Phase two began in Madrid where in some back water industrial park we picked up the camper van that is to be our home for 10 days. At risk of blowing my macho cover, I confess to sweaty palms as I eased this diesel behemoth (with a standard transmission) into the city's rush hour traffic heading for parts it unknown. In our pre-trip negotiations I had agreed to Beth's one demand that we would never head off into the sunset without knowing (and having reservations) where we were going to sleep that night. And yet here we were heading southwest into rural Espania, the sun literally about to set and us having not a clue where we are going. I rationalized that really we did know where we were going to sleep (in the camper) but confess to sheepishness at this legalistic machination.
Just before dark we found a camp ground which only cost 16 euros a night. Being so happy to have found a place we ignored the piles of debris and broken machinery that graced the reception area and,upon request, handed our passports over to the youngish woman who worked there (a gypsy perhaps). We settled in to our tiny site surrounded by other sites which were clearly permanently occupied by people who were not here now. We were essentially the only people there except for a bent over old woman across the way who scowled at me and a tired looking man down the road who kept a potentially mean German Shepard. As is the norm in Spain nobody spoke English. The surrounding camps were those ubiquitous working class summer refuges from the city. In various stages of deterioration with plastic lanterns, garden gnomes and tiki hut additions the camps radiated both the joyous love of children's summers well spent mingled with the lonely end of dreams days of old couples realizing that this is it.
Beth set about to figuring out all of the mechanical mysteries of our new home as I prepared dinner. The campground manager returned our passports calming our identity theft paranoia, the sun set, and we sipped rioja and ate dinner (proclaimed the best meal In Spain to date by Beth). A sliver moon drifted behind the silhouetted pines, an owl hooted, the cool mountain air washed away our stress and the vino tinto added a soft warm glow to the night.
Now my and my RV are fast friends although we have come to a mutual agreement to avoid driving through mideveal (and earlier) town centers any more. Next we are headed to Lagos Portugal for three days on the beach and we are, all three of us, filled with excited anticipation. So far so good.
