September 4-9th Peniscola

September 4^th.

We drove inland for just over 60 kilometres this morning, up into the hills. It wasn’t a steep ascent, but we got to about 850 metres above sea level before we parked the truck, and walked the rest of the way up to Morella a small village of narrow streets, interesting buildings and ruined castle on top of a rock at a height of 1070m.

The drive over was very pretty in an arid kind of way, unfortunately though there were many scenes I would have liked to photograph, the roads were not safe or straight or wide enough to pull over at many points at all. There were olive groves with very old and gnarled trees, huge fat but stumpy trunks, and an afro of silver green growth covered with olives. I think I read somewhere that the harvest time is still a month or two away, so that will be fun to watch. The other main crop around the area is of course oranges; we are in Valencia after all. There are groves of very dark green trees, with large crops of still green oranges hanging down, contrasting against the brick red soil. There has been a lot of terracing done in places along the road too, with stone retaining walls following the curve of the hills, often looking like half amphitheatres. There is much evidence of abandonment too, with many of the terraced areas not used for cropping (well apparently not), and many fine old stone and adobe type buildings boarded up and empty.  I’m not sure if it is a sign of urbanisation, the recession and the fact that Spain has been hit hard economically, or if the cost of upkeep on such places is prohibitive, you can’t really tell if it is a recent occurrence or long-standing. I have no idea what the cost of such places would be, but I imagine they are the types of places you see English couples on television programmes, buying up and renovating over a couple of years .

Views of Morella and surrounding countryside

As I said, Morella itself is an ancient village, built on a steep hill with a huge rock outcrop at its summit which is topped by a now, mostly ruined castle, which was initially built in the Islamic times from the 700s onwards. Over the years it has continually been the centre of hostility with each successive overthrowing resulting in additions or alterations being made to the castle. Even today there is netting covering parts of it and evidence of on-going building work.  We walked up into the castle where there are wonderful views down from the mountain, over the village and way over the surrounding country-side.  There was a small museum inside which housed a few relics which had been uncovered during restoration, including baked clay pots and some ornate stone work. We left the castle and continued back down through the village stopping at the local church. Inside was very dark, but glowing faintly in the distance was a golden alter area and behind (what’s that called???). I couldn’t see very well, I only had my dark prescription glasses, so it was either very dark but in focus or slightly less dark but out of focus, however the camera managed to capture some of its beauty.  

Earlier in the day we had called into the Information Centre to obtain a map or touristy route pamphlet which we were able to procure, it had things on it such as the town hall/municipal guild etc.  which is supposed to be ornate and a good representation of early medieval building, with huge exposed wooden beams and high ceilings. It was mostly locked up though as it was Sunday so we just got to press our noses against the glass doorways upstairs.

We ambled through the streets, mostly “artisan” food shops selling aged cured jamon, cheeses, and honey. Also a selection of wine shops or olive oil/spices/gourmet type shops, interspersed with bakeries wafting out delicious fresh bread and pastry smells. Of course there were also numerous knicknack shops selling postcards, magnets, little dolls and other touristy paraphernalia. We got a few postcards, some cheese, I think a material patch for Di’s blanket, and a pin broach for Hilary’s collection. We also bought delicious fresh tomatoes from a vegetable stall, and sampled and then bought a melon from another. I can’t remember the name of the melon, it is more rugby ball shaped than a watermelon or honey dew, dark green and yellow flecked, and twice the size (at least of a rock melon. The flesh is similar to a honey dew, pale green/cream and the taste not dissimilar either. It is very delicious and goes down a treat when cold, either alone or accompanied by my favourite, feta. Hilary doesn’t enjoy it, she is a watermelon only girl at this stage, but I remember I was a lot older before I enjoyed other melons too.

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Inside the local church

Statue on the way up to the castle

 

Village scene

Roofs

After we had walked around the village and then back to the truck we drove on a further 10 or so kms to a little village called Forcall. We had a late lunch parked in a small street overlooking pretty gardens and old stone deserted buildings, with huge rocky outcrops overlooking the village in the distance. We had intended looking around the village a bit, including a well preserved square with interesting old buildings, but it was mid-afternoon and we were all pretty tired after a day in the heat, so instead we drove back to the camp-site we had been at earlier, arriving back at about 4pm.

Hilary and I went for a swim at the  beach before we organised dinner, and then played cards before bed. It is really nice in the evenings just sitting around chatting, playing cards and being a family, something we tend not to do at home, when we get distracted by chores, t.v. or other media. We really must try to continue to have family evenings once back in Christchurch, of course when I am working afternoon shift it won’t be possible, but I’m sure we can manage at least one non-t.v. evening a week.

September 5^th.

We had a very quiet day today. We are still here midway between Benicarlo and Peniscola, at our campsite. I’m not sure if I have described this site? Camp-site is a very loosely used term. What we have is a large gravel flat patch divided into two parts. The front part is for day-time parking and is filled predominantly with cars, I’m not sure if they are all tourists or if some people who work in the businesses around park here for the day. It is a bit like a Mainzeal car park, with someone in a little box by the entrance overseeing the pay and display, there is room for a good hundred cars I guess. Out the back is where we are, separated from the day time parking by a fence of chicken wire, this is where the campervans park for the night. It had power on bollards, no designated parking spaces, just a large flat open patch of gravel with about 5 rows of trees with sufficient room between to park, if your power cord is long enough to reach the power outlets. There is also an area for emptying grey water and another for chemical toilets. Another area has a sink and another fresh potable water. There is a block with two toilets (always clean, and lots of space) and one cold water only shower. It sounds basic, and some of you are probably thinking, “sounds hellish”.  It isn’t, we have everything we need, the beach is 130 metres away, supermarket about 500 metres, our campervan has all we need to live happily in, we can put out our awning and make an extra out-door space where we have our picnic table and chairs, and deck chairs set up. It is in fact blissful, the weather is hot and sunny, we have shade when we need it, we can relax and do nothing, or be active if we want.

Today we chose a bit of both. The beginning of the morning was spent on chores, recorder practice, washing, breakfast, dishes, water filling, a bit of writing, and then Di and Hilary did some of the book, I did a little of this blogging (well the writing without the internet connection), and Hilary wrote a postcard. After lunch we did more of the same, I did some stitching and Hilary played with her toys and some water, while Di continued with the book. Mid afternoon I biked down to the supermarket and got a few odds and ends, Hilary and Diana had requested “prawns” for dinner, after smelling something garlicky and buttery being cooked on the barbecue of the French couple next-door at lunch-time. I wasn’t sure where to buy fresh prawns, probably there is a market in Benicarlo, but the ones at the supermarket looked fresh to me, packed on ice in the fish section, so I bought some of those. I don’t know how prices compare to NZ, these were huge compared to some I’ve seen, they were about 20gms each I worked out as I bought 18 and they were about 300gms. The price was 11.99 euro a kilo, which I think is quite good? Anyway, I took them home and cooked them up later for the others (I don’t do shell-fish!).

The beach near Peniscola (not our part thankfully)

Prawns for dinner

Sand sculptures

It was a bit cooler today, I think it struggled up to 30 degrees in the mid-afternoon, but there was quite a sea breeze chopping up the water and cooling the land down. Anyway I almost convinced myself it wasn’t warm enough to swim, but thankfully I girded my loins and headed off to the beach for an hour at about 4.30. I lay in the sun for a while before having a delightful swim and float in the waves just off shore. It is a reasonably steep drop of the beach, so it is only about 8 metres off shore before I am out of my depth. I do worry about sharks, especially as the water is so warm, I’m sure they can’t be far away. I haven’t seen any fins yet, but I don’t wear my glasses in the water (funnily enough) so I probably wouldn’t see them until they were tearing my flesh apart anyway.

After my swim (the others didn’t care to join me, preferring to stay at the truck) I went back and organised dinner. I did the prawns in garlic, butter and a little freshly squeezed Valencia orange juice. They went down a treat, the girls fighting over who would have the extra one, Diana winning out in the end. I asked if there could have been anything to improve them but they both said “no” as the butter dripped down their chins.

We had another quiet, family night in, playing cards and drinking cups of tea or cold lemonade.

September 6^th

We had a 10 minute down pour last night, enough to make Diana rush outside and bring in the washing, and close all the windows in the truck, and then it was pretty much over.
This morning dawned bright blue sky again, slightly cooler, 23 at 8 a.m. and I’m not sure it topped 31. After we had done a few chores we biked the 7kms into Peniscola to post some postcards, catch up with the Tourist information and have a poke around. We wandered in the streets that the locals use, slightly away from the main tourist thoroughfare, but still geared up for that with many souvenir shops, and dozens of food establishments, all selling very similar food at similar prices. I noticed a plate of prawns (I can’t remember what they called them), but it was 15 euro at an ordinary type restaurant, paella (chocka with sea food) is around about 11 euro per person, you often have to buy for two people minimum which would suit the two sea food guzzlers I live with. 

The reason we wanted to go to the tourist information centre again was that Di had seen something about a fiesta that was beginning this week so we thought we would find out a bit more, like what exactly and when, so we could determine our plans for the next wee while. Well the party starts tomorrow (unfortunately the booklet is all in Spanish) but we think it kicks off with a blessing/religious component to some Spanish Saint, and then the evening progresses to fireworks and music. The festival continues for about 10 days with a mixture of music, dance, more fireworks, a floral festival, traditional clothing and I think that religious thing where young girls get shown to the town bedecked in flowing, lacy white dresses. There are also some days when they have bulls running around on the beach, hopefully not being too traumatised, and hopefully fun to watch. We’ll clarify exactly what is happening when, but plan to stick around here for a few more days at least.

We spent a few hours this afternoon at the beach, a combination of swimming, reading in the sun, snoozing, and playing in the sand. There was a gentle sea breeze which made it pleasantly cool (or warm) (depending on which way you look at it).  Then we came back to the truck for pre-dinner sangria and lemonade.

Between our campsite and Peniscola

Enjoying the briny

This evening we sat outside at our picnic table chatting and playing cards until just after 9 when I suggested bed preparations should occur. Di and Hilary are now lounging in their respective beds reading, while I type, the neighbours chat away in French and Spanish respectively and a cricket which has just this evening taken up residence under the truck, chirrps about the balmy autumn evening.

September 7^th

We just had a very cruisy day swimming at the beach, gentle bike riding, and hanging out at the campervan. It was another stinky hot day.

September 8th

What a dreadful night’s sleep, first time for ages I was awake until after 3, finally at Di’s brilliant suggestion un-rooted an Imovane (well part of one) and was out like a light within quarter of an hour. I’m not sure what the problem was, it was very muggy (I don’t think the temperature dropped below 30 until about 3, and the humidity increases during the night, up into the 90s% often by morning).  I also felt worried/nervous, probably a combination of forgetting my pills for a few days, and the thriller I am reading which is very “on edge” and suspenseful, possibly not the best night-time reading!

We had a quiet morning just mooching around, and then went to the beach for swim and play. We had lunch outside under the awning, the usual fare of fresh bread, cheeses, fresh fruit and salady things, washed down with lashings of cold lemonade. In the early afternoon we had a rest time, slouching around reading, stitching, writing postcards…. It is very easy to understand how the siesta and day/night-time routine has evolved, it really is hard to muster the energy during the midday early to mid-afternoon period to do anything other than restful quiet things. We can’t quite get into the routine of eating dinner at 10 o’clock though, we have usually eaten, tidied up, and sometimes even been for an evening walk before the French and Spanish campervanners have fired up their barbecues, or headed out for dinner!!

Just after 4pm we headed out on our bikes to Peniscola, it was very hot and lots of people in the sea further down near the old town. We locked up our bikes and climbed up through the old gateways following the streams of people, and headed towards the sound of a band warming up (the old brass/wind instrument kind, not electric guitars and the like). The parade of the Moors and Christians was about to commence, with children and adults in traditional dress from black and white Maid like out-fits, to white tops with a band of green over one shoulder and red over the other. Men dressed in frilly pale blue dresses and with white shoes, dancing with castanets, moors all done up in turban type head wear and multi coloured flowing garments, not to mention the men on their horses (not real ones, like something ripped from a passing carousel), Hilary was sure they must feel embarrassed.

A selection of pictures from the parade

Hilary looking Bridgit Bardo ish

The procession didn’t last long, only a hundred or so participants, but full of energy and fervour despite the tremendous heat, dancing up hill (quite steep) and many layers of clothes. They were dripping, but didn’t let that get in the way of their passion and enjoyment.

We had a wee browse around the few stalls that were plying their wares, grabbed an ice-block for Di and Hilary and then biked back the 7kms to our camper.

We had dinner, played cards, and dropped into bed exhausted at about 9.30. Hilary and Di read late, but I was out like a light.   

September 9^th

We had a late start to the morning, doing breakfast things, a bit of washing, music practice. I biked down to the supermarket, a different one I hadn’t tried before called “Mercado” obviously a Spanish large chain. It was very busy, I got there at about 1130 I guess. The prices were very good, much cheaper than the “Beauprice” I had been going to earlier in the week (as it was about 600 metres closer). I stood in line at the fish counter for half an hour while 4 women furiously served customers, filleting fish, chopping up squid, and making beautiful whole fish look like something to be presented on  a plate. After waiting for that time, I decided that it didn’t appear as though I was getting any closer to being served, so instead of buying the girls a selection of fresh prawns, (orange ones and grey and brown, at half the price (6.99 a kilo)that they had been at the other supermarket, I chose half a kilo of already packaged on a tray orange prawns and headed back on the bike, weighed down with fresh bread, bacon, pork, lemonade, razors (for my legs) and a few other vitals.

We had lunch, and then I decided it was time I embarked on a beautification programme. So I sat in the sun with a bucket of warm water, liquid soap and a razor and started defoliating. Well, the razor struggled to put it mildly. Hilary sat with a chair drawn right up, bemused by this peculiar behaviour, asking multiple questions about how and why we embark on the procedure of shaving. After about half an hour and little progress beyond my knees, I lost concentration. I had done the usual nicks on my ankles over my malleolus which stung outrageously when the soap trickled onto them, but the finale was to take a bug hunk out of my middle finger on my left hand.  I thought the razor was blunt as it struggled to make headway on my forested legs, but it took off half a fingernail (and the flesh underneath with narry a backward glance.) It didn’t hurt but when I saw this hunk of pallid flesh and nail stuck in the blades of the razor, and knowing it came from my finger I broke out in a cold sweat and felt a bit starry eyed.

I spent the next wee while trying to get the picture out of my memory, lying on my back with my feet in the air, being fanned by Hilary, cold flannel on my face, feeling really pathetically wimpy, and knowing there was a reason I didn’t embark on this crazy act of shaving, more frequently.

We didn’t go swimming today, instead we sat around being Spanish until about 6 when I cooked up another batch of prawns for the girls, and we had a leisurely dinner outside in the gathering darkness. We have been befriended by a cat mother and her three kittens, who must be about 10 weeks old I guess. They were here about a week ago, and then disappeared for a few days. We weren’t sure if they were still alive, especially as you can hear dogs (multiple) barking and howling ferociously at night in the near distance, and it isn’t clear what they are up to, and also what sounds like rifle fire, periodically shatters the night. However today they reappeared and we fed them cat biscuits (which I had bought for them earlier), and prawn heads and shells. They were very pleased indeed, and will be sorry to see us go I imagine. Hilary of course loves them, they don’t appear wild, they are well kept, and we think live at the big house next door. We have told Hilary not to treat them as domesticated however especially as diseases such as rabies are rife here, but they seem very friendly towards us (as they should be), and watching three kittens at play is a very relaxing pastime.

About 9 o’clock we decided to walk towards Peniscola, we had missed the festivities of the fireworks and procession with the Virgin/Patron Saint of the town, but we thought we might see some more action as the festivities are to continue each day for another week at least.   We walked along the water’s edge in the moonlight, not quite a full moon, but very nearly so, casting a gorgeous silver sheen on the ocean and with the orange and other coloured lights of the town glowing in the distance and over the sea very pretty. We walked for about half an hour and then sat in the darkness watching the sea and lights, Hilary in togs playing in the water and then she and di building sand sculptures. About 10 we turned back for the camper, walking along the promenade, past hawkers and souvenir shops and dozens of restaurants and fancy hotels. We got back to the camper at about 10 30, the rest of the village/campsite seemed to be heading out for the night, babies, children and all, we however had bucket showers in the darkness and then headed into bed.