For our latest trip, we rented a house in the south of Spain, on the Costa del Sol. The house belongs to the parents of a woman with whom Jo works. It was a townhouse style home in a holiday development area. Overseas properties are popular here in the UK as people seek nice weather using the strong pound.

Part of staying on the coast was the need to rent a car. This was the first time that either of us had driven a car in eighteen months. We had a Volkswagen Polo, which is the next size down from a Golf. In Spain, they drive on the right, which is to say right, side of the road, so there was too much adjustment there. There were a couple of issues though.

Instead of intersections the Spanish, as most places in Europe, have roundabouts, rather than intersections. These are a little confusing at first. You have to dive in, whip round to your exit and try to get out. Or whip round again and try to catch the exit next time. Fortunately, the local people are most helpful offering a toot of the horn or some directions called out of the window as they pass by. Some even indicated that our driving was number one.

Once we were on the AutoVia (highway), there were signs that said “120”. I interpreted this as a speed limit until we were quickly strafed by a Grandmother in a Fiat. It turns out that the sign was more of a floor than a ceiling. In Spain, not much is done in an unhurried pace with the exception of driving.

We drove up into the mountains to a town called Casares. It was founded in the sixth century by people from north Africa who invaded the Iberian peninsula. The town was built at the top of a mountain with a mosque and a castle looking down on the town. The buildings are all square and white. They look like sugar cubes stacked on the side of the hill. In the Arab tradition, all of the streets are narrow and winding. There is very little access for cars and most of the streets are not even wide enough for cars to pass along.




















Making friends... everywhere.

No trip to the Costa del Sol could be complete without a trip to the beach. We were lucky with the weather on the day we picked for the beach. The beaches in Spain are all public and there is access to the beach from the main street in the town. The beach was sparsely populated as it was a weekday in October. We took a picnic lunch and sat looking out at the ocean in front of us, with the mountains rising up behind us.

Gibraltar was our road trip on the Thursday of our holiday. We couldn’t drive the rental car into Gibraltar. We drove as close to the border as we could and parked the car in an underground lot. The customs had a walk-through lane. Once you walk out of the customs the road and the sidewalk pass across the only runway of the Gibraltar airport.

The top of the rock is accessible by cable car that whisks you right to the top. When you get to the top of the rock, the views are spectacular. To one side, the azure ocean and resort hotels. To another side, a view of Spain and the harbour in Gibraltar. Off in the distance, when there was a break in the clouds, you could catch a glimpse of the coast of Africa.

On the top of Gibraltar there are free range Barbary apes. These are a medium sized monkey looking creatures. They are native to the hills of Gibraltar. As they are constantly exposed to people, they are accustomed to people being around. This does not mean that they are tame. One of them pushed his way past Joanne and snatched a plastic bag out of a woman’s hand. They associate bags with food and will grab them.

Gibraltar is still a British protectorate, which has led to a great deal of uneasiness between Spain, Britain and Gibraltar. The culture there is noticeably British, as opposed to Spanish just across the border. There is a fusion of British and Spanish to the point that stores take British pounds and Euros, returning your change in Gibraltar sterling. Which is usable nowhere else.

Ronda is another ancient town in the mountains we went to see. This town is way up in the mountains. The road to reach Ronda is 49 km of twisting two-lane carved into the side of the mountain. The road is populated by the usual mix that you find on roads like this. Tourists that plod along, local people familiar with the road who clip along and the trucks that easily double the speed limit.

Despite this, the road was amazing. We came around a corner and saw flock of Kestrels soaring on the thermal currents coming up from the valley far below. Kestrels are large birds, like a falcon that have a wingspan of six feet. The road often turned and open up a wonderful vista of the mountains and the fields in the valley below.

The old part of Ronda was also built in the sixth century as a walled city. It is built next to a gorge that is 300 feet deep. When the Christians invaded and conquered the Arab founders, they expanded into what is now the “new” town on the opposite of the gorge. This was in 1485. There are two bridges in the town than span the gorge, making for dizzying views.


Spain seems to ahead of many of the places that we have been in terms of wind-generated power. From the balcony of our house, we could see as many as twenty wind turbines on the ridge of the mountain. It seemed that there were turbines on top of each of the mountains. We drove past a wind farm that had no fewer than four dozen windmills.


About the only thing that we had go wrong was my allergies. I do suffer from a bit of hay fever, but nothing too big. Usually, I have about a month of having to take a bit of Sudafed or similar. Whatever I am allergic to was in full force in the Spain. In fact, I think that there was some of it there on vacation from other countries.

We sat watching the Rugby World Cup on Sunday evening and my allergies were so bad, Joanne appeared from the kitchen with an ice pack in her hand. I had to spend the evening holding these to my face to be able to breathe. Attractive.