Val:
We managed to get away from Cueva del Fraile our hotel in Cuenca just after 8. The back of the car is now looking like a jumble sale. I’m dreading unloading in Vejer as I have images of plastic buckets, pans, pillows and much more merrily cascading down Merced. We stopped and had some breakfast between Motilla and Manzanares and then again for a brew up at a service station between Val de Pena and Cordoba. At last we are getting into regions we know well. Vejer is beginning to seem a little closer at last. At a place called Anujar we decided it would be nice to have a spot of lunch. Neither of us was particularly hungry but we thought it might be quite a while before we had the chance to eat properly. We really wanted to go to a venta but suddenly spotted a big Carrefoure supermarket. As we are a bit worried about leaving the car out of sight while it contains literally everything including the kitchen sink (if you count a plastic washing up bowl) we thought we could park there grab some food and literally keep an eye on the car from the restaurant. When we got in to order they were only selling raciones so we ordered a mixed green salad, a Russian salad and some fried boquerones (anchovies) plus 2 Sins (alcohol free beer). We sat outside and waited first of all a waiter brought out a plate of patatas bravas as a sort of free appetiser which we quite appreciated at the time, he then brought out bread and beer and the salads. Both salads were enormous each one would easily have feed a family of 4. The biggest shock however came when he proceeded to bring out the boquerones, there was a “shoal”, Bill reckoned at least 50! We just looked at one another in amazement knowing there was no way we could consume a quarter of the food in front of us. In the end we asked if we could have some boxes and piled most of it into aluminium containers. Guess what we’ll be having for our first meal in Casa Angel?

As I write this we are on the road to Jerez, just crossing the main Cadiz to Seville motorway not long to go now. It’s going on for 5pm.

Bill (written after our arrival):
The huge altiplano of Castilla-La Mancha is pretty boring geographically until you get to the quaintly named Desfiladero de los Desempenadosperros (Performing Dog Gulch?) close to the Andalucian frontier. We passed once again (a few minutes ago) one of the craziest places in Spain – if not Europe – if not the World. El Palmar de la Troya is the seat/“sea” (?) of the alternative pope. At present, Pope Gregory XXIII – or is it the nineteenth? Towering up behind concrete walls is the alternative Vatican City and St Peter’s and it’s Square. We hurried on by. Apparently the acolytes of Papa Greg subject women visitors to a series of embarrassing questions about their underwear – and Pope Greg himself is frequently found haranguing innocent drinkers in various Sevilla bars about that trumped-up impersonator, Benedict in Rome.

We arrived in Vejer at exactly 6pm – our longest day’s journey – the only one where we’ve needed to refuel twice. The trip-meter tell us we’ve done exactly 1840 miles from Baildon. All that way and not a cross word! Well – except when I pulled up a little too sharply after Val had brewed up for the umpteenth time on the road. Well one thing you can’t get is a decent cup of tea around here! Good job Val had brought all her potions – including lavender oil for scalds!