Cricks & Ciaos in Conil

Travel and epics journeys aren’t always glamourous and golden coloured sand hotdog leg Facebook posted pictures. An honest depiction would have been me diarising the time I got really, really sick; but then I didn’t want to sound like a big Boo-Hoo in a Woohoo! part of the world. Nonetheless, nearing 100 days of venturing, there I was bedridden in Southern Spain. Continue reading

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Short Stories from Southern Spain

Before I begin, how the heck did I go over a whole month without posting a gosh darned thing? Had I stopped travelling? Had I disappeared off the face of the earth? Had I been eaten by a giant rabid rabbit? No, no and um… well, no. Quite simply it was a combination of snail’s pace (I want to punch the screen) internet, no internet, and some sneaking back to NZ (twice). Posting this, from July, simply seems like a lifetime ago; but I am undoubtedly looking forward to catching you up on the adventures in between. The frequency of posts will depend on whether Winnie the cat’s ass manages to stay out of my face, as I sit down and type. This, unfortunately, is what Mum’s new cat likes to do. Continue reading

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Surviving Breakdowns and Spanish Conversation

It really isn’t an NJ road trip without something ridiculous happening, as you know from what you may have already read. My drive back to Conil de la Frontera really was no exception.

It was one of those beautifully clear ‘I’m ready to go home’ days. Fi and I were well prepared, even though we were going to part ways that day. I drove the landscapes I’d carved through before, but this time there was no rain in sight. There was however still as much to think about on a seven plus hour journey, but it was enjoyable all the same. The countryside didn’t disappoint. Continue reading

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Stalking in Salamanca

Given that I was in the area, I thought that I should at least have a look at Salamanca; it was only a fifteen minute drive away. I think Fi was a bit lonely and keen for a spin, too. Out on the road, Fi and I got tooted at because we were driving at the speed limit and the old man behind us was not too keen on that. TomTom also joined the party and sent me around and around in circles, several times. By the time I got out, I was dizzy and ready for some exploring of this university city. Continue reading

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The Spanish Retreat

July is a big month for me. It hasn’t always been, but now it is; lurking with memories hiding behind closed doors. This July was especially hard. It was five years since Mr T had passed, but sometimes it still feels like it had happened yesterday. On my own and traveling, which I thought would never happen again, I decided to do something memorable, something special, something to mark the day. So I planned a trip to Salamanca, a place that had jumped out at me from the Spanish map when I first looked up where the heck Murcia was. Continue reading

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Kooky Cat Stories

I may have become a ‘Crazy Cat Lady’. As much as I have purported to dislike cats, I actually grew up with some very loving ones; including Henry who was my alarm clock for school when he would come into my room and bite my ankles. Continue reading

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Living the Spanish Dream

It was quite easy to slip into the southern Spanish lifestyle. Breakfasts were a relaxed introduction to the day, the late lunches signalled that siesta was not long after and dinner was at a time when I’d be going to bed, in New Zealand. The days were warm with the temperature rising into lovable summer highs and I was quite happy to fade in and out of the heat. I’m not the winter kind of girl.  Continue reading

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A Cross-Country Adventure, with Clio

Freedom had finally beckoned. I was behind the steering wheel of Clio on a long drive through Spain, from San Javier Aeropuerto to Conil de la Frontera. It was estimated to take around 7 hours, as Spanish Carmen the GPS had told me, after I re-routed when I exited the car hire company turning left instead of right. Continue reading

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How not to pick up a Hire Car

To me, the ultimate feeling of freedom comes from driving a car out in the open, especially in a foreign country when you are on the ‘wrong’ side of the road. I love the way it feels; taking control of your life with your hands on the steering wheel and singing at the top of your lungs until your voice cracks, until the point of coughing up a fur ball. Continue reading

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Stepping onto Spanish Soil & Losing it in Translation

Random stories have a habit of finding me. I’m not sure what that’s about. It’s like they are my shadow, waiting to appear when the sun’s out. You can’t escape the shadow; unless it clouds over, you hide in the shade, or it’s dark. But I always seem to be walking around in places where I need to put my sunglasses on. Spain was no different. I wasn’t immune to any NJisms there. Continue reading

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