Snake – Walking without a donkey

Walking without a donkey - travels in Spain

Olocau – the last blog… but is it?

14 – 17 March 2018.

A beautiful spot I came across when walking in the Sierra Calderona Natural Park.

It is Saturday: poor unsuspecting Spanish men are running and cycling in the vicinity and they are therefore besieged by the dogs! After 2 hours plus of careering out of the house in full-bark, I bribed them (the dogs that is) with biscuits and locked them up inside. More for me than for the populace really!

What prickly places I get myself into for a shot! I have the scars to prove it.

At 6. 30am I received message number one of many from G. (the owner of the house in which I am ‘sitting’) telling me about her car break-down on leaving France to return home, so maybe this will not be the last blog after all …

Perhaps if she knew what I did with her other car on Thursday night, she would be here sooner: Sue, G’s colleague, had kindly offered to take me in to Valencia for Las Fallas, a celebration of the coming of Spring. I drove to hers with the aid of Google maps (on the opposite side of the road, remember; in the dark; in a car which is so big for me I need two cushions to reach the peddles), and as usual I got lost.

One U-turn later, I was speeding along a cami (which is a smaller road which runs parallel to the main A-one) in the wrong direction, and, after stopping to ‘recentre’, I followed the instructions and took ‘a very sharp left’ – there was a diagram and everything. In fact I got out of the car to look before I did it as I seemed to be very close to a roundabout and … yes, there was a ridge with black and white chevrons painted on the edge of it, but for some reason I believed Google instead of my instinct. Why on earth? It was hard work, but I persevered. And then the car got wedged – I mean, really stuck: the two front wheels on one side of the bit you were not under any circumstances supposed to try and go over, and the two back on the other.

In retrospect, I do not have any excuses – it was simply stupidity. I got out of the driver’s seat and had a look, disbelieving; I got back in and tried to go forwards; I got out and had another look and then back in again and tried to go in the other direction; I wondered if I might be in danger of being crashed into so located the flashers pretty quickly; then I stood on the road a third time and looked at the vehicle.

Immediately a Citroën stopped and two couples got out. Not long afterwards, another sort of car did the same, and, to cut a rather long story short, one of the brilliant women thought of jamming stones under the front wheel and someone else moved the car and bit-by-bit it was freed. Meanwhile, I stood around and remembered the odd word of Spanish and not one person criticised me or shouted – they just helped. And later when Sue arrived it was just like in Edinburgh: she knew the wonder-woman who had ‘done the trick’, she had actually been her English teacher. Well, that is Spain for you – help coming out of my ears wherever I need it (if you get my drift). Oh, and the car is undamaged.

wp-1521287624179..jpg — I tried to feed Severus Snake his warmed up (previously frozen) mouse yesterday, but although he swayed his head around a bit, he would not take it. However, I did remove the poo from his cage, which is all that remains from last week’s meal.

wp-1521287624132..jpg — A stunning light display at Valencia Las Fallas Festival – the colours changed with the music. It went on for about 10 minutes. Fantastic.

We did not get into Valencia until about 11pm but it was worth it. Basically Las Fallas seems to be a festival of lights, fireworks, and Disney-style erections in every available plaza (square) designed and built by groups of local residents in a massive competition. Some of the women and girls dress up in national costume with flat circular plaits over their ears. I think the photos speak for themselves. While you look, imagine the loudest possible firecrackers going off unexpectedly behind your back while you run for your life. Perhaps my nerves were a little on edge.

wp-1521287624066..jpg — Some of the displays were unfinished and protected by fences.

On an altogether calmer note, I visited the San Vicente National Park near Llíria with it’s attractive chapel and fish/duck ponds. Here are some more images for you to feast your eyes on.

wp-1521287602864..jpg — The Ermita de San Vicente, 18th century.

wp-1521287624141..jpg — There are little sandy patches under the water where the spring bubbles up and huge carp.

This morning I sent in my latest book review and here I am quoting Thomas Traherne in his Centuries of Meditation, (a book I will certainly be reading later). He was a mid-17th century thinker who said that the Hobbesian world view of a material and mechanistic life was likely to make humans feel depressed, afraid and cut off from the cosmos (p. 198 of The Art of Losing Control by Jules Evans). I am a firm believer that we all need a well-rounded and vast life, one which contains joy and ecstasy, and adventure as well as peace and quiet. That is why I set off to Spain in the first place in Autumn 2016. Never looked back!

I trained as a dancer between 1981-85 at The Laban Centre which was then part of Goldsmith’s College, University of London. I was extremely unhappy a lot of the time and it was really hard, but even now I am glad for the part where we were taught to listen to the rhythm of the body. Walking is a pleasure for me, and when I pace I can hear the melody of my movements, not because I am any more balletic than any other, but because I learned that skill and it is a conduit for mindfulness. Being aware of each step, the quality of the flow and the balance, brings me into the moment and allows me to stop focusing on the past or future.

wp-1521287624114..jpg — Dainty blossom: now sprinkled in the puddles by the wind.

Then I can make observations: thyme’s little purple flowers between the stones, and the weird, fluffy and speckled seed heads draw my attention; the volcano-shaped anthill are all a-busy; the heather is clad in its girl colours; and, as my sense of smell returns, the pine, the dogs’ breath.

wp-1521291082410..jpg — An Oleander seed pod.

wp-1521287602879..jpg — Not sure if you can see the ants.

wp-1521287624105..jpg — Beautiful reflections.

It is a funny thing, fitness, you only know it is improving if you measure it: a hill which was a struggle on day one is easier now. With the full backpack (which is supposed to be 10% of one’s bodyweight), I find myself leaping up little boulders and breaking into small runs; taking it at a fair lick; the dogs and I overtaking each other; and my ankles, thighs and centre feeling a lot stronger which gives me confidence for the upcoming Camino.

Like all Shiatsu practitioners I know, once the terrible afflictions have passed my clients simply forget and it is only when I ask them, ‘So how’s your..? that they remember and reply’ Oh, that, I have not thought about that since I last saw you!’ You see, it is the same thing – if one is in the moment, life just is the way that it is.

wp-1521287624085..jpg — Euphorbia – spectacular Spring green.

Parque Parochial San Vicente website

Walking without a donkey - travels in Spain

Olocau, Spain Mother’s Day weekend

10 / 11 March 2018

Thanks to the honest shop assistant in Curry’s in Edinburgh where I went to buy a tablet so I had larger keys than my mobile to type with, I am writing this using my new Bluetooth portable keyboard. At less than a tenth of the price, it weighs 197.3g and folds up into a 4×6 inch slim size so is ideal for my rucksack. I have also finally found the brain space to think to download a photo resizing app. I hope my daughters are proud of my technological abilities when forced to manage alone. It is all down to their patient teaching throughout childhood!

After 24 hours without adult conversation (I am lucky that I never seem to get lonely) I slept well and my wrist, which I thought I had broken when I slipped on the bathroom floor the night before last, was considerably better.

I therefore reinstated my morning meditation, stretching, porridge and Duolingo routine which of course makes things better. It does seem a little incongruous to be breakfasting on oats and lunching on veg and chickpea soup as at home, but it suits my digestion and is good prep for the upcoming walking.

Louis asleep in Sophie’s kennel. Sophie chews everything if she’s left inside at night.

I thought I had lost the snake and panicked. Luckily I discovered him hanging from the roof bar of his glass case. As yet no poo to clear despite it being 3 days since his weekly rat.

A group of T’s friends, 12 year olds in trunks and trainers, caught me typing away in my knickers (it was hot!). I tried out my Spanish by way of explanation that he was not here, but they stayed anyway, all turning somersaults on the trampoline at the same time. They helped themselves to the pool, towels, water and other toys until I had had enough of their boisterousness. They are obviously used to being welcomed.

Saturday’s walk was a bit of a disaster. I tried to visit Llopps, the ancient ruins on the top of the hill nearby, but it is reached by way of a small road. I discovered that the puppy has probably never been on a lead before so she was none too happy with me insisting and we had to return to the house. Not before the three of them had raced up someone else’s drive and the owner had shouted and cursed at me.

There was a spectacular storm with sonorous thunder and torrential rain which certainly put paid to my asparagus picking plans and left deep orange puddles everywhere.

Saturday night was film night as a result: It turns out that I have already seen ‘Today’s Special’ before about a sous-chef who aspires to greater things but needs to embrace his native culture in order to bring them about. I enjoyed this quote in which Samir explains why he is still in New York: ‘I had some plans that changed.’ The wise old ‘magical’ character replies: ‘I had a million and one plans that changed. Even the ones that worked out didn’t work out the way I had planned.’

Usually the river bed is completely dry but today there was some moisture.

On Sunday, my kind friends Emma and Eduardo took me once again to find asparagus for the tortillas. This time we got right up into the mountains (approximately 50km from Valencia), driving around the S-bends of the treacherous CV-25, through Old Marines (where I once found myself mistakenly after 4 hours of walking in 30 degrees heat), and then Gátova with its elegant church tower, until we branched left past the Roman Bridge to the picturesque Fuente de la Alameda. With simple space for picnics, I recommend this day-trip.

We wandered between the stepped slopes, almonds trees dressed like Cinderella going to the ball, and olives looking dashing in their own immature silver-green garb. However, the changeable weather – brilliant blue skies interspersed with showers – revealed that the season is still too young at this altitude, and the trip was aborted.

Driving through this landscape, it is as if Paulozzi’s giants have come to life and hurtled rocks at each other, leaving them strewn randomly. It was nice to listen to the constant gentle Spanish in the front of the car – this couple seemed to have so much to say to each other.

Prickly pears starting to errupt on the sides of the quilted cactus pads.

Later I trekked around familiar and new ground with my canine companions for a couple of hours, admiring the wild flowers and feeling my legs getting stronger.

I enjoyed my tortilla later. Thanks to G’s healthy free-range chickens, this is the true colour of my feast.

Walking without a donkey - travels in Spain

Olocau, Spain – March 2018

The ranch style property I am looking after.

This trip I am going to try to blog daily or every 2 days and see what it is like, so it will be in real time for my friends and relations. It also means I will not have lots of writing to do on my return. Let me see what the difference is doing it this way and if I keep it up!

8 / 9 March 2018

I arrived into the familiar velvet Spanish air and exhaled deeply. It is possible that Spain might have been my home in another life because I think if you had flown me here blindfolded and then put me out of the plane I would have recognised that sensation.

Spanish garden plant: a succulent in full flower in March.

My phone was out of battery like many of my air bnb guests when they arrive in Edinburgh, but I was pretty sure I’d find a charging point easily at Valencia airport and I did. It was on the front surface of a broken bar and the Señora asked me if I wanted anything and accepted when I said no. This was quite a contrast to the Ryanair hostess who would only give me hot water if I paid for it!

Vegetable plot with the Sierra Calderona in the background covered in trees.

In fact I was so hungry that I did have a decaff mini cup in a while – black with sugar, something I never do at home – and it hit the spot as I looked to see if my hostess had left me a message.

Almond blossom with a few nuts from last season.

Georgie happily met me soon afterwards which allowed us to start to catch up on news since I visited to house-sit in July 2017. Lots has happened since then, so we sat up until midnight over the vino rojo and delicious Spanish/Thai curry she had prepared for us.

I slept well, amazed at how tired this virus was making me, but my chest was clearing the more I rested (KD supports LU of course in Chinese Medicine), and my eyeballs were not quite as sore when I moved them. This illness has an emotional cause which has given me quite a shock – I am not sure I have ever had one like it but it is definitely a sign that I am now letting go and moving on.

I woke to the chickens clearing their throats outside my window, and the sun was shining on the surrounding Sierra Calderona.

Later G took me round and updated me on the house and menagerie before she left me in charge of the house. She showed me how to feed Severus Snake: ugh! Not easy to watch or contemplate doing myself, given I am a vegetarian and it involves a rat as food.

The new puppy bought me a goldfish she had fished out earlier, presumably as a welcome present.

My daily walk was for strengthening (preparation for the camino in 10 days time), to try out my new trousers, and reacquaint myself with the gorgeous area where I am house-sitting.

I have visited here in December and July, but this is a different landscape again.

Previous Olocau blog 1 and 2.

What a wonderful place this is! At ground level there is some green grass (all was of course dry in July 2017) with violets, clear water, and jumpy insects which look like little logs for the second they are still.

Spring water for irrigation and dogs to bathe in.

At eye level flutter cabbage whites and flies with whirring wings. There is straggly rosemary with lilac flowers, scratchy silver bushes left over from last year, and egg-yolk yellow broom (see photo above).

The first half of the walk along Les Macollades (a route with ancient olive trees and irrigation channels for the vegetable and fruit plots) was amidst almond blossom orchards and orange groves. I picked up two windfalls and juiced them when I got back to boost my immune system – delicious.

Towering above me were the rosy hued crags, some of their tops softened by trees in full leaf, and some jagged and sharply pointing heaven-wards. I taught myself this landscape last year to avoid more calamities of the getting lost variety, and thankfully my Body Mind remembered it well. This time the dogs were perfectly behaved – maybe Pollo and Louis recognised me too.