Austria. A Stay In Schladming.

The view from the room.

Where to next, for me the fun part because we are heading to the mountains. To Austria, an Alpine town called Schladming, at the foot of the Hoher Dachstein mountains. The trip across Germany turned into a bit of a disaster with a three-hour traffic jam outside Munich, planned road works apparently, pity they didn’t plan what to do with all the traffic. We still arrived in good time though, to see the sun go down over the mountain and get a cold beer before bed.

Once we were back on track, we stopped for a coffee and a driver swap, Jane took over as we headed for the hills, it’s safer that way, I can’t stop looking around at everything.

Motorway views.

Castles flashing by.

The road weaves through tunnels and passes, below castles and through wooded hills striped by waterfalls, all while we get closer to the hotel we shall be staying in for the week. We left the main roads to follow the river Enns to Schladming where it joins the Talbach. Hills rising on both sides of the valley, snow hanging in the high clefts, cloud rolling across the tops, I had the chance to take a couple of pictures before the light was lost.

Blue sky of a different sort.

Night.

Morning, and a first day without a drive ahead of us, time for a look around, to see where we have landed. A day to explore, to see the town and get our bearings. A day made for planning, for checking the weather for the week ahead and to see if we could find some way of watching Wimbledon. The town was quiet, normal I suppose for a Sunday in the early summer of a ski town. The cloud was low and rain forecast for the day. But standing again on the balcony, the panorama spread out around us made it all OK.

Looking out over Schladming and the Hoher Dachstein mountains.

Schladming detail.

Doorhandle.

RC Church. Town centre.

Rooftop views.

Coffee stop views.

Looking towards our hotel from the church.

It’s always fascinating, to walk in a completely new place. Where even the language is something to be discovered. I had visited Germany when I was in my early teens, but very little of the language has stayed with me. We tried our best and the locals were friendly and not at all put out by our ignorance, we could at least say please and thank you.

Rushing water.

More water rushing.

As is normal, towns in the area are all constrained by the mountains around them and the rivers cutting through them. The two photos are of the Talbach, falling from its high mountain start. Unfortunately rain came, and we scuttled away to look about in the car, and finding some trails local to the hotel to see what could be done.

Waypost in the rain, the loneliest post.

Drifting on a Sunday afternoon.

Looking down the valley.

Private something??

The next few posts will be about the walking around Schladming, sad to say, we didn’t visit the town much. The call of hills and lazy evenings in a comfortable room won out. We went in for food, for shopping and for information, all of which was provided admirably. The hotel was great, nice big room, and everything we needed to be relaxed, and friendly staff always willing to help and answer questions. I think we shall be going back, it was too good to do in one go, you need to visit a place twice I think to get the best from it. Lots of pictures in this post, hope they do the place justice with my random eye.

Happy trails everyone, enjoy every journey, even the unexpected diversions. It was interesting when stuck in a German traffic jam to see everyone having picnics, walking the dogs and children or strolling ahead to the services for refreshments. A good way to use the time, stretch your legs and get some fresh air, it’s about how you use your time isn’t it.

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The Reality of a Coast Road

The reality of a coast road, drifting between brown rock and blue sea, the sky bleached by the sun. We continue south, hugging the coast even though it takes more time to follow natures curves. Time is what a holiday is, to smell salt in the air or see the clouds drifting across the mountain pass, with fleeting glimpses to the world spread around us. Time is the slow stop for coffee and food, strange languages and waved conversations. All add to the trip you make, however long or short.

We stopped of in La Manga, on the Mar Menor. A shallow lagoon full of the salt of decades. As the sun rises over the oversized lake you see towns and mountains spread around, our hotel room looked out over this natural lake. Used by humans for centuries. Creating a natural shelter, and a living from its violent volcanic formation. Now the sandbar is protected by a man-made reef, because it makes money from the beaches and tourists who come each year for the heat and the 22km stretch of beach, on both sides of the spit. Despite the heat, the time and time of year, we walked out onto an almost deserted seaside. In places like this you will never escape the blocks of apartments and the beach-side residences. But if you just look out to sea, there is just space. We stayed for one night of course, had pizza in a local bar and relaxed in the warm evening with the thin layer of salt on our skin and sand between our toes. Tomorrow was going to be our longest drive, but we would have a week to rest.

Blocks and blocks, everywhere you look.

A view across the Mar Menor

An old pump house to help use the land for salt extraction, one of many uses of the lake and land.

Not many pictures and few words, next post, Mijas and the Costa del Sol, and a walk into the hills above the sea.

Please take time to revisit my Charity walk post and follow the links to Ollie’s website. Thanks

Just a short post today time is pressing for us at the moment, lots to do.

Live each day as a new journey, see where it leads and take the time to enjoy it.

Spanish Spain

J. thinks I was a bit harsh on poor Calella, I’ll be nicer this time. After leaving Calella behind we took our ease with a short hop along the coast to Castello. Standing between mountains and the Mediterranean sea we chose to stay in the town of El Grau, on the edge of the main town, with beaches and harbour to occupy our time.

Hotel View

We booked a place to stay through a well known Late Room website and came up lucky, Our room, on the fifth floor had a balcony overlooking the port and out across the sea. Since we came only a short distance we had time today to hit the beach. Our first swim since we started (yesterday) and after being in the car we were ready. Not too busy and plenty of parking, I think we are ahead of the holiday season. The sea washed away the dust of the trip so far and we dipped and dived and floated about, watching the fish darting around our feet. Not as good as a hill to climb, but relaxing and comfortable to be in in such pleasant surroundings.

Beach at El Grau

After way to long in the sun and the sea, we gave up and drifted back to decide where to eat. It’s a Port we figured so there must be a seafood restaurant. And yes there was, the day was hot, the evening warm and calm. We discovered that Spanish is nothing like English or French when looking at a menu. The waiter, tried hard but gave up in the end and went to find someone who spoke a little English. It was better, but only just, next time we will get a phrase book. I did end up with some thing I believed to be shark, it was fish and was very nicely done. So score 1 for El Grau. The wine suggested by the lad also turned out to be a winner, a Tempranillo, Rioja. Just cool enough to enjoy and a pleasant finish to the day.

I love wandering the streets on an evening, just seeing the life around going on. The port was quiet, as were most bars and restaurants, but then Spain was playing in the European Cup, so we sat in a bar with a few people and drank beer while Spain beat Ireland. Happy faces all round, and the small crowd departed quickly to wherever they went. We drifted along some more, enjoying the night and taking in the scent of sea and sand, and finally hit the bed ready to sleep and attack the road again tomorrow.

The Port

On the Streets

A look out across the esplanade

One last trip to the balcony

My wife tells me we never have pictures of me, so this proves that wrong, a picture as we ready ourselves to leave and continue our journey with a stopover in La Manga. An interesting spit of land where Spain turns westward and the Mar Menor, a lagoon, sparkles on one side and the Med of course stretches away on the other. That though is for next time.

“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.”
Robert Louis Stevenson

Enjoy the journey.

South to the Sun

Day one, the plan is to get as far south as possible without going past tea time. My body is like a well oiled clock, and it knows when it is time to eat. Anything later and I have a tendency to eat junk food, dogs and small children.

South to the Sun, steady as she goes.

Above 1000m on a motorway

The A75 motorway is a joy, not often you can say that but you swoop and sway over and through the Massif Central on your way to the Mediterranean flatlands. The road is populated by Red and Black Kites, waiting for roadkill, the scenery is fantastic, and you pass some of the best wine regions in France. I love this drive south. It’s holiday time as you tick of the landmarks. St Flour, past the Pont du Garabit, built by M. Eiffel.

Tunnels through the mountain

The best bridge of all, the Millau Bridge, 2.5km long, and 19m higher than the Eiffel tower at its best. They even had to build a services so people could stop and take pictures, they were slowing for photos and slowing the traffic before it was created.

Millau Bridge

No stopping for us this trip, on past Montpellier, Bezier and Narbonne. Flying past Perpignan, and all the French beaches and the wines of Fitou and Corbierre. On it was into Spain, I always think borders should be like crossing into North Korea. Armed guards, huts and barriers to cross and the wait to be dragged into some hell-hole tourist trap hotel. What we get is a gateway through the hills, views of the old forts, and…

Nothing,

the road just carries on. Oh well, My old passport still has some stamps for me to look at. I need to find more sinister countries to visit.

Crossing the Spanish border

Dropping down the mountain

The Pyrenees near Perpignan

We were making for a town called Calella, looked good on Google maps. A few miles north of Barcelona on the coast and as it turned out, a tourist town. I have resisted going to Spain because of the idea of these places and the drive into town didn’t fill us with optimism as all the side roads and on the way in had prostitutes waiting for drivers passing. Deckchairs ready, I don’t know maybe a blanket, if romance is not dead. I wonder about the lives people lead, both to do this work and to use another person like that.

Random Mountains

Random roadside sculpture

Calella, turned out OK,basic, with food, beer and football on TV. For overseas visitors it was the European Cup. Football, with a round ball, and kicked, by a foot. So lots of loud groups wearing flags wandered happily about. Not bad, just not good. We ate, we slept, we left. Short hop day, following the coast and aiming to be somewhere in time for a first swim in the sea. We made it to Castello/Castellon, a part of town called El Grau. We struck pretty good this time, so I’ll keep you waiting to hear about this part of the country.

Mountains

Home Again

We made it back to our place in France. I’m sure you are all glad to know this. Now I can get online with consistency and start the story of our trip. First a few numbers, we drove from near Clermont-Ferrand to La Cala de Mijas in Spain. On the way, we stopped in Calella first, North of Barcelona, trundled South to Castellon, followed by La Manga and finally La Cala de Mijas for a week of relaxing and a walk in the local hills. The return trip took us to Valencia, a brief stop for a swim and cool down at Torredembarra, then two nights in a beach town just South of the French border called Roses. And finally home to our house in the hills of the Auvergne.

Passing through wine country

All told about 2200miles – 3500km, thirteen nights away, no internet (well, not much). The weather was hot throughout, too hot for me, I need the cool of some virgin snow. The scenery was quite surreal, almost a lunar landscape in places, and we passed through some real tourist spots as well as more traditional places.

Crossing the Spanish border

This was my first real foray into Spain, I have resisted the idea of sun, sea and sangria for a long time, it was time to see if it was all that, less or more. In the end it is always going to be a mixture, you can find what you want, if you look around. The people were friendly – despite our appalling grasp of the language. Not all Spanish speak English, despite what you are told, but that just makes it interesting and we didn’t go hungry or thirsty.

Over the next posts I’ll go into more detail about the places and the spaces we have visited and passed through. I’ll try to catch up on visiting everyone’s blog to see what you have been doing while I was away.

The View from the top.

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There is always something special about the moment you remember where you are returning to. Home, where the heart is as the saying goes. As the motorway climbs the hills into the Cantal region, we know we are nearly there. The excitement mounts, we know the place names and the sights now, and tonight we sleep in our own bed, wake to make the coffee and sit together in our own space. Do we carry our home with us when we travel, or is there somewhere special for all of us? Is it perhaps that we have our own sense of what is important, and that is different for all of us, what do you think? In the meantime, enjoy the view from wherever you are.

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Home

My lover – defined by mind,
by the curve of your back,
the scent of perfume on a pillow.
A phone call between places.
A sunset glow on the horizon,
and we can see from here
we are at the moment
of returning,
and we never knew
what we had forgotten.