Veruela

Heading east towards the Ebro river we followed a brown sign for Monasterio de Veruela. Set in peaceful Aragon countryside it’s a place I couldn’t do justice to describe. Just note the name and go there if you ever go driving through this area.
As we got closer to the Ebro Valley the thought of fishing seemed uncomfortable. How could we go there and see Heiko (our guide) and fish so close to the area we’d shared a family holiday, possibly one of the best we’ve had – nah. Resetting the SatNav we headed north, through the middle of the Pyrenees, up through central France and a few days later a smooth ferry crossing to Dover. After 5 weeks home felt right so here we are. Hasta Luego.

Valladolid

Seeing Amy after 4 weeks was a joy. She came with John, Chris and Bethan and together we explored Valladolid, which came up trumps from low expectations. The city has a reputation as a centre of commerce but there’s more to it than that. The Vincci Frontaura hotel is a new build only 4 months old and took to heart my feeling that brown is the new black as all shades were on display. The staff were very varied, ranging from disinterested to most helpful so tripadvisor.co.uk will hear of this. The city has an old centre and new suburbs but has somehow managed to blend quite nicely rather than look nasty. Overall an interesting and varied contrast to our other stops.
In keeping with the earlier prediction Valladolid did indeed loose the fixture at home to Athletic (Bilbao) after falling behind to two early goals. They managed a fightback in the second half with a just penalty award converted, but were never quite good enough to share the points. The most exciting aspect however was before the game. Athletic fans from the basque country had invaded the Plaza Major and taken over the bars and singing for all they were worth. John and I joined them on a bus to the game and were treated to the full range of club songs, insulting the Policia and various dances that included bouncing the bus to its axles. We got chatting to some of them and they wanted ‘Kimi’ to win the Formula 1 as he liked beer and chased women which was, as they saw it, more in keeping with the values of a basque man than the down in the mouth Alonso who they didn’t like. I think I’m right in saying that he’s from Madrid and therefore they would not be well disposed to him even before taking his temperament into account. Also they appreciated that ‘Cesc’ Fabregas is indeed Fabulous and therefore for the bus journey and outside they stadium we were best of pals. I wished them Tiene Buenas Partido and off we went to our seats. The atmosphere was the best of the three games attended as about 5k had found there way into the ground and made loads of noise. The only problem with all the Spanish football is that it just doesn’t measure up to the standards of ‘the Arsenal’ and I am watching the best footy in the world already when at the Emirates.
Hasta Luego.

Rana de Salamanca

The frog story included a bum steer from the Sunday paper we read. The frog is on the Universidad not the Cathedral, eventually found it. Doesn’t look much like a frog to us. The University makes you feel it is a privilege to study there. An old tradition is to write your initials inside a V for Victory anywhere on the exterior walls upon graduation. Leaving ones mark like that is a posh equivalent of an ‘I was ere’ carving on a tree or bench. What mark does anyone leave on the world? What mark did Dave leave? What mark can we leave on his behalf? Together we raised over £5,300 for the Willow Foundation - is that it?
The Parador de Salamanca is a modern building with medieval details tastefully incorporated, the Parador de Zamora by contrast is a 15th Century renaissance palace steeped in history. We wanted to stay in a parador and now we’ve done two, both appealing for different reasons. Desayuno’s in both are brilliant; you can even have wine with breakfast! On now to Valladolid for a rendezvous with a beautiful woman – Hola, Buenas Dias Amy. Hasta Luego.

Carpa

From Salamanca, tracking the Rio Tormes west towards Portugal brings you to a big reservoir. Here we found an accessible expanse of water and I spotted carp a decent chuck from the bank. They spent the three hours until dusk taunting me and I didn’t manage to snag one. The afternoon was memorable for the bird of prey that was cruising over the lake that we’d love to identify (any twitchers out there?). Fork tail, reddy coloured breast, charcoal underside of wings with white patches in the centre and wing span of around 4 feet. The silence there was broken by a 700 strong herd of goats that we heard coming a long time before we actually saw them as a good proportion had big bells round their necks. We thought we were going to be mowed down by them as it so happened we were parked and sitting on one of the few patches of sort of grass that had grown where the reservoir level had dropped. We were surrounded for an hour and stared at by the goats, three dogs and a shepherd. One of the dogs chased a stray into the reservoir and the shepherd was screaming at the dog for nearly loosing the goat. He called off the dog and the goat swam back to land and rejoined the herd. The shepherd called the dog over, calmly lifted its leg and hit it’s underside so hard with his walking stick it flew out of his hand. The dog squealed in pain and ran away but it came back and kept a safe distance. A working dog’s life out here is a hard one. Hasta Luego.

Salamanca

Avila to Salamanca was as dull as the route to Avila from Toledo was interesting. The main task was to avoid head on collisions with drivers overtaking when they couldn’t be sure of the road ahead. Salamanca is a gem of a city and we’ve installed ourselves in the Parador de Salamanca. The cathedral has incredibly detailed carvings including a skull with a baby frog on it’s head that if viewed brings good luck. We couldn’t find the frog but have brought you an example of the detailed characters that adorn the exterior. Note the exquisite detail in the child that follows a previous theme. Back in Avila the TV news showed footage of celebrations of Saint Teresa that included a Bull fight. One of the matadors ‘Chucu’ has had his skewered by a lively bull and is currently in grave trouble in hospital.
Before we left Avila we visited a monastery and church that contained a monument to Juan (Prince of Asturias) the son of Isabella I and Ferdinand where Lesley shed a tear for him. He died at 19 in Salamanca and would have been King of Spain after the so-called Catholic Monarchs. They abandoned their home that they had been building for ten years after his death. Isabella went on to initiate the Inquisition and one of their daughters was Catherine of Aragon who became Henry 8th’s first wife.
Located a friendly fishing tackle shop and found out I needed a licence to fish from the town hall, then having obtained the licence, where to go to pay the fee (8.5 euro’s) and obtain the fecha (stamp) to validate it! It’s good for one year in all of Castilla y Leon. Off we go in search of carpa. Hasta Luego.

Black cows with horns

The road to Avila. The drive up was a treat in it’s own right as the Sierra de Gredos provided at first pine forests then a magnificent reservoir formed by a dam in a valley (Embalse de Burguillo) where apparently the carp go to 40kg’s. Forests turn to rolling brown fields then suddenly before Avila the fields contained, as Lesley said excitedly ‘black cows with horns!’
Avila is a sort of mini-Toledo without the river but with the perimeter wall. Saint Teresa lived and died here and she is joint patron saint of Espana. This weekend is a big celebration of her life. We ended up in the former Bishop of Avila’s palace that was a lavish overnight stop with the best breakfast to date. Also staying here was Fito (Fito who? big rock star in Spain). We later learned he was putting on a gig in the evening just down the road. Young girls started screaming as we left the hotel for our evening meal, it was for Fito one step behind us heading for his blacked out motor to take him to the arena.
Back to Teresa, her ring finger complete with ring was removed when she died and sealed in a vacuum jar. So naturally the photo should be of her withered finger but unfortunately photo’s are not permitted so Boris the Bull, our mascot, makes the page.
Hasta Luego.

Toledo

(picture: vista across city from our hotel window)
Early indications were confirmed the further we got through Friday, Toledo is a super city. Lots of walking done and sights seen we found a specialist fish restaurant (La Naviera, C/. de la Campana) at about 9:15. Now if you read all the books Spanish people don’t even think about eating until 10 - cobblers! The place was rammed and we took the chance of waiting our turn on a list. After supping beers and wine and keeping an eye on the list for progress (lots of Madrilanos waiting, plus us) we were duly seated in turn after an hour. No favouritism given, completely fair and above board, despite a few trying it on with the staff. The staff were proverbial blue arse flies & actually lovely, we had a very good meal of Gambons, Dorada and Salmon. We felt really Spanish eating, what for us, is so late. After coffee, some strange yellow liquor (gratis), we headed out by midnight to crash Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz 3am Cathedral Bells ringing ?! zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz7am a sodding cacophony of bells! Zzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…Desayuno & a river runs round it.
Hasta Luego.

Castilla-La Mancha

Leaving the moon landscape above Murcia we headed north into the flat flat flat lands of Don Quixote’s La Mancha. Head scratching seemed the order of the day for the men in the fields when looking at a patch of flat earth that looked like any other patch of flat earth, at least to our obviously untrained eye.
At Consuegra a mass of rock and earth is pushed up into a 500m high ridge. On top of which are a castle and a collection of whitewashed windmills, it had to be climbed and captured by the official photographer of our tour (Lesley) using the self-timer feature and a handy post.
Later, we found Toledo, bounded on three sides by the Rio Tajo and the old walled city contained within. After finding parking (a ‘mission’ as Dave would say) and a Hotel we wandered the narrow streets and found an inviting and apparently traditional Syrian Restaurant (La Casa de Damasco). Another 1st, never eaten Syrian before, the Damasco provided tasty and exciting food with music to match. I think we’re going to like Toledo. Hasta Luego.

Murcia

Heading southwest we travelled through a moon landscape that emerged as we headed into Murcia. Looking around us we noticed Brits that presumably look miserable in the UK looking equally miserable in the sun. They could do with reading Alain de Bottain’s The Art of Travel. You act upon your dream but unfortunately ‘take yourself with you’.

Murcia old town is quaint, low rise and old. The locals were friendly and we wandered into the Cathedral on Sunday evening during service. A fair amount of fire and brimstone was being delivered judging the tone and volume of delivery from the priest. The noticeable thing about the congregation was the range of age just like at the Mestalla. The Cathedral seemed particularly opulent, grand and impressive. Wandering further on through the pretty streets we were reminded of Lloyds of London with the plumbing on the outside. The Murcian equivalent has the furniture on the outside.

We also haven’t noticed a single drunk on our trip so far, although plenty of alcohol appears to be consumed by all. Think we’ll join them, Hasta Luego.

Stormy Mestalla

Our last night in Valencia was with 45,000 others at the home of Valencia C.F. (3rd in La Liga) for the visit of R.C.D. Espanyol (6th). After exploring the old town we took our seats on the steepest and highest seating I think I’ve ever sat in. We both felt weird being so high up. Espanyol’s kit was assessed as ‘the worst kit I’ve ever seen’ by Lesley. The salmon or possibly pink strip with dark blue hoops was indeed shocking. They did better at the football, quickly equalising after an early-headed goal by Valencia. They also hit the post & crocked Valencia’s main striker David Villa who limped off after 15mins following a heavy challenge. Half time 1-1 & entertainment was provided by a 100 strong brass band that stopped at various points round the pitch to be warmly applauded by the home fans. The other sport of the night was making paper airplanes from the free (yes free!) match programmes and seeing who could send their effort high into the night sky and get it furthest down the pitch (we were above the north goal) everyone was highly entertained by watching origami at it’s best. Several must have been piloted by kamikaze paper pilots who dive-bombed into the tiers below, only a few actually making the pitch. Big cheers went up for the best efforts that actually cleared the six yard box and javelined into the turf. Some of these cheers were a bit choked as of course this being Spanish football and the Saturday night kick-off being 10pm, mouths were full from bocadillo’s brought in aluminium foil that were miraculously produced by all on the half-time whistle.
In the second half Espanyol scored a break away goal beneath us with 10 minutes to go and the 30 away fans even higher up to our left went wild. The aficionado in blue and white matador striped outfit (home kit colours) with flag and beret looked particularly happy. Valencia in truth were pretty poor in attack without Villa and despite frantic attempts from Morientes and others they never looked like scoring – ‘tormenta de mestalla’ said Marca. The fans were pretty miffed but streamed out with a song. Valladolid (our next possible match) had better watch out, if we come see you play (versus Athletic Bilbao on the 21st Oct) you may struggle at home, we are 2 from 2 so far.
Hasta Luego.

Ocho meses este dias (eight months this day)

Changes (Dirty South Remix)

Changes in my life
I won’t leave you behind
Changes in my life
You will see in time
Changes in my life
You’re always on my mind
Changes in my life
I got you by my side

There’s so many changes in my life
I don’t know if it’s wrong or if it’s right
And I want you, want you by my side
Everything is goin’ to be alright

Changes in my life
I won’t leave you behind
Changes in my life
You will see in time
Changes in my life
You’re always on my mind
Changes in my life
I got you, I got you, I got you by my side.

Hasta Luego Dave x

Fabregas in Valencia

Today it is raining, not just lightly but torrential, with rolling thunder and lightning. After getting caught out during our morning walk to the paper shop (for a copy of Marca, the daily sports paper), the bread shop (donuts & barra [small crusty baguettes]) and Toni’s bar (café con leche). We are now warm and dry in our most comfortable villa on the side of a hill in the Xalo / Jalon Valley.
Marca has caused my mind to drift back to the arrival of Bergkamp in 1995. The year when my name came up on the waiting list and I picked seats for Dave and me in the family enclosure at Highbury. Arsenal (Bruce Rioch the manager just before Wenger arrived – Arsene who?) paid £7.5m for the 26-year-old. This just before Newcastle paid £6m for Les Ferdinand & Liverpool £8.5m for dogger Stan Collymore! Bergkamp came to life under Wenger and through his career scored 121 goals in 424 games. Dennis was the best for us and we both had the redcurrant commemorative shirt printed up with no. 10. We bought Dave’s for his 19th birthday with HUSSEY across the back. Mine was a 45th Birthday gift from Amy, Dave and Jon G with Mr HUSSEY. During the Bergkamp era I said to Dave that he didn’t realise what an amazing period he was witnessing as a fan during his teens. I’d seen some real boring boring Arsenal but Dave lived through a golden era of silverware and silky passing football watching a sublime Bergkamp – happy days together.
On Wednesday (3rd Oct), like Chelsea, we visited Valencia. They without ‘el despidido’ ('the sacked one' as Levante called Mourinho), us without a map. However, we managed to find Fabregas everywhere! I assume this must be the gas company rather than some tribute to our most fantastico Fabregas who gets lots of coverage in the Spanish press in his exploits for ‘los gunners’. We love Fabregas; Lesley jumps out of her seat and has words to say if anyone dare tackle him too strongly. Very happy with last night’s away win in Bucharest with RvP getting the goal to give us 6 points from 2 games after he also got the winner on Saturday. Hope the hammers in ‘The Willy’ enjoyed that :-).
Anyway, enough for today, I need another café, hasta luego.

Nose mountain, mountain nose

Which is bigger? It’s a tough call. David inherited my, I’d like to think, ‘manly’ nose. Roman?, no, but a nose that is not a poor excuse for a nose, nor feminine in shape or size.
He visited me in my dreams (only the 3rd time since February 8th).
Not twenty year old Dave, but eight year old Dave (from the era of footy at Harlow Sportcentre, Arsenal away shirt with ‘HUSSEY’ printed on his back)
He was walking with me and I asked him “are you alright?”
He didn’t answer me. We kept walking side by side.
I turned, hugged him and then asked “do you know why I am crying?”
He half looked at me, a bashful look on his face and replied “ yes”.
Hasta Luego.

Mummy & Daddy List, muchas gracias Amy

Amy gave us a number of points to follow before we left.
We thought we’d share them, we’re trying to live up to them:
· Have fun
· Don’t be scared
· If things go wrong neva mind (Love is the most important fing)*
· Always shut the doors when going along
· Be adventurous
· Don’t be wary of everyone (some people r just nice)
· Watch out for suicidal jumpy fings when driving
· Explore and do things you haven’t done before (even if they scare you a little)
· Appreciate beauty in the world (ah!)
· NEVER WORRY ABOUT ME AND THINGS AT HOME! I AM FINE
· Don’t let pricky people get you down

* “nothing matters when you have love” David Michael Hussey Esq.

Hasta Luego.

Boris the Stud

Boris emigrated to Espana to have his way with senoritas and breed lots of little Boris’s - for money. The journey must have had an unfortunate effect because his libido has diminished to the point he can’t do it anymore. He’s not gay, he’s just not bovver’d!.
He now guards the motor and gives a warning WOOF should anyone approach.

Hasta luego.

..Run for the Sun

Prior to leaving Bilbao we visited the Guggenheim. It's one of those must see things.The atrium doesn't contain a single flat surface other than the floor and pumps visitors round the museum like a heart. We also discovered that Arsenal contributed to the creation of the "Matter of Time" exhibit on the ground floor in a room whose design inspiration was a carp. The carp in question was caught and observed in the architect's bath. So, there you have it, fishing and football integral to a contemporary masterpiece. The carp also contributed to the titanium surface of large parts of the Guggenheim (scales like the carp) and also to sustaining the architect (he ate the carp, bastardo!).
El Sardinero (one of the lovely beach areas of Santander) provided our base after continuing west along the coast. Tickets duly purchased, we bowled up to the Campos de Sport del Sardinero for the visit of Villareal to Racing Santander. We supported Racing (pronounced RaThing) against Villareal who have ex-Arsenal jogadores Pascal Cygan and Super Bobby Pires. Bobby started on the bench while Cygan kept out Racing who fell behind to Villareal goal against the run of play. They were then let down by a Ref who sent off a Racing player for an innocuous challenge (El Dairio later described it as an 'expulcion inexplicable' I'd have to agree). The fans went mad and they variously described the Ref, but 'puta madre' seemed the favourite. Pires took advantage after coming on and set up Rossi to score. Our first La Liga game was good fun even though our adopted team for the night went down 0-2.
The following morning (Thursday) we checked out at noon and decided on a run for the sun. Even though our intended route was further west into Galicia the need to warm our bones won out. The run south through the Picos de Europa was spectacular and the contrast of Cantabria (wet & green) to the rolling Sierra's of Castille y Leon (sun dried brown) were marked. The journey brought about our 1st contact with the Guardia Civil. We were pulled over at a roadblock and I was asked to switch off and get out of the car. Asked for documentation I clarified " Para mi O para vehiculos?". "Dos" he replied. At that point I thought we were going to get a good going over. Documentation duly supplied and in order, pleasantries exchanged, we were on our way. I even got a friendly pat on the shoulder! I must say I was pretty pleased as I conducted the conversation purely in espanyol and was a little apprehensive about how it could have gone, as he was well stroppy at the outset. But I think I won him over enough to keep it cool and uneventful. Besides which, they had an easy target in a bunch of pikey workers in a wreck of a truck to keep them busy! Later, we dropped into Alcala de Henares (birthplace of Catherine of Aragon) northwest of Madrid and then wankel'd (inventor of the rotary engine) our way southwest. By midnight we reached our destination in the hills above Valencia. Galicia will have to wait; there are clear skies and some sun to be worshipped.
Hasta luego.

24th September, 2.35 'Daves'

Heading west in search of Ermita San Juan de Gaztelugatxe we weaved our way along some spectacular coastline from San Sebastien. The weather gradually deteriorated the further west we got along the Vasco. So much so that by the time we'd seen SJ de G and found a bed for the night in the Negurbi district of Bilbao we were experiencing a cross between 'Perfect Storm' (Hussey rather than Clooney as Captain of the vessel) and 'The Fog'. Not pretty.
As well as a new weather front moving in, today brought another first. That being my first birthday without Dave. Lesley has already had hers and now its my turn. Since David's day in February anyone's age, in our minds, has been recalibrated to a 'Dave'. 1 Dave = 20 yrs. So i'm 2.35 Daves today. Somehow it makes more sense to measure meaningful chunks of time in this way. Not, minutes here or there, like the Nick Hornby's 'About a boy' where floppy haired plonker plays the lead role and measures everything in units of half-hours. But serious life chunks with lots of days and nights.
But, este dias, we've taken pleasure in small things. The Ultra Sociedad owner of Bar Campus in San Sebastien who let us practice our Espanyol on him and open his WiFi network for our laptop, the dog who adopted us at SJ de G, the smiley OAP who waved us on the Bilbao Metro this evening and the friendly staff at our agreeable lunch break in deepest Basque country. But as a birthday? well, to be speak plainly - mucho ruido y pocas nueces (a lot of noise but few walnuts).
Hasta Luego.

Un buen par de Cojones (A real pair of balls)

So Coleman's bleatings must have made more sense that expected as Sociedad won comfortably 2-1. We saw some of the game in an ultra Sociedad cafe in San Sebastien (Campus Bar) near our accomodation in the private college that lets rooms when the students are away (Collegio Major de la Olarain). Apparently politicians etc pay Euro 20k per annum for their sprogs to attend.

Continuing the Cojones theme we have received a learned contribution from a reader which explains the conundrum of the 'cojones', not sure about the last bit though.
"It was once explained to me that continental men (apparently) have bigger ones than english men, so therefore after having them squashed in a confined driving/sitting position for a long time, they need 'rearranging'! To the untrained eye this may appear as crude scratching, rather than the delicate task of 'sortin' the family jewels. (aka the brooch and earrings). So Col', I think it falls to you now to show those greasy garlic munchers that english blokes are equally, if not better equipped to do a bit o' sortin of their own!
GO ON COL', DO IT FOR ENGLAND!"

On the beach yesterday a local brazenly strode down the beach with kiddies and families in their sunday best on the beach he was totally starkers.....Un buen par de Cojones!

Hasta Luego as we leave San Sebastien on the next leg.

Espana-san sebastian

From tours we picked up the rn10 and drove too far in one day after a couple of failed attempts to find accommodation. Tom tom took us to a hotel that turned out to be a girly dancing bar! So driving 550 km in one day we ended up at the arcachon basin beyond bordeaux. Checked into a trendy hotel with fabric wallpaper, muted colours and pool with palm trees. In this oasis we satisfied our need for wine with a top drawer bottle of fleurie by the pool as the heavens opened. Following breakfast we found the sea and local fisherman along with industrial quantities of oysters. Decided to go for san sebastien and crossed into spain just as 'changes' came up on the cd changer. Dave is never far from our thoughts and he even managed to get his top tune on as we approached the start of the tour of espana. Bed secured some well earned tapas and cerveza has now been consumed and our first espanyol hablo'd. Apparently richard gere arrived today for the film festival which explains the difficulty finding a room. Also real sociedad were at home but we couldn't make kick off. Anyway they are managed by ex fulham boss chris coleman who talks welsh so the team can't know what he's waffling about (sheep boyo yacky da sheep). We'll have to try for racing santander who are just along the coast and in la liga. Hasta luego.
_____________________________
Sent from my phone using flurry - Get free mobile email and news at: http://www.flurry.com

In the beginning...

..there was a red dragon (Mazda RX-8) and it flew to France. Well, more like it bounced its way over to Boulogne from Dover. The crossing was very rough on the Speedferry (catamaran come ship) and regulars said it was the roughest crossing they'd ever been on! Atleast it was only 55mins so it wasn't too long to suffer. The thought of coming back the same way seems less appealing, anyway that's a long way off yet so we'll dismiss that thought.
The lead up to today was most auspicious, Arsenal beat the Spuds 3-1 at 'The Lane', then followed that up with a 3-0 win over Sevilla (we enjoyed very much at the Emirates last night) and this morning Mourinho leaves Chelsea! All good.
After the dodgy crossing everything went well again. We cruised along through Abbeyville, Rouen and then decided to find a room somewhere north of Le Mans. The Tom Tom with European maps came up trumps as I discovered while trying out options at a service station, that it will direct you to a local Motel/Hotel if you ask it - Voila, a Campanile near Alencon. Lesley observed at that same service stop that French truckers, in a show of solidarity with their English trucker pals display a propensity to scratch their bollocks in public! - why is that?
Anyway, TomTom directed us to a clean and reasonably priced Campanile and we checked into the last room, which was available for 61 Euro's plus a further 14 Euro's for breakfast for two. Not a bad start for our 1st day, oh and the Campanile has free Wi-Fi, result, 1st Blog of the trip concluded using it.
Hasta luego.

Emma in the morning sun, bloggin from my mobile phone

Emma in the morning sun
Originally uploaded by hussman60

This blog entry was created by sending a photo of Emma from my camera phone to the blog! Which i think you'll agree is a pretty smart way of getting a picture and text online. The actual method i settled on after some R&D was as follows:

1. Set-up Flurry on my phone (Java application from flurry.com that allows sending and receiving of email). This is using my Sony Ericsson K800i on Orange, although the network shouldn't matter for anyone else trying it.
2. Sending the email, with photo attached, to an inbound email address on Flickr.com. Flickr will store the photo in my account with the title as per the subject of the email. The body text of the email becomes the caption of the photo.
3. Flickr will, if you set it up, forward the email to your blog. Which as you know if you are reading this is on Blogger.com that again you have previously set-up an inbound email address on Blogger will write the email to your blog.
4. Finally, on Blogger you can tell it to send an email to notify an email address that a blog has been published. With yet another cunning twist i've set that up on my own domain to be an email list. That means every email address on the list gets notified that a new blog entry has been posted. (if you want to be on the list let us know)

If you hung in there and followed the process through you've done well. Especially if you are not a person who's spent any time with technology because it took me a few hours to put together a number of services to achieve the outcome i desired i.e. to write a blog using no more than my mobile phone. The final test will be once abroad and using my phone on a foreign network and it still works! Otherwise it'll all have been for nothing!

Regarding mobile phones, our UK phones will be turned off most of the time but we'll be letting you know of a local mobile no. when we have it. That means we'll be able to receive inbound calls without running up a huge Orange bill whilst away. As you most likely know a UK phone on a foreign network charges you to receive calls - but more of that later.

Hasta luego.

September 2004, Ebro Valley

daveamy
Originally uploaded by hussman60

So this is a picture from a previous trip to Catalunya. The River Ebro is in the background of this picture of Amy and Dave. The picture was taken on an lovely sunny day exploring, rather than my favourite pastime of fishing.

On one of our fishing days on this trip Dave caught his 1st Catfish and I caught a 101lb catfish in the same session. Dave remembered to bring our video camera on the holiday and out in the boat on the river with our guide Heiko. So, that capture was recorded by Dave while I struggled with the fish that bent the 6lb test curve rod to 90 degrees!

Of course my travel carp rods, reels etc. will be packed in the boot of the car for fishing on this trip. I've tracked down Heiko to another part of the Ebro valley and will seek him out for further fishy adventures. Hasta luego.

Tour of Spain, another gift from David

This blog has been set up to keep in touch with friends regarding Lesley and Colin's tour of Espana. Having experienced the joys of the Ebro Valley in Catalunya including the Catfish and Carp of the river along with the countryside and wildlife. The idea formed to extend our travels from the north east across to the north west and then beyond. Catalunya opened our eyes to the variety of terrain and culture that exists in Spain and we have visited and explored that area several times.

Because of the traumatic time we experienced in February where our time horizon was hour by hour. Over weeks and then months our view extended to a daily horizon. As that happened our minds could turn to thinking about what to do and how we might heal ourselves a little more. This adventure is so we can take ourselves away from the daily grind and consider what next. Our sadness has been difficult to cope with at times lately. It may not look that way at social occasions when the company of friends gives us relief from our loss and sometimes we can forget our sadness for an hour or two. But that sadness always comes along and finds us again.

David has somehow given us the kick up the backside to get going. An adventure was always one of the things on our list of 'things to do' in our lives and we've had such a shocking reminder of how short that time can be. It's something we said we would always do in our 40's and we'd better hurry up and do it as we're at the back end of that decade! As Dave would often say 'Do it!'. He would also say 'write it down', hence the blog.