When we moved to Spain, almost 6 years ago, we had always intended to be away during the hottest months of June, July and August in the motorhome, somewhere cooler. But as it is with most things in life, best laid plans and all that. This year, we finally got away at the end of June….
Our first summer here we were obliged to stay put as we had no residency and also many Covid restrictions were still in place.
The second summer we escaped to Sweden when Richard and Aoife were working in Stockholm. The Crompton sod’s law rule applied of course and our arrival coincided with a sweltering heatwave, yes, in Sweden! On top of that we both got Covid and then a pilots’ strike delayed our return for an extra week. The dog sitter had to leave and our wonderful neighbour, Kate stepped into the breach by feeding the three hounds, letting them in and out and keeping them company till we got back.
Third summer we actually achieved what we had planned and got up to Asturias and Galicia, met up with friends near Santiago de Compostella and all was going well until Poco became ill and needed an operation. At the time we still had Belle so two whippets and a Poco in a collar of shame was more than a bit too much so we came home early, at the beginning of August.
Fourth summer, well that was fairly straightforward if you don’t count the breakdowns. We headed up to France again to spend time with R and A, meandered into Germany to “do” the Romantische Strasse, after which we returned to France, met friends in Paris, returned briefly to the Alps, then watched a stage of the Tour de France in the Pyrenees. It was after this that we had a succession of breakdowns which have been well documented along the way in previous blogs. We did, however, escape much of the heat.
Last year we swapped the heat for rain and drizzle on our Irish trip. We had intended to stay north when we got back to mainland Spain but the fridge had other ideas in that it packed up on the way to Ireland and we limped around with a 12 volt coolbox. We had it “fixed” in Ireland but the fix didn’t last so we came home at the end of July. But not before I got a call from my niece and nephew telling me that my sister had had a fall and was very poorly in hospital in Peterborough. So we hastily arranged for me to fly to Luton from Dublin for a couple of days to visit her, returning just in time to catch the ferry back to Santander. Once we got home, we had a new burner fitted to the fridge and it behaved itself for a few short breaks away during the autumn.
So that brings us on to this summer, suffice it to say we had both lost confidence in our beloved Hymer and when it failed its MOT (Here in Spain called the ITV) we decided enough was enough, took the plunge and now have a Challenger, a French made model which we are very pleased with. We got it at the end of June and as soon as I had attended a series of medical appointments which were delaying us anyway, we finally set off. We hot footed it to the French Alps to meet the family again in time for Nigel’s birthday on 1st July and then we were intending to cross the Pyrenees and while away August and September in northern Spain.
Except again, we have come home, we didn’t even make it to the end of July this time, not because of breakdowns but because of the weather! We arrived in France at the height of the recent heatwave, we drove up high in the mountains for several days where the temperatures were slightly lower and there was a gentle breeze most days but even so, the dogs were struggling, we couldn’t walk them because the ground was so hot and we could see no end to the situation for the next couple of weeks. It would have been a long, difficult and uncomfortable journey across Spain from east to west and then along the coast to find cooler weather, the temperatures were in the mid 30’s for the next several weeks it seemed, everywhere we needed to be.
(remember, Mandy and Bill??)
So, the pool and air con at home became the very tempting alternative. In three long day’s driving, here we are. We are hoping to get away again if and when the temps are more amenable in northern Spain. Our couple of weeks in France gave us a good idea of how everything works in the new van and where things could be better stowed. We have had to cut our payload considerably and when we were stocking it we were weighing everything down to the last teaspoon and pair of knickers in order to stay within our weight limit. I didn’t do much cooking partly because it was so hot and partly because we were looked after by Richard and Aoife in Samoëns and also ate out with them a couple of times. But at least we had a shakedown tour in it and found it very comfortable.
As we were going to be home for a couple of weeks at least, we got Poco fitted in at the vets last Monday for a dental. He has had foul breath for some time, at first pointed out by visitors. Both of us suffered a certain amount of loss of the sense of smell after Covid so we hadn’t really noticed but recently there was no denying he had a problem. Poor little chap needed 8 teeth to be removed. In over 50 years of owning dogs he is the first to have to have teeth removed but our vet said it is more common in small dogs. Also he was a rescue and we have no idea about his puppyhood nutrition or circumstances in his early life. As our friend Philippa eloquently put it, “His pain is back seat passenger’s gain.” (She has sat in the back of the car with him on several occasions and is always glad to get out!). Apparently Spanish children leave their fallen teeth out for the Tooth Rat…doesn’t have quite the same ring as a Tooth Fairy does it?
That’s all for now,
sometimes we need our coats on!
Hasta Luego Todos