128. - The road trip - Spain - France - Italy

We're not ones to visit big cities. Having the car, we've been able to stay at some wonderful pet sits that wouldn't otherwise have been accessible. This blog entry details our road trip from Seville to the French Alps.

Hornachuelos, Spain

Flying from Majorca to Seville was, thankfully, a quick trip as it had the least amount of legroom we'd ever encountered on a flight. We picked up the car and drove to our accommodation which was just over an hour away in what we thought was a room in a hotel situated in a national park near the small village of Hornachuelos. 

This room was to have overlooked the terrain, with clothes washing facilities, the options of an evening meal in the restaurant and breakfast in the morning. 

When we arrived at what we thought was an abandoned building, we confirmed the address. The doors were locked with no one around to greet us, even though we'd arranged an arrival time. I messaged the owner via Booking.com, with no response. Max found a phone number on one of the doors and even though the person on the other end couldn't speak English, I managed to explain, spoken in the most torturous Spanish ever bestowed upon a Spaniard, that we'd arrived.

A young girl drove up, who also had no English.  She gave us keys, pointed to the room and started to leave. We asked about dinner and she said the hotel isn't open during the week, so no dinner and no breakfast. Max asked if there were any restaurants open and again, the answer was no. 

She gave us directions to a local supermarket so we could at least get supplies for dinner and breakfast. Entering the accommodation we realised there was no table, no kettle, no stove, no crockery and no cutlery. As it was getting late, we improvised with supermarket finger food and got an early night as we had a 300km trip the next day.

We were woken by two busloads of children who'd arrived to visit the 'National Park'. The bus conveniently pulled up and idled just outside our window, which ended up a great motivator to get to our next destination. After a second improvised meal, sans accoutrements, we hit the road.  Not surprisingly, I forgot to take pictures...

Almagro, Spain

Driving into Almagro, we were understandably hesitant as to what to expect after the previous day's experience. To our relief, it was a beautiful hotel with professional, friendly staff.

A walk around the corner took us to the town square where we had our first Spanish Sangria. Inadvertently Max had ordered us a litre each. Oh well...

A quick walk across the square for a bite to eat.  The food was ordinary, but the atmosphere made up for it.

Back on the road for another 300+ km drive and working our way across to the north-east of Spain. Passing endless olive groves and silhouette images of bulls, I thought European countries had high population densities scattered throughout the countryside, but no. We could drive for over 100km only seeing the odd dwelling nestled in the hills.  The olive trees looked somewhat tortured, possibly just old and well adapted to harsh summers. 

Talayuelas, Spain

Next stop was this quirky 17th-century guest house in Talayuelas.  

We had to ring the host to open up as there was no one on site. In fact, there was no one in the village and we felt we stumbled on an abandoned movie set! 

It was late afternoon, and there was nowhere to get a bite to eat except from a local store, which hadn't opened yet due to being siesta time. There was a local bar, however, food wasn't served until the weekend. There were a couple of guys out the front smoking cigarettes with their eyes glued on us as we walked by. Somewhat disconcerting, it felt like we were strangers coming into town in an old western movie. The only thing missing was the tumbleweeds.

We went to the local service station that allegedly had a cafe. I walked past a group of guys sitting outside and into the cafe where there was no one around. I walked back outside to attract their attention, one looked at the UK registration of the car and continued, like the others, to ignore me. Where the hell were we?

Once the local store opened, we got some supplies and headed back to the accommodation, which I must say was very comfortable. We had a separate lounge room with a wood heater, which, once lit, provided just the right atmosphere for a glass of the local brew.

High security in 17th-century guest houses - This is the locking system for the front door. 

Funny how we haven't encountered bugs in the UK or France. They must all have emigrated to Spain!

St Pol de Mar, Spain

Next stop was St Pol de Mar, a coastal village on the Spanish side of the border. We stayed in a large hotel complex with great views from our room and being as comfy as it was, we decided to book an extra night to break up the trip.

There wasn't much to the town itself, so we ate in the hotel with the odd refreshment (sangria), a walk into the local village and more Sangria.  We treated ourselves to a five-course set menu, which was fabulous, and went to bed content.

A view from the room pre-dawn.

The local beach.

Saint Privat, France

Next stop - Saint Privat, France - a 4.5 hour drive in a north-east.

We decided to spend two nights here just to get a break from the constant driving. (Max: That's the royal "we". I haven't driven at all!). The roads have been great, but I still get weary as I'm constantly on alert in remaining on the correct side of the road and dealing with local traffic and road rules. 

The road coming into the village was easy on the eye, but precarious on some of the hairpin bends.  Upon arrival, we had to contact the host to get the key. We met him out the front of the property and found the place to be comfy enough except, being a Sunday, there was nowhere to get a meal or even buy food. 

The local food store was under renovation and even though it wasn't yet open for business, the host had a chat to the owner who let us buy a few bits to sort us out for the night. 

Next day, I drove through the winding roads to the supermarket 15 km away, got to the checkout and realised my 'tap on' payment function on my phone didn't work and had forgotten my wallet containing the card. After explaining that I had to drive back to the accommodation to get my wallet, I drove back, and then drove back to the supermarket with Max for moral support, wallet and cash!

I knew the roads quite well by the time we got back. It has been amazing how many of these little villages/hamlets are so quiet as if, again, we've entered the Twilight Zone. I went for a walk around the place and encountered maybe three people who looked at me in bemusement.

Our accommodation. 

The road was on a lean, not the building.

Pics from the village. Everything felt very old.

Another major driving day to our next accommodation in Bordighera, Italy.

We had to head south to the coast and then drive east, even though we were on major highways, we still had to drive through Monaco and the Côte d'Azur. Awww. Shame.  🤣.  The views were spectacular and the bridges and tunnels made the driving smooth, and with no  hills or valleys to navigate, we literally drove across a level highway. Luxury!

Bordighera

Bordighera is on the north-west Italian coast, at the foothills of the Alps, and is not really a tourist town. It does cater for visitors, but seems to have its own life in the off-season.

Driving down the hill to the entrance to town.

Our room was conveniently on the main street. We were on the third floor.

 

The main bedroom

The Mediterranean was just a short walk away.

The local church.

As in Sicily, the Italians really know how to make the best hot chocolates. We had a daily fix at the cafe across the road from the hotel. 

Our Limoncello supplier. 

For those who are new to this Italian speciality, it is a lemon-based liqueur with a kick.

Barrels of the local brew.

Roddina

Three days later we made our way north to Roddina for 3 nights at a rural homestead. The views along the way were amazing. Given we were in the foothills of the Alps, the roads were excellent with bridges and tunnels making travel quick and safe.

All that serenity...

On arrival, we were greeted by the host's mother, who was kind enough to bake us a cake and fill the fridge with ham, cheese, milk, fresh apple juice and other yummies. 

How can you tell you're in an Italian house?  When one coffee pot is not enough!

The rustic but comfortable residence. We have the ground floor.

Some arty shots.

So from here we go to a last-minute pet sit booking in the French Alps near the Swiss border.

The map shows where we've driven to date on the European adventure (blue lines), plus the dotted lines show the two flights to Malta and Majorca, respectively.

Until next time, arrivederci!