I was lying here dozing away to my podcast of ‘War and Peace’; opening my eyes I gazed out on the snowy wastes of Mother Russia. It took a number of seconds for my addled brain to remember that I was not in 19th century Russia but 21st century Spain as the landscape had me totally fooled. Yes, after several weeks of wonderfully warm sunny weather, winter had hit central Spain with a vengeance.
You’ll remember that we had decided to explore the parts of Spain where few people venture, driving up the little white roads to Santander. These little white roads are often marked green on our Michelin map, so they are picturesque. It also invariably means mountainous, hold that thought.
We had no idea when we set off that the weather would be so severe but then I don’t think the Spanish knew it either. The weather has been the worst for many years. Funny that, VM goes abroad in the winter and bad weather hits, think frozen cactus in Texas 2013, ruined orange crop in Florida 2001, yes I was there. So Spain 2015, motorways paralysed by snow for the first time in their history (could be a new road, let’s remember the Spanish press likes to exaggerate too).
Let’s wind the clock back to last Saturday when we were happily trundling along after leaving Valencia where the wind was hot and dry.
The first sign we had that the weather was deteriorating was a policeman blocking the road we wanted to take, telling us that there was too much ice and snow, so we took another road and ended up almost where we wanted to be. It was cold and icy and so it continued, with freezing cold winds and light snow for several days. Well, at least it gave us the chance to acclimatise and give Lottie a chance to show how well she could manage…We wended our way through some pretty challenging mountain passes and I began to realise why Land Rovers are held in such affection, as we trundled into town. They must have been the only vehicles seen in remote areas for many years, no wonder they are popular.
Although Land Rovers are really capable vehicles, like other cars, they cannot get out of 3′ ditches, so when faced by a recalcitrant Spaniard going in the opposite direction on a narrow road, you have to stand your ground. A bit like my local high street on a Saturday morning. Spanish drivers take a bit of getting used to, think conquistadors and you will get the idea. We had some nerve racking walks along roads without footpaths which almost involved us hurling ourselves into the bushes at the side of the road with shrieks of despair. Think danger as a pedestrian in Spain or even death. Similarly, trying to work out which way they are going at roundabouts is equally exciting as they swan around the roundabout in the outside lane randomly exiting when they feel like it and with no indication….on the other hand they don’t seem to get irate nor do they bully you.
It was fun going through the Spanish interior, even with the bad weather and I mean that most sincerely, from the bottom of my heart; we saw some fabulous scenery: hugely deep limestone ravines with massive birds of prey hovering overhead. I’m sorry I have no idea what they were without my Spotter’s Guide to Birds of the Iberian Peninsula….golden eagles perhaps? We visited numerous little villages and towns tucked away in the mountains, such as Sos del Rey Catolico, where Ferdinand of Aragon was born. Some of these towns seemed unchanged since mediaeval times, particularly the more remote ones and we saw so many hilltop castles that I lost count. Most of the time we did wild camping and saw virtually no one, it was wonderfully quiet and peaceful, except when the wind started to blow at night…and of course there was always a dog somewhere barking…but we were warm and cosy and we always had ear plugs to hand. Travelling this way, one realises what a huge country Spain is, how many mountains it has (!) and how empty much of it is.
And so we arrived in Navarre, we visited the strange national park called Bardenas Reales which looks like some Wild West landscape, see photo if I remember. Here it was dry and sunny but still freezing cold. On we went, deeper into Navarre and bought wine from a lady who literally lived above the shop, which was in fact a garage. I was fascinated by the way she trilled her ‘r’s. She professed herself ‘encantada’ by our meeting, so we had a mutual appreciation society going on there. We’d been stopped on the main road, yes main road, by the traffic police who weighed our van. We were just on the limit of our allowed weight, so we had to unload some of our water before loading up the wine. Hmmm, where have I heard that before, water into wine…?
By this time we were beginning to need a campsite to do the laundry, have a proper shower, wash hair etc etc you get the picture. Helas, all the campsites were closed because of the bad weather, so we dragged around with our washing from site to site, without success. So on to a stopover point at the Basque capital of Vitoria Gastez, complete with very strange language full of ‘k’s and ‘x’s and ‘z’s. The road there was the worst yet as we had to go over yet another pass which was rapidly becoming impassable, if you see what I mean. VG itself was covered with many inches of snow and as we parked, it started coming down even more thickly and so it continued. In the morning it must have been about a foot deep. Good fun but there is a limit. Time to go.
So here we are back at the northern coast, near Santander waiting to catch the ferry. It’s horribly wet and cold. We had hail bouncing off the roof all night! There are places we would like to come back to as they have simply been too cold to visit but we are coming home early as it’s pointless staying any longer. We’ve decided to beat a retreat. We’ve had a great time. I doubt whether Napoleon said the same in 1812, so I’ll get back to my War and Peace on the ferry and end the story there.