Blog 1.18: On to Valencia

Days 13 and 14 - October 4th and 5th 2022

Tuesday bloomed hot and sunny. Just the kind of day not to ride a bike; so that's what we did. Only a shortish ride, mind.

We decided to take a look at the bridge that we'd seen lit up in the middle distance the evening before. The provided bike lanes in Sant Jaume d'enveja made it easy to locate, and soon we were on the super-wide expanse of pedestrian and cycle path that dominates the arched bridge. Taking a short break on the thoughtfully-provided and comfy recliners we could view the mighty River Ebro below heading for the Mediterranean,  depositing its cargo of silt, further enriching and growing the delta peninsula.

What could otherwise be just another modern concrete bridge turned out to be rather more than that.

On dropping from the hump of the bridge, we entered the somewhat larger, if not noticeably busier, town of Deltebre

Or as some might say 'we went to Deltebre, and it was shut'. Oh well, not all was lost as the ever-reliable Lidl was open, and helpfully replenished our stocks of breakfast goods for the next morning.

Returning via the bridge to Sant Jaume we called into one of the few open establishments for coffee. Or as it turned out, three coffees. However, mine host graciously shrugged off my stupidity and no doubt had his next caffeine-based beverage somewhat earlier than he'd planned.

I know I didn't help matters, but I sometimes wonder how these places make any kind of profit. The coffee was good. Very good. And ridiculously cheap. The margins must be so, so slim.

On our return to the aire we passed a pizza joint, which sowed a seed, and we both found ourselves fancying bready Italian delights for our dinner. Inspection of their online reviews proved very positive, and we were all set.

Until... I checked the opening hours - and there weren't any; until Wednesday! Damn. Pork steaks à la van it was, then. Very tasty though.

As much as the Ebro delta is a delight in many ways, the whole area seems somewhat down at heel. Businesses seem to be thin on the ground, and struggling. Maybe it was the time of year, or maybe I just misjudge - but I don't think so. I wanted to see it, and I'm glad I did. It's huge. It's flat. And it's very wet and fertile. But I don't think it would be for everyone.

Come Wednesday, we'd already decided to bash on southwards a bit, this time using the near-deserted coastal motorway to munch the miles. A minor detour into Vila Real to take on LPG proved enlightening. I'd checked the rather rudimentary gauges on top of the two 11kg bottles, and one sulked at flat empty, while the other was following closely behind, prompting the decision to seek out supplies.

Now, we hadn't topped them up since our trip to Swanage in July, so I wasn't too surprised at the apparently parlous state of reserves. It came as rather a shock, then, that the gas dispenser clicked 'off' showing just 9.54€ and something slightly over nine litres on the dial.

Bear in mind that our two bottles, of 11kg capacity each, hold a total of about 54.4 litres of LPG and it quickly becomes apparent that we have used very little gas - and that those gauges are flamin' useless!

Happy though, I must say.

Arriving at our next stop, this time a campsite, we found ourselves on a pitch literally metres from the beach. Beautiful.

OK, the site may be slightly rough and ready in some respects, but in most of the ways that count it is perfect. And cheap(ish) especially as we accidentally reserved an electric hook-up as part of the price. Totally unnecessary given that the Spanish Sol is giving us all the power we need. Still, it was nice to quickly fully charge the Ecoflow powerbank, which had taken a battering the evening before dealing with those pork steaks on the induction hob, and there's also the fact that the fridge is running on electric, thus saving even more gas. Winner.

Even better were the hot, verging on scalding, torrential showers we both took. So much better than abluting in the van's limited cubic bathroom footage.

More: there's a laundry room. Everything we could find went in one of those machines, and now the exterior of the van embarrassingly resembles a, as M put it, Chinese Laundry.

That's probably not very PC is it? Still, ne'er mind eh?

Come early evening we decided to put pizzagate behind us and wander along to the site's bar/restaurant. Definitely one of the aforementioned 'rough and ready' aspects, this, but the service couldn't be faulted, and the seafood paella wasn't too shabby either. Or stinting in portion size.

The biggest drawback though, was the squadron of mosquitoes on manoeuvres. I think their combined mass was probably approaching the payload of their namesake deHavilland WW2 fighter bomber, and fit to do almost as much damage. The only thing that stops their total world domination would seem to be the hordes of small ravenous bats that darted around feasting delightedly on their gruesome blood-engorged supper.

We walked back to the van via the edge of the Med, and took coffee outside, with anti-mozzie lamp, candle, and M's favourite weapon, her 'bat of doom' all to hand.

All in all though, a good day.

Mileage so far: 1343