often were just scree, so had to cut short our expedition before its actual end. We didn't want to be out on the hills as dusk fell. We came back along roads which I was initially disappointed about, but cheered up when we had an hour or so wandering around an affluent residential area and gawping at the posh houses and gardens. We also discovered an interesting detail on the official Xabia street map that we had picked up from the campsite reception on arriving last week. Just because a road is on the map doesn't mean that it actually exists. We've seen several Spanish towns with road infrastructure built but no houses yet. Xabia goes one better by not even having the roads yet!

We meant to go for our first long walk-with-picnic today but postponed it due to ominous clouds this morning. Instead we drove to Moraira this afternoon. It's a pretty town fairly nearby and has a nice sandy beach although the sea is probably too cold for swimming by now. We took a quick look at Camping Moraira while we were there - for future reference. I liked the site, especially the showers which are big and all done out in marble. The pitches are dusty earth and completely shaded by pine trees which would be great in summer but would block any chance of sun at this time of the year. A shame as otherwise it has a nice vibe. It even has its own Dotto Train! We stopped for coffee and cake at a lovely Austrian cafe just off the main seafront road. It's called Bonissimo and we can highly recommend the Apricot Cheesecake!

Another day, another beach - now we're in Xabia

Xabia or Javea, however you prefer to spell it and, confusingly,

Wall mural on the edge of the Old Town area of Xabia 

pronounced har-vee-a. This a place about which I have heard a great deal from several friends over the years so I am particularly happy to be here. Our new campsite, Camping El Naranjal, is not one of the pretty ones, but the lack of green trees does mean that we will get every last drop of sunshine - when it shines. There has been Cloud here and also Spots Of Rain. Can you believe it?! The pitches are gravel and big enough but not generous. On the plus side, the shower block is completely enclosed so no uncomfortable drafts! Huge excitement for me in that there is a whole library room here too with many books in English and they're not all Catherine Cookson or John Grisham either! I've already bookcrossed three that I'd finished so expect to discover my new reads over the coming weeks. We found the table tennis table - upon which a woman was washing her dog - and there is a popular little boules court too. I do feel a bit 'on show' here, especially after the secluded pitches at Camping Malvarrosa, but I'm sure we'll get used to it and the advantage of having more in the way of walking and cycling means that we shouldn't be just hanging around the site in the daytime so much. The wifi is good here too and works out at about a euro a day for a month's premium access.

We are just on the edge of the seafront part of the new town, about ten minutes walk from the beach where there are any number of restaurants and cafes to choose from. An Indonesian takeaway, Tapindo, has already tempted our tastebuds and I had a delicious meal of hake in a spicy sauce with coconut vegetables and nasi goreng a couple of nights ago. Having arrived on Tuesday, we have begun exploring but 'gently' as we want to stay for several weeks so not exhaust all our entertainment/walking/cycling opportunities within the first week. There is an OK loop nearby but no perfect jogging route yet. We have hardly seen any joggers either but there must be some somewhere - there always are - just a question of finding them.

Dave voluntarily suggested visiting the weekly market in the old town on Thursday morning. The stunning mural pictured was spotted at the start of this trip. I liked the market and there were various clothes stalls that actually had clothes I could like to buy - if we had any room in the wardrobe. Everything is rather autumny fashionwise which is weird for us still in our shorts and t-shirts. It's easy to identify the tourists in Xabia! The old town has its permanent indoor market too as well as a labyrinth of narrow old streets and lots of different independent shops. I can see me wanting to go back several times for a good wander.

The Rape Of Nanking by Iris Chang / The Alkahest by Honore de Balzac / Half The Sky by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn

The Rape of Nanking: The Forgotten Holocaust of World War II by Iris Chang
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Buy the audiobook download from Audible via Amazon.com / Amazon.co.uk
Buy the paperback from The Book Depository
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Although not completely unaware of the Japanese invasion of China in the 1930s, I knew very little of the details or the scale of this war. Therefore, when I saw Iris Chang's The Rape of Nanking on Audible, I thought the book would help to fill in some of the gaps in my knowledge. It most certainly does.

The Rape of Nanking is not a book to be taken lightly and is eight hours listening to despicably savage and brutal inhumanity on a truly incredible scale. Anna Fields does an excellent job of the narration and Chang's research was obviously lengthy and thorough to have uncovered such a wealth of detail. I'm sure so much exposure to this level of horror would have turned her mind, even without the harassment she apparently suffered after her book was published.

For me, her most frightening findings are that the events at Nanking, while being perhaps on the largest scale the world has ever seen, are by no means an exclusive result of Japanese culture - a frequent argument I've heard about other WW2 Japanese atrocities. Similar crimes are an all too human failing, as is our ability to remain at a distance and watch rather than instinctively leaping in to protect the victims. I was disappointed but unsurprised by the fact of post-war political shenanigans allowing Japan's government to essentially get away with their actions. Such is the power of money and political paranoia.

I did find it a little odd than the few 'unsung heroes' of Nanking presented by Chang were all white Europeans and Americans. Surely some Chinese must have shown similar bravery? Or perhaps such heroes died before their stories were discovered. I understand that Chang wrote for an American audience, but that gives the book an odd Colonial slant that I found hard to reconcile with her earlier points. Also, I thought the repeated attempts to calculate total numbers were unnecessary and removed me as a listener from the immediacy of the rest of the work. My mind was blown by the initial discussions of between quarter and half a million dead in less than two months. Returning to this numbed me rather than increasing my outrage as presumably was the point.

The Rape of Nanking is a tricky book to evaluate as its subject matter is so horrific and emotive. That it is also still controversial is a bizarre twist. I appreciate Chang's efforts to spread knowledge and open discussions about Nanking. In this, she certainly achieved her aims. However, this is not the strongest written history and, at times, her inexperience shows through. I am sure by now, nearly 20 years later, other historians have taken up her challenge and further titles are out there. I'm not sure that I will be able to cope with returning to the horror in the near future though.

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The Alkahest by Honoré de Balzac
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Buy the paperback from Amazon.com / Amazon.co.uk
Buy the paperback from The Book Depository

How I got this book:
Downloaded from ForgottenBooks

I downloaded Balzac's Comedie Humaine novella, The Alkahest, together in a volume with Seraphita, another of his stories. Set in Flemish Belgium, The Alkahest concerns a well-heeled family who are driven to the brink of poverty when the father develops an all-consuming passion for chemistry, specifically alchemy. Perpetually convinced that he is at the threshold of a discovery to bring glory and untold riches to his family, he squanders generations of accumulated wealth and possessions to fund his quest.

Balzac's portrayal of the father, Balthazar, is wonderfully written and convincing throughout. His obsession with science did seem an odd choice to me, but as his behaviour deteriorates, obvious parallels can be seen to drug addictions such as to heroin and I would be interested to know if Balzac had any experience of friends or relatives drawn into addiction because he seems to understand the predicament so well. The actions of Balthazar's wife, Josephine, and eldest daughter, Marguerite, are painful to read but also totally realistic. Initially swept up in his enthusiasm for his project, Josephine schools herself in chemistry in order to understand, but is then repeatedly shattered at being cast aside in favour of the obsession. Marguerite finally gains the strength and financial power to stand between Balthazar and his laboratory, but fails to fully comprehend the insidious hold under which Balthazar exists.

The Alkahest is slow to start and it took me a couple of goes reading the first thirty or so pages before I got into the story proper. Balzac feels he needs to explain the family history and their roots within their community in detail. I got the gist pretty quickly! However, I think it was worth ploughing through all the early description as, once done, the plot continues at at swifter pace and was a good read. Perhaps the repetition of rise and fall of circumstance could have been more tightly edited, but Balzac is not a writer who felt the need to economise on word counts! I was surprised by how relevant The Alkahest is to twenty-first century living and would actually recommend it to a wider readership than Seraphita as it does not mire itself in doctrine and dogma.

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Books by Honore De Balzac / Novellas / Books from France


Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide by Nicholas D. Kristof
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I guess I have come to the Half The Sky book backwards as I have been an active member of Kiva for a couple of years, more recently joining their Half The Sky team as their goals matched my lending history. I was aware of the gist of the book and have now, finally, gotten around to reading it. The lovely people at ESPH, with whom I worked over the summer, gave me an Amazon voucher on leaving and that funded this book's purchase.

I'm not completely sure how I feel about Half The Sky now having read it. Its aims are obviously admirable and by appealing to such a wide audience and being bought in great numbers, its message will reach many people who might previously been unaware of the plight of many of our world's women. However, I felt a bit awkward at the patronising tone in some places. Written primarily for an affluent American audience, there is very much a 'them and us' feel to the writing. Abuses happen 'elsewhere' and the apparent importance and influence of American political decisions to life and death in other sovereign nations is unnerving. It reminded me of the power of the former British empire and of how many of our decisions were catastrophic to those on the receiving end. Also, the emotional manipulation throughout the text is phenomenal! At least the authors are upfront about this. They discuss how experiments have proved that individuals are more likely to donate, and to donate larger sums, to single named individual than to a country or a general appeal. (On reflection, this is also how Kiva works - by putting forward a series of individuals and their stories.) Before and after having made this point, that is exactly what the Half The Sky authors do. Don't expect much in the way of hard facts and figures, but instead there are dozens of anecdotes: stories of first-named women across Asia and Africa who were all horrifically treated, denied medical care, denied education, simply due to their gender. Reading so many tales is a bit like watching the serious bits of Children in Need or Comic Relief. You know you're being manipulated by clever research and editing, but there is a real need too and, by the end, you're pretty punch drunk and overwhelmed.

I am glad I have read Half The Sky. Similarly to The Rape of Nanking, its success is to get the world talking. It has reinforced my commitment to Kiva and I will now also be searching out other deeper books on the topics raised. Suggestions of other titles will be gratefully received.

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Books by Nicholas D Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn / Reportage / Books from America

Oh no! A grey day!

We knew it had to happen eventually and have been lucky enough to

A fishy vending machine 

have pretty much constant sunshine since we left the UK - yes, I'm gloating - but today we have had rain. Disaster!! Dave even had to put his long trousers on because his knees were cold.

Overexaggerating aside, I hope tomorrow is brighter as, even with our little awning, a caravan isn't the best place to be cooped up for too long. Although, after last winter's experience, we are better prepared this year and brought a variety of indoor activities. Today we had an arts and crafts day! Dave has been painting and I have finished stitching a Basque Lauburu symbol onto our flyscreen. A Breton Triskelion is next and I'm hoping to stitch something different to represent everywhere we visit in Bailey. I'm still undecided about country flags though. At the moment, the motifs are monochrome and I am not sure whether adding colour will be a good idea.

In other news, we are continuing our ventures into eating new fish and Dave perfectly baked a delicious rainbow trout for dinner yesterday. Unfortunately he wasn't as impressed with it as I was, but I'm still hoping he might cook it again one day. (The recipe was based around a Jamie Oliver one but don't shout about that!)

The random photo on this post is of something we had never seen before and it's right here in sleepy Almenara. We daftly set off for a walk on Sunday afternoon and forgot our water bottle. Therefore we were pleasantly surprised to spot this vending machine on a side street. We initially overlooked the marine surround which contained the massive clue,  so were baffled that instead of the expected crisps and ice-cold coke cans, it contained lead weights and other small items of fishing paraphernalia. The small polystyrene tubs on the lowest level were presumably bait - not ice cream! The machine must get a significant amount of use. There are people fishing off the beach at all hours of the day, every day, although we're yet to spot the excitement of anyone catching anything. I have noticed a few fish while swimming though so it must happen occasionally.

A final note on a booky theme, especially for those of us who enjoy a good steampunk novel. I reviewed the first part of S C Barrus' The Gin Thief series recently and he is soon to host a one-day Facebook extravaganza with over a dozen authors. To drum up excitement and anticipation for the event, there is a competition to win sixteen steampunk ebooks by the participating authors. You Can Click Here to find out more and to enter the competition. (Last entries: 13th Nov 2014)

The Awakening by Kate Chopin / The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver / The Gin Thief: Becoming Scarlet by S C Barrus

The Awakening by Kate Chopin
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Download the ebook free from Amazon.com / Amazon.co.uk
Buy the paperback from The Book Depository
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The Awakening cropped up as the ForgottenBooks book of the day a few months ago now and, as its synopsis looked interesting, I downloaded it. Set in an upper class American society in the last years on the 19th century, The Awakening attempts to understand, although not to condone, the actions of a woman who finds herself trapped in a domestic life for which she is patently unsuited but, due to the morals of the day, which she has no choice but to endure.
Edna has two children whom she loves and a frequently absent husband who loves 'owning' her. However, Edna is not overtly maternal so when she knows her children to be cared for by nursemaid of their grandmother, she often does not give them a thought from one hour to the next. I got the impression that if she had been allowed the same choice I enjoy over a century later, she would have given motherhood a miss. Unfortunately, she has blindly followed societal expectations. When a summer meeting with a younger man awakens Edna's sense of self, she first tries to bury her emotions as she 'should', but unable to continue the charade, she sets out for a future which is impossible to achieve. Her potential new man will not take the risk to be with her and a bereft Edna cannot return to her previous life.
The illustration of desperation and Edna's inner turmoil is always believable when set against the strictness of the time and I was amazed by the vitriol and spite churned up against the character in other reviews. In her mind, Edna does the right thing. Leaving her husband would permanently stigmatise her children and she would experience serious mental breakdown by staying, so instead fakes accidental drowning while the boys are safely out of the way at their grandmother's.
I liked that Chopin obviously understands her characters completely and manages to set out their lives without actually proffering any as best. Mademoiselle Reisz is fascinating and an interesting choice of confidant for Edna. Leonce is ghastly! Self-important and only out for possessions and social climbing.
The writing style is a little dated now, perhaps too coy for modern tastes, but this softness did not detract from my growing sense of unease as Edna's behaviour becomes both stronger and more erratic.

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Books by Kate Chopin / Contemporary fiction / Books from America

The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I registered my copy of this book at BookCrossing

Buy the book from Amazon.com / Amazon.co.uk
Buy the paperback from The Book Depository
Buy the paperback from Waterstones

I read another Barbara Kingsolver book, The Lacuna, a while ago, and was in two minds about it as I enjoyed the depictions of lives and relationships but was then left cold as the second half descended into dry politics. I was concerned that the brick that is The Poisonwood Bible might go the same way, so was delighted to find that it doesn't. The then current situation in The Congo/Zaire is woven around the immediate story of the Price family but its intricacies are not thoroughly explored so if you're hoping for a more factual novel of the country's upheaval, this might not be the one for you.
Instead Kingsolver has created a powerful portrait and caution against the insanity of blind faith and ill-prepared attempts to force one people to the will of another. Her creation of the out-of-their-depth Price family is inspired and I was interested to learn how a Southern 1950s white American family viewed both themselves and their Congolese hosts. Tyrant-father Nathan, believing himself master yet more useless and alienated than anyone due to his refusal to see the Congolese as more than savage children, is the only one whose words we do not directly hear, but his character is rounded out by the five women and girls, his family, existing despite his best efforts(!).
I did find it tricky early on in the novel to remember who was speaking but as each develops her own distinctive voice, the sisters and mother each show their Africa from very different viewpoints and it was interesting to see how their varying skills both allowed some entry to Congolese society but also kept them apart. The pages rushed past as I found this novel impossible to put down and have been thinking over it a lot in the couple of days since I finished. There are so many issues raised - family and friendship, race and colonialism, religion and choice, life and survival - that I think I could read The Poisonwood Bible several times, seeing new detail in it with each read. Perhaps this is one that won't get Bookcrossed too quickly!

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Books by Barbara Kingsolver / Historical fiction / Books from America


The Gin Thief: Episode 1: Becoming Scarlet by S C Barrus
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I've not tried reading a serialised book as it is published before so am interested to learn whether I will be able to remember all the storylines over a period of time. Generally I read intensively with scarcely a pause until my current novel is finished, immersing myself in it completely. My break with tradition was caused by spotting the Kickstarter campaign for S C Barrus' new creation, The Gin Thief series. Taking a minor set of characters, The Scarlets, from his steampunk novel Discovering Aberration which I previously enjoyed reading, he is now telling their story and particularly that of their now newest recruit, Miss Yevylin Over.
S C's writing style is dense with intricate descriptions of place, costume and character. I appreciate that he takes time to set up scenes without simply rushing to the action and, although this does mean his stories advance at a slower pace than those of other authors, I think the approach suits the imaginative steampunk genre and it also mirrors that of Victorian authors so adds to the 'genuine' atmosphere.
Becoming Scarlet, as the title suggests, recounts how Yevylin meets and tries to join The Scarlets. A plot device of her storytelling for the leader, The Missus, works well to allow us to get to know her while still keeping up pace and I am now eager to download the second installment!

Els Estanys - picnic area or rubbish dump?

A closer to home post today starting with a nearby walk we recently

Bailey and our Conservatory 

did in an area known as Els Estanys. Dave spotted picnic tables whilst out on a bicycle ride and thought the hill beside might be good for walking. We booted up one afternoon and set out but were disappointed on arrival as what we took for the car park was graffitied and desolate. We wandered past the picnic tables, lightly littered from a recent birthday, and the further we got uphill, the worse the littering got. What is it with the Spanish and fly-tipping? Our walk was briefly improved by the aroma of orange blossom whilst passing a grove of the trees, and also by sighting a pair of bright Red Admiral butterflies, but then we were foiled by a sheer cliff and decided to turn back and head towards some marshland we had spotted instead.

What a fortunate choice! One the other side of Els Estanys, where there are yet more picnic tables, a far smarter car park and a restaurant (closed), the Valencia area authority has created a large coarse fishing lake. There is a walkway all around and little deck piers on which the fishers can sit undisturbed. Shrubbery and reeds have grown up to provide shade for people and cover for birds and we particularly liked a vivid purply-blue flowering bindweed. There were lots of carp in the lake - all up the other end from three men fishing of course - and a single cormorant on watch. Two viewing hides allowed birdwatching across a neighbouring wild lake and their walls were decorated with pictures and information about birds we might see (but didn't). Instead, we spent a while watching for individual fish leaping out of the water. It's addictive in the same way as looking for shooting stars. You know another fish will jump soon but can almost guarantee that you'll be looking the wrong way at the time!

Back home, we have just about got our set up perfect now which is good as we think we'll be here for another week or so - if Dave can cope with the noise. It's mostly not excessive but the people on the next pitch have brought a pair of caged parakeets with them and the poor birds screech frequently throughout the day.

In the past we have erected our porch awning over the doorway but have not liked that the near poles were then always over at least one window causing them to stand at a weird angle and decreasing the structure's stability. This time, I thought I would try putting the awning completely behind the doorway and this works much better on several counts. Firstly, of course, we are not blocking any windows. Also, we gain space by not needing to leave a passageway to the outside. Plus Dave likes being able to open the caravan door straight to the great outdoors. We have set up our brilliant Outwell cupboard with our electric hob on the top, and have even got space for our nice garden table as a dining area. The addition of our new Kampa hanging lamp completes our Conservatory!

Valencia City of Arts and Sciences

We are having a lazy day today - only three dips in the sea - after having

Gargoyle guarding the Pont del Regne 

walked ourselves a tad too far around Valencia yesterday. For our second day in the city, we decided to visit the spectacular Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias which was designed by Santiago Calatrava and Felix Candela. The architecture itself makes the area worth a visit and we spent a good while staring up and across at bizarre structures that are reminiscent of some ancient sea creature lurking in pools of sparkling clear water. Of course, building the whole complex had gone catastrophically over budget by the time it was completed in 2005 so there is a degree of controversy locally. However from the tourist point of view, it was a must see for us!

In a departure from our usual practice, we actually paid up to go inside two of the buildings instead of just gawping for free from the outside. L'Hemisferic resembles a giant eye and houses an IMAX cinema. We were able to see a fascinating short film, narrated by Miranda Richardson no less(!), which explored the discoveries made by astronomers using the Very Large Telescopes in the Atacama desert. Some NASA footage was shown too including stunning close-ups of the surface of Mars. I've not visited an IMAX before. Is the seating always so steeply tiered or is this due to L'Hemisferic's shape?

The second building for us was El Museo de les Ciencias. This huge interactive gallery is spread over four floors and contains seemingly endless fun exhibits covering a wide range of sciences. It is the perfect place to go if you have school-age kids or if you are a big kid yourself! There's so much to see and almost all the exhibits are practical. We saw ourselves through a thermal imaging camera and I failed to build a roman arch - it fell down. We made a tornado and tried to grab a metal spiral that turned out not to be there at all. The museum even has a big Foucault Pendulum hanging from the roof.

I was wrong about Cabanyal being the closest railway station to La Ciudad and we ended up going to Valencia Del Nord and walking from there. We chose to head straight for a huge park that bisects the city along the original route of the now-diverted River Turia. This is a wonderful space that includes grassy lawns, trails, shaded areas, flower beds, more joggers and cyclists than we could shake a stick at (note to self - take more sticks next time!) and all of the length that we saw was neat and well-cared-for. A great resource for city dwellers and tourists alike. The scary gargoyle pictured was one of a pair guarding one end of the Pont Del Regne bridge. It vaguely reminded me of the one in Ghostbusters and I thought the image best suited for this almost-Halloween post. Unfortunately, I am yet to find out who the sculptor was so more Googling needed.