The Louis Vuitton Cup

Valencia was amazing being Kiwi and what better way to start than this photo of the closing Ceremony... the parachutist came down from above the cup.. for little ol NZ!! Only the back of the team as we werent privileged enough to be at the front.. but still bloody damn close nevertheless.


I feel the Valencia set up was better than ours in NZ. The water taxis or aquabus as its called are all free. The go regularly from the North Base to the South Base and another one from the West Base to the East Base. They are about 30 feet long and carry about 20 people - nothing sophisticated but a quick and easy way of getting around in 30 degree heat.

The first day, we plonked ourselves down in front of a huge screen, too late to get a comfy sofa (which seemed to be filled up with Italians and you can always tell the Italian women from their outfits.. very upmarket!). We proceeded to watch the start of the race only to discover it changed from English prior to the race into Spanish. Hopeless. We moved on to a bar where we enjoyed a respite from the searing heat but alas the commentary on yet another big screen was in Spanish. I might add though.. even though the commentary was in Spanish it was the first time since I left NZ I had enjoyed a Chardonnay. Yes, their reds are great.. but if you fancy a Chardonnay or Sav be prepared to be disppointed!!

On the Wednesday we were slightly more organised and found the ´KiwiCamp´as it had been dubbed and still with the comfy sofas and bar the huge screen was in English AND it was inside out of the heat. A great place to be for the final race. We ventured out for a short time to the China Bar 4 stories up with a great view of the village and an English commentary. At the end of the race the huge contingent on NZers trapsed up the East side and plonked themselves along the edge of the pier to welcome the boys in. We were positioned right in front of the Louis Vuittion presentation stadium and right under the parachutists who brought the Cup down. Awesome is all I can say. We were a bit concerned they might land on us.. but no they were right on que landing in the middle of the stage! Hundreds of NZ flags (mainly of the Silver Fern variety I might add) and a great atmosphere where everyone spoke English of the NZ variety.. a novelty for us after 6 weeks listening to French, Portugese and Spanish. The ceremony didn't finsih till around 7.30 and the sun was still strong with temperatures still up in the mid 30's a day to remember for the rest of our lives.

Coraleen getting in one of the Aquabus'



Above right .. our boat being escorted in for the Louis Vuitton Ceremony. And bottom right.. another of the same.. being so patriotic our camers got a bit of a thrashing that day!!

Our star .. Molly.

Pictures of Molly as requested by many of you.. we do have a few at various stages...although dont rely on the order.. these internet cafes only have uploading instructions in Italian...

Left. Coraleen and I outside Jenny and Rays in Norwich before leaving for our big Adventure.. temperature about 17 degrees....

Below left... Vicki with Morella (Hilltop Town) Spain in background.. temperature about 32...

Above.. Molly, Vicki and Coraleen in Killkenny Southern Ireland.. temperature about 12 ...

Bottom.. waiting for ferry from Barcelona to Rome.. temp about 33....

Above... Molly and Coraleen in Delphi Valley North Western Ireland.. temperature about 10!

And another one in Delphi Valley, Ireland .. temperature about 12

Granada and the Alhambra

Hello...my turn to do update. Well we left Marbella and headed for Granada. The drive in was stunning as you drive thru the Sierra Nevada mountain range. Molly wasnt happy but the sights were amazing, with whole villages built into the side of the mountains. The temperatures vary hugely, with soaring temperatures in the summer and freezing thru the winter with lots of skiing. We arrived in Granada, and our Campground was literally 30 steps from the bus station. We got a motel as we were only going to be there for 2 nights and we had a bitch of a lady in reception who was particularly unhelpful. To gain entry into the Alhambra, you need tickets and they only sell 1500 per day and they only sell so many in advance. We arrived on a Friday and desperately wanted to visit on the Saturday but could only secure tickets for the Sunday...what to do..the other way is to go on the day and queue, so that was our only choice. We went up there on the Friday so we knew how to get there (no mean feat) and did some other sight seeing which was awesome as well as there is a whole town across from the Alhambra that is part of it and still inhabited today. Anyway, we were up at 6 on Saturday (a killer in itself when you have no deadlines and get up when you wake normally) and got the bus in and arrived at 7.30. The queue was already 300 metres long and it did nt open til 8.30. By the time they opened the ticket sales ( and there is only 1 person selling tickets!) the queue was a kilometre long. We made it in....and got the morning session as they split it into 2 sessions, but many didnt and you cant buy for the next day, Oh No...you have to go thru it all again. Now, for those of you that have no idea what the Alhambra is, then it is best you look it up on the internet as it is hard to explain but basically, it is a city within itself and is extremely old but different parts relate to different eras. It is well worth the visit as so many people do. There is so much stuff to write about this I dont want to bore you with all the details so here is the link for those who are interested... http://www.andalucia.com/cities/granada/alhamhistory.htm
Arriving exhausted back at the Motel (we stayed in the Motel part of the Camp ground) in 29 degree heat at 7.30pm we had to pack up ready to leave in the morning. We left the next day and enjoyed an equally interesting drive thru the remaining part of the Sierra Nevada mountain range on our way to our next stop...Alicante.
We arrived in Alicante late in the day, and instantly decided we didnt really like it so moved on to El Campello, a seaside town about 15 kms up the coast and found a nice Camp ground. We checked in and immediately were be friended by a couple of Spanish families that were camping next to our Cabin. All that can be said about this evening was they were extremely friendly, there was a lot drunk (by some more than others) and there was a single man amongst them and Vicki got to bed at 5 in the morning and rumour has it there was a nightclub involved.

We awoke to another beautiful day, and headed North to Valencia!!! We stopped at Benidorm on the way just to have a nosey as we had heard so much about this place which is so popular with the Brits...and then some. I can honestly say, I have never seen so many people fit on a beach in my life, and it isnt a small beach!!
We carried on up the coast and hit Valencia on the Monday afternoon, and it was the rest day for the Louis Vuitton Cup and we had 3 wins under our belt...










The above photo was taken in the beautiful garden area of the Alhambra and the other was taken up the top area of the Alhambra with Albicin in the background.

V

Photo above left is of Vicki in Albicin and the photo above is of me in another part of the Alhambra garden area.

Photo on left is of Vicki in Grenada with the Sierra nevada mountain range in the background. You cant see it but there was snow still on the top.

The Rock...

We knew this was going to be a 'fun' experience from the start when we couldnt find the main road into Gibralter and went via an Oil Refinery and a dirt road.



For those of you dont know Gibralter is a British Colony and therefore not Spanish which means.. oh yes.. passports are required to enter, which of course, I, Vicki, didnt have! Not to be disuaded we came up with a stunning plan. Coraleen would go in a few minutes before me with her NZ passport and I would follow using her British one.. fingers crossed we could make it work.



We didnt want to take Molly in so parked her just outside the 'border' which is more like a large gateway and off we trotted. Sure enough it worked.. we were in. Gibralter being extremely small with only the ROCK to its name we were surprised, to say the least, to have to walk across a runway before the actual town and after passport control and customs. There are 4 planes a day and this is the only runway... it seemed rather weird to walk across a runnway. The first thing we saw was a double decker bus headed for town. Given the heat.. yes it had already hotted up down here so we took the bus to town. Everthing was in English even the currency and they a Safeway... for those NZers this is just like a Foodtown. We were in heaven and managed to buy such rareities as vegemite, tins of salmon, vinegar and best of all for Coraleen books written in English. Gibralter is also a tax haven where cigarettes and alcohol are duty free. Silly me only bought one carton of cigarettes! But we did have baked beans on toast and bacon and eggs for lunch instead of Paella or Taps.. a delight to say the least.



As we only had a few hours we took a tourist taxi to the top of the Rock. In the rock are the WW2 tunnels which were excavated as a defence for the British Milirary during the 2nd WW. It was an amazing place, mainly English speaking, awesome views where the Med and Atlantic oceans meet and some unusual characters too I might add.



There are actually Apes sitting on the fences along the road to the top of the Rock and they will take food out of your hand and pose for a photo even! The tunnels themselves are worth a look and while there are some things which have been done for tourists and a bit tacky in general they are interesting. As we were walking through them we heard a voice 'Halt Who Goes There' animated of course although at first we didnt realise and I thought Coraleen was going to wet her pants.. she got a helluva fright.





View from the top of the Rock looking out to Morocco.





View from the Town Centre looking up to the top of the Rock.



Another view from part way up the Rock where the Med and Atlantic Oceans meet.

Coraleen at one of the lookout points in the Tunnels.

One of the tacky additions.. but I could never resist a man in a uniform!

And getting out was just as easy.. we walked out through passport control and customs and back to Molly who had sat all day waiting for us in the heat.

From here we cruised on up to Marbella where, really, we dont have a lot to report as we enjoyed three days of R and R relaxing on the beach. Although in saying that we did manage to buy 5 copy CD's on the beach and Coraleen was asked to go back to his house as he was sure she was desperate for sex being away from her husband for so long!! And all this was conveyed despite the language barrier!! They are definitely wordly con men in their element.. but no match for us Kiwi gals :-)

Conil and Cadiz

I can´t say there was anything exciting about this place. We had planned to spend a day in Cadiz but there was no transport and we cant take Molly into those big cities, firstly the streets are far too narrow and secondly the parking isnt high enough with the top box and thirdly.. its just too bloody difficult!!

Staying in Conil was our biggest mistake as it was only a further 60km to Tarifa off the Coast of Morocco .. although of course we couldn´t go to Morocco as I didn´t have a passport.

Once there we decided to make the most of it and did get out along to the Coast to the place where the Battle of Trafalgar was fought (whoopdy doo!!).

A few miles away from where we stayed there was a lovely old town with some great history and scenery. A lot of the old ceramics and things are interesting but aside from that.. no there was not a lot to see and do.

The pool in the campground wasn´t open, the beach was on the west coast of Spain so was very very windy and the locals were at best unhelpful and at worst rude!! Needless to say we moved on relatively quickly.



Ceramic fountain in the Centre of the Historic city.

Coraleen at the ´Trafalgar Beach´ .. not that there is anything there to confirm nor deny this claim!



Another picture of the ceramic fountain... as you can see we were bored and unimpressed.

We left Conil and the awful campground and moved south heading for Tarifa when we realised just how damn close we were. It does pay to read a map better.. not a good idea to use finger spaces to work out distances.. another lesson well learnt!!

Tarifa and the east coast of Spain here we come!!

Lisbon and Sintra... which I missed out!!

The April 25th Bridge in Lisbon.. or is it the Golden Gate?? And on the right a close up of all those famous Portugese Explorers....

As we had changed our original plans and arrived in Central Eastern Portugal rather than down the Coast via Porta we headed straight to Lisbon from Castello Blanco.

As I think I have said before we have ´fun´ with Nelly in the Cities and towns as we dont have a good enough address. According to the guide books we entered in the ´closest campground to Lisbon´ and headed towards it. Alas, once again we found ourselves driving around in circles.. only this time we circumnavigated Lisbon on the ring road and in almost rush hour traffic. Rush hour traffic seems to be our speciality. As our patiences and tempers were fraying in the heat we saw a sign saying Sintra. According to the Lonely Planet this is a hilltop village less than an hour West of Lisbon (hello we had come in from the East and were supposedly heading for the South.. I ask you!) anyway as the Lonely Planet also said it was a town full of history where the rich and famous go for holidays we though it was a good a place as any to ask directions. And we were pleasantly surprised. It was gorgeous, not too far from the coast and the cost of a nice hotel with parking for Molly ws the same price as a cabin in a campground.. so there we stayed for three nights and felt terribly spoilt.

The whole place was amazing. There were regular trains into Lisbon and beautiful scenery all around us.. and a major benefit for us was the free internet at the Local Library.

Our hotel room was on the first floor of a majestic old building with wide sweeping marble staircases, a large bathroom with shower, bath and bidet as well as air conditioning! We were in heaven.

The only downfall, if you could call it that was Sintra was exactly as the Lonely Planet described it.. a hillside town. Everything was a steep climb up.. or back down as the case may be. We didnt need our regular walks as they just sort of happened.

This photo on the left is the view from part way up Sintra overlooking the City and its towers below.

The train into Lisbon was an experience with two changes to the underground before hitting Lisbon central. We opted for a hop on hop off tour bus given Lisbon alone would have taken three cays to explore .. and spent the day being driven around with an english audio system plugged to our ears admiring the sites.. and the crazy drivers from the comforts of a bus.

This is the vew from the Port in Lisbon looking back up into the city. The archway isnt shown as I haven´t labelled the photos well enough to know which was which!! Another lesson learnt the hard way!!

Beginning at the Port in downtown Lisbon you could look through a very ornate archway up to the City. The plaza near the port was bustling and appeared to be the hub of the city.. until we moved on up through the Arch to find that in general Lisbon was a typical busy City with people and sights everywhere. Full of parks and fountains (Europeans love their water features and if we tried to photograph everyone we would have thousands of photos) , Churches and monuments we simply enjoyed the scenery. We did get off at Belem (Portugese for Bethlehem) and took some photos of their waterfront monuments. The Portugese were pioneers in exploration in the early days although I must confess to racking my brains for a name of some of the explorers and only came up with Vasco De Gama.. must have been away that day!! One particular monument which took my fancy was ginormous and was commemorating all their explorers.. it was really amazing.

See below left.. it was just huge .. and as I said I wish I could remember some of them .. might be something else we have to look up on the net.

The photo below is another remembrance type monument on the waterfront at Belem.

Getting home to Sintra, once again in rush hour traffic, we pretended to be Sardines and squashed ourselves into the underground and then the train. I guess living in New Zealand we never really experience the huge crowds on public transport. The smell in the underground (BO that is) was absolutely disgusting and personal space was non existent. One man tried to wipe his brow on Coraleen´s arm which, when she moved it, he just wiped it on someone elses while keeping his two hands firmly on the overhead rail. Being short (for those of you who don´t know) I had nowhere to hold onto but that wasnt really an issue as I was held upright by everyone around me, I reckon even if I had passed out I would have staid upright in the same position and no one would have even noticed.

Sintra itself was just amazing. It was Euro1 for the sightseeing bus which went right up to the top of the town to an 8th century Moorish fort. The views from that were just spectacular and the remains of the fort itself amazing. We ambled.. or rather.. mountain goated around here for almost an hour taking so many photos The countryside was lush and green .. a far cry from what we had seen in Portugal so far.
Coraleen at the Moorish fort....

It would appear weather in Portugal is like the weather in Auckland. We woke to brilliant sunshine... two hours later there was thunder and torrential rain (which was when we chose to visit the old Castle.. not very interesting in my opinion although I am sure many would disagree) and an hour later the sun was shining again so we went to Cascais to the beach.

The bus didnt even turn up.. something we have become to realise is quite normal over here. There was a lovely Croatian girl waiting for the bus also so we shared a taxi to Cascais and wandered about 4 km up the beach. While it certainly wasnt beach wether the sun was shining and few souls were baring their bodies on the sand. Cascais was lovely with its long stretch of sand, bars all along the promenade and some tranquility.. until the train chugged through.. and again.. and again. We have yet to figure why its so common for railway tracks to go right past camgrounds (4 to date) or beaches? I guess their Town Planning Dept was also away that day!!

As the main train link to Lisbon went along the beach front we opted for a train home.. into Lisbon and then back to Sintra. Bad move!! Another rush hour traffic experience only this time we got ´lost´ in downtown Lisbon. We must have walked the same stretch of road about 5 times before chatting up a friendly Policeman who explained to us how we caught the right train to get the connection to Sintra. Honestly people in general have no idea.. we had so many conflicting directons we were going around in circles.. it was only later we thought when we had asked for Sintra they interpreted it as Central.. which is Centro... I don´t know but after another awful experience in the underground we found our way home!

Coraleen at Cascais beach. She had just taken her Polar Fleece off as we were trying to pretend it was warm.. but it was far from it at that stage in the day. And the one of me is at Cascais Beach enjoying a well earnt Drink at the bar.. it had by this time heated up and the sun was in full force.

After three days in this little paradise it was time to move on and head for the warmth.. this is when we headed to the Algarve.. and the warmth?? And no.. it wasn´t!!

Stuff....

A few observations from the inexperienced but slowly becoming more experienced travellers.. that I would like to share with you.

Cars

During our 36 hours in France we could have counted the number of Japanese cars on one hand.. it would seem NZ has cornered that market.

80% of the cars are Renault or Citroen.. well I guess that stands to reason. Once out of France and through Spain and Portugal Renault still appear to be more popular with the VW coming in a close second. We have seen a few more Japanese cars but they are few and far between.

The price of petrol has varied from NZ$3 a litre in England, slightly cheaper in Ireland, NZ$2 in France if you are selective where you buy it, NZ$1.80 in Portugal and back up to around NZ$1.90 in Spain. Actually thats not Petrol its diesel. Diesel is dearer than Petrol in England and Ireland!!

Road Signs

These have really amused us and deserve some comment. They are very graphic on this side of the world. Picnic areas are denoted by a man sitting on bench who actually looks like he is going to the toilet.. I kid you not!

Pedestrian Crossings. As a pedestrian you have to wait for the ´walking man´ to appear. You get exactly 60 seconds as it counts down with the little green man running and then.. a red man appears and the cars whizz past at 100 miles an hour.

When you arrive in a place such as Olhao there is a sign saying Olhao.. yes I hear you saying what is different about that. Well nothing actually.. but as you leave there is the same sign saying Olhao with a cross through it. Now you know you are no longer in Olhao.

When we were in Dingle, Ireland there was a notice on the beach telling you that if you had your dog on the beach you must pick up its droppings just the same as good old NZ. BUT this sign had a picture of a dog doing its business just to make sure you got the picture. And here is the pic to proove it!!

The ´sunny´Algarve

It seemed our prayers had been answered as the sun shone brilliantly as we pulled in to Olhao on Portugals south coast and the ´sunny´ALgarve. We were only a few kilometres away from where Madeleine went missing a few short weeks earlier and her picture was plastered everywhere we ventured.

As we arrived relatively late in the day we set up in a Cabin in the Camping Ground and drove into ´town´. Town didn´t meet our expectations although the shops were open but we were still not near a beach. According to the guide books this Camp Ground has great facilities and close to a beach. We soon discovered to get to the beach one had to walk or take a bus 3kms and get a ferry!! Hello.. we are NZérs and didnt quite comprehend this concept. There was however a waterfront but it was dirty and dingy and nothing like the postcard pictures we had seen.

Talking to the locals and by this I mean Brits who I might add actually live in the campground for months on end, who have forsaken the climate of Britain for a ´better lifestyle´ we soon realised NZ most certainly had its merits. One couple; well we only spoke to HIM had left the UK in November and had been living in this huge American Style mobile home ever since. They had just got back from 4 months in Morocco and were thinking of making NZ their home. As you can well imagine with Coraleen´s mortgage and finance background he spent hours with us promising to come back for a drink later in the evening. Somehow I suspect his partner wasnt that impressed as we didn´t see him again even though he had taken Coraleen´s contact details back in NZ !!

The good thing about the camp ground was the facilities. The pool area was huge and very well looked after compared to the dust and dirt which made up most of the tent and caravan sites. It also had a Supermarket which sold freshly baked bread every morning, a Restaurant, Pub AND an internet cafe all which were open 12 hours every day!!

Not to be put off we decided to wait till morning and drive to Faro where there is an International Airport and ´6kms of white sandy beach´. And wouldn´t you just believe it.. we awoke to heavy rain. The locals did assure us it hadnt rained for ages and would likely only be around for a few hours. The photo was taken at Faro beach where we did site on the wall for a while to catch some sun when it appeared later in the day.

We stumbled on the Faro Mercardo which is a fresh food market and were gobsmacked at their wares. Fresh fruit and vegetables but no Avocados and the fresh meat and fish!! Fresh king prawns which, incidentally were delicious at NZ$16 a kilo. The fish, on the other hand, were ... well weird is the only word for it. They were huge .. about 3ft long and had huge mouths.. certainly not fish we were familiar with. And as you would imagine.. it stunk!! But was definitely an interesting experience.

And not only did they have meat, fish, prawns.. they were also selling snails!! And like the prawns they were alive.

These snails were actually crawling around. I don´t think you can actually see it very clearly but I picked one up and it crawled around on my hand!

They are small and not like the common garden snail. I am sorry but I cant tell you what they tasted like as aside from being a bit of a sook I had no idea how to cook them and noone spoke a word of English to ask. And yes the bags in the background are also snails.. believe me there were bags and bags of them.. at about half a dozen stalls.

I opted for a Capuccino Icecream which was delicious .. still not sure about those snails though.