Wednesday 10 July 2019
Monday in Madrid started with trying to complete some UK business – the downside of being away for months. Try as I might, I couldn’t. To use a European analogy, I had a three pin plug and a two pin socket, and nobody could provide either a different plug or a different socket.
The business could wait until I returned to the UK, but it clarified my thinking. Over the last couple of weeks I’d been missing family and friends more than usual so, on the metro back from Madrid, I decided it was time to turn around. No screeching handbrake turn though, more nudging the tiller to come about (once a sea-scout, always a sea-scout!).
Having made the decision, I committed and booked a ferry – back in Blighty for the start of August.
Tuesday morning I travelled west to Ávila.
If Spain was a Daliesque clock face, I entered at about 2, travelled to about 12, then headed along wobbly hands to where they meet in the middle at Madrid. I’m now headed outwards, via Ávila, towards 10, clipping the top of Portugal as I go, before following the edge of the clock face through 12 and back to 2, France.
Last evening, I was writing my blog from Ávila, a UNESCO world heritage site famous for its complete defensive wall two and a half kilometres long and very photogenic, but could not upload pictures. I tried all I could think of, and have tried again tonight, but what has worked fine for two months now won’t work.
Urbane and informative though my words are, I know the blog is the pictures. Until normal service can be restored, I shall diary my travels in draft so I don’t forget what I’ve done, but will post with pictures later.
So, fear not! I’m not in jail, stowed away on Philip Green’s super yacht (blending in as a sea scout can), or travelling Morocco with Arab acrobats. I’m in Salamanca, sweeping around the top of Spain, then pointing the bows towards Calais.