As we approach the end of our extended recreation period here in Spain, I am reminded that I promised you, dear reader, some rumination on this topic. So I take you back to one of the first views I shared with you when we arrived here !

Every time we come here, we half expect to see one or other of them has fallen, but no they remain firmly in situ. Some are as upright as the Queen’s Guards at Buckingham Palace whilst others are bent like the lovely lady I meet walking her dog! I say this in the loosest of terms as you will discover! I don’t know her age, I just know her as a lovely lady who smiles and cheerily passes the time of day with me when we meet. She cannot stand upright, and walks stooped over, but supported by, her wheeled frame with a seat. Well of course you will say , what else would she have? She’ll need that if she struggles to walk . Yes dear reader, but the seat is occupied by her little dog who she “walks” round the block every day. It gives a whole new meaning to walking the dog!!

Now where was I – ah, yes , the chimneys! Certainly in the UK , the wonky chimneys would be either repaired or removed I’m afraid – and all on account of Elf and Safety! So I got to thinking ( always dangerous I hear the DB say!) The Health and Safety legislation we have in the UK derives from the European Union does it not? So what’s happened. Clearly in Spain it is interpreted differently! I mean, the chimneys are a prime example, but take the tree pruning that occurs opposite our bolthole.

Now these trees aren’t giants , but they are about 3-4 metres tall ( in fact they are a large version of a common house plant( the oleander ) in the UK ) However they clearly require pruning here! Now in the UK men/ women in helmets, goggles, steel toe capped boots, chain mail gloves ( and possibly more armour!) would arrive to carefully wield their chain saws in order to prune said trees. Here, not a bit of it – two council workers turn up with chain saws, wielding them in a manner that would impress Luke Skywalker! Are there goggles! No! Helmets? No! Chain mail armour ? No! You see where I’m coming from?

Then our friends from a village along the coast told us about the following . They have a house in the church square of a nearby village, and in March this year the four bells were sent away for refurbishment and the tower was cleaned and repaired at the same time !

Then it was time for the bells to be replaced in their resting place!

Now at this point dear reader , you may be thinking – the area has been cleared, there is a police cordon ………no, this is Spain, and I quote from our friend “ There was a big ceremony, with a speech from the Mayor, the Town band playing and a demonstration of the bells while still on the ground – very loud, and then we all stood in the square just a few metres from the crane as it lifted them up to the top of the tower. I stood well back but the schools kids were sat very close!!!! Can you see the man hanging over the edge at the top of the tower in the picture? Elf & Safety – what?”

So there you have another fine example of Elf and Safety in Spain!

I dare not tell you in detail dear reader, of the vintage motorcycle race that occurs annually in Oliva- for you would be sure to say “ Enough!” – and then proceed to lie down in a darkened room or go to the pub ( whichever soothes you the most!!) Suffice to say that persons upon motorcycles ( I cannot in truth say whether it is the rider themselves or the bike that is vintage!) speed around a circuit. This is not in the country, no! It is more like the Monaco Formula 1 Grand Prix around an extended part of what we call “ the new town”. Before you ask and before you go and lie down – no, no substantial rubber tyre barricades, protective walls, marshals , just a few straw bales scattered around with a bit of plastic ribbon in between……….

The DB has also just reminded me of the San Juan festival held here on June 23rd each year! Before I continue I must tell you that ANY festival/ celebration here involves fireworks- and whilst we in the UK admire the amazing displays in the night sky, here the noise is what matters, day or night bring it on!! I remember saying to some friends of ours when we first came out here regarding San Juan “ Oh , we’ll watch it from our roof terrace” “ You won’t see anything then, it all goes on at the beach!” Perplexed , the DB and I ventured to the beach on said night. Imagine my surprise then , no shock horror actually,when I was met by a man running along the road with a throne of fireworks around his head – each one lit! Anyone on the HSE in the UK will now require hospital treatment…….

So, I am wondering about the EU and it’s Heath and Safety Legislation . I am in absolutely no doubt that when we go to work or go about our daily business, we should feel that we’re safe to the best of anybody’s ability ie our employer, the local council even the government of the day. However, I also feel that each and every one of us has a responsibility too. I had the privilege of working in our wonderful NHS – and was a clinical manager of a small service. For those of you who puzzle over the words clinical and manager in the same sentence, let me tell you that I was a clinician but had the responsibility of managing our service ( I will always be eternally grateful to my exceptionally efficient friend and service secretary Ann, and my lovely colleague and friend Marg who made my role and work an absolute joy!) As part of my role I had to attend compulsory training – well, all health professionals have to attend annually or biannually depending on the subject ( yes I know – I can hear you “ And what does this have to do with Elf and safety” Patience dear reader ( or in my case, patients dear reader!) I had an email informing me I was to attend Equality and Diversity training and to choose a date- well, I was sent more dates than there are in the desert. I chose one and duly phoned the training manager – “ Ah so that week then” she had the misfortune to say. “ A week” said I “ I have clinics booked, there is no way I can spare more than one day.” “ Take it up with your manager then” was the reply. So I duly did and needless to say, I didn’t attend the course. I’m afraid I believe in a very straightforward approach to Equality and Diversity – treat everyone as you would wish to be treated. Kindly and with respect – and any issues you don’t understand with particular religions, faiths, cultures- ask the person in front of you, your patient. Equality and diversity training is mandatory for all staff but I’m not impressed- if it was doing what it was supposed to be doing, how could one of my lovely Afro-Caribbean patients who underwent a mastectomy ( total removal of a breast) for breast cancer have been given a pink prosthesis? You can see that I am sceptical about some mandatory training – what happened to common sense? Basically someone in the upper echelons of the Trust ticks a box and all is well- we’ve met a target……( but we haven’t necessarily met all patients’) ….

Don’t worry I’ll get back to Elf and Safety soon enough, but you must know that the Health Service is close to my heart ? (Groan will go the DB, don’t get her started…) I was brought up in it and am surrounded by family who have dedicated their lives to it , so feel I am justified in commenting.

Anyway , back to Elf and Safety, as I said I was a clinical manager. Our role involves bandaging large and heavy legs, helping people move around our clinic , and in general looking after the people who seek our help etc. So in line with EU legislation ( remember where this started??) I carried out risk assessments ( according yo HSE requirement) to alleviate to the best of my ability, any injury or harm to my patients or my colleagues. However, when I was asked to provide a risk assessment for the use of Tippex, ……….what can I say, other than to make a plea for common sense to prevail! We certainly have a compensation culture in the UK – whatever happens it is always someone else’s fault. Do we ourselves have no responsibility? Of course we do and there needs to be a more balanced view. On that note I leave you for today …..only to say the DB took a tumble on Sunday. He was up on the roof terrace – I was downstairs in the kitchen- but it was my fault, because I’d asked him to get the washing in………. No more to be said!!!!

Until next time …….

I thought this an appropriate title on Armistice Day. I am always deeply moved on Remembrance Sunday – it is hard sometimes to understand where we would be now, had generations before us not given the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom. The Dearly Beloved and I went with friends and neighbours to Ypres in Belgium for a tour of some of the many World War 1 Battlefields and cemeteries. I had always looked back with thanks but no understanding of what really happened. My paternal grandfather and his brother were there – and though totally banned, my grandfather wrote a diary. It was an inexplicable experience retracing my grandfather’s steps – at least he came home. His brother however was not so fortunate- aged 21 he was killed. Now the sentiment from my home was this was “ sad” – but as we travelled on that bus across Belgium, the harsh reality was that his body is still missing under Belgium soil and could be discovered with any new build at any time. He is by no means the only soldier whose body has not been recovered and I pay the highest tribute to the Belgian people for the respect they give our dead when they are found.

However Remembrance is not just about those who died in World War 1. Our friend Lee served in current day war – he has never spoken to us of the horrors he witnessed but any one of us must know that those serving their country in war zones see things that horror movies could never portray . Losing friends has been hard for both the DB and I – but to see a friend blown to smithereens in front of you has to be indescribable . So to all those who have served our country , serve it today and will do in the future – you have my deepest love and respect.

On a lighter note I hear Jeremy Corbin plans to improve working conditions for those in the Armed Forces….just wondering how he’s going to do that ……Without a doubt those serving must have respect, appropriate pay, living conditions and pensions – my thoughts really are for the battlefield and how you can possibly effect that ….

Oh dear, I hear you say, dare I go on? Of course Dear Reader, continue … Last week the DB and I climbed the mountain behind our bolt hole to the Cross at the top. Now the DB last did this forty years ago – I know , vintage describes him well !!!! As we set off I realised we were taking the true Camino Romero ( the way of rosemary!)

Either side of the path , both up and down, were rosemary bushes. In truth Kathleen and I on our Camino hadn’t experienced this – I think we saw one rosemary bush on our way! Anyway the hills round here make up for it!! For those of you who have followed this blog from its incarnation, I want to assure you that although I haven’t written about how hard the Camino was, it’s because it wasn’t and not because I don’t want to show any weakness. Yes we had hills and mountains to climb, but we never once questioned whether we could do it or not- rather we knew every hill had its summit and we would get there at some point.

However I feel my blog as we leave St Jean Pied de Port ( when we do Dear Reader!- several years hence I fear!!) will read slightly differently!!!!

Now last Friday, on my way to the market , trolley in tow………I’m going to digress! Yes I have a shopping trolley – whoever thought! My mother had a tartan type – I remember as a child walking with her to the village, trolley in tow! Then look , our purchases from the butcher, fishmonger, grocer, green grocer,were given to us in paper bags – marvellous.

Then someone invented the plastic carrier bag – I remember thinking miracle of miracles , what an amazingly brilliant invention! – and then the supermarket came along – could it get any better????…..I guess I leave it to you to answer – all I can say is that I now shop at the butcher, the fishmonger, the green grocer …….the supermarket of course gets a look in but sadly the individual specialists cannot compete with big brand prices. So the big supermarkets will be here to stay – and they offer choice to those on low budgets and so are invaluable .

A minute ago I was walking to the market with my trolley ….. see what can happen! Now as I crossed the road I saw our friend Paco in his mobility scooter outside a rather nice jewellery shop. We gave our customary greeting and I asked what he was doing . “ Oh I’ve been to choose something for my wife’s birthday next week” “ How lovely, what have you chosen?” “Oh some earnings and a matching necklace”

So I said “ Lovely Paco, I’ll tell the DB I’ve seen you and what you’ve bought!”

Now Dear Reader, I’ve previously promised that I would divulge details of the DB’s past presents . I do not want you to think I am materialistic in any way – all I ask for in a present is thought, and before I tell this tale you need to know the DB has given me some wonderful and amazing presents, all of which have been greatly loved and appreciated.

However one year he had a “blip”!!! I was working, so as was my routine, I went downstairs early to take the magnificent Louie out for his early morning walk. Propped up by the kettle was an envelope and a plastic bag. I opened the bag to find a Jasper Carrot CD – a little baffling ( and yes back in the day, I liked Jasper Carrot but not been a recent fan…) , anyway got on with walking Louie, came home and made the DB a cup of tea. “ Happy Birthday” he said “ Thank you” said I . Then off I went to work – now remember what matters to me Dear Reader, thought….

I didn’t quite know what to make of this gift – anyway we were going out for a meal with the DB’s son and wife later so I was looking forward to that . I arrived home and got ready to go out- in the car on the way the DB said he knew the gift wasn’t perhaps quite what I wanted. So I decided to let him know thought was very important. “I went to five shops trying to find what I wanted” he said. The guilt dear reader, the guilt. Best leave it there. Silence.

Anyway we arrived early at the restaurant- and when Ross and his wife Lucy, arrived they did so with balloon, sparkles and anything else birthday like you can imagine . “ Oh for goodness sake “ said the DB “ you had to show me up, didn’t you?”

“ Oh no Dad, what have you given Jane for her Birthday” asked Ross ( he knows his father well!!!)

Well, without going on and on, he confessed ( as I suspected) that on his way home the evening before my birthday, the only thing he could find was something Jasper Carroty which I might like!!! He found it at the motorway service station!!!! As for the five shops he’d been to – well Pets at Home had nothing, Allied Carpets had little to offer, Mothercare – say no more, Staples had nothing and B&Q ….oh yes they had a yellow rose, but he didn’t know where I’d put it ………

So Dear Reader – thought is what counts. Needless to say , I know where I’d have put the yellow rose 😂😂😂……

At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them …

More of gifts and presents later dear reader! Firstly I want to say “ Salut et bienvenue à nos amis françaises Josiane et Didier – j’espère que vous avez cherché ce blog et maintenant vous le lisez!!”

Now I’m sure you are thinking we have a linguist here – and I can assure you this is me, not Google translate! I would never ( that should be both underlined and in bold type – capitals to top it off) have considered myself in any shape or form, a linguist . French at school was a disaster – I remember from class“ Je vais au marché et j’achète……from whence would commence a list of individual items one might buy in a market from each class attendee – pamplemousse was a favourite, as were pomme and the inevitable pomme de terre! Then of course I remember “ Zut alors , dix escargots” – however neither of the above were of much use when forty years on, travelling through France, I wanted to converse with the people around me, or ask for a beer, glass of wine, ham sandwich . Strangely whenever I met someone I was neither on my way to the market, nor close to ten snails! So , surprisingly perhaps for you, as I like to be able to communicate with people around me, I decided to start again with French. My cousin was learning Spanish using a system called Duolingo on her i phone. Dear reader , the rest is history – daily lessons and I can now communicate ( after a fashion) with our French friends . My problem is that Spanish is my natural second language so I do find speaking French requires a lot of thought and effort – but I can do it! What would my French teacher from back in the day say – probably “Zut alors Jane!!”However I should be honest and tell you that when the Dearly Beloved and I are with our friends , the language spoken is Frengish ( or a combination of Spanish, English and French) as the DB struggles with Spanish and French- give him German any day!

There I go again – I find when I’m writing and I get distracted ( after all I was only welcoming friends to my blog!), it’s like going upstairs to get something, and when you get there you can’t remember what you went for!!! What am I talking about I hear you say …….you mean it hasn’t happened to you! Well, wait and see because it will happen to you sooner or later!!!

Now back to where I started – with the gift and present theme ( oh this may be a tissue warning by the way …)

So the other day the DB and I went shopping to a nearby mall – we were looking for a bathroom towel rail . Yes I know, we know how to live! I also took the opportunity to have a wander to my favourite shop in the mall – and the DB went off on the auspices of looking for a particular bottle of wine that we had shared with our friends in Andorra.

Now, I thought no more about it – visited in peace and tranquillity the places I wanted to go to, and then went to the appointed meeting place which was a cafe next to the supermarket where the DB had reportedly been.

Now this cafe was opposite a shop that stocked amongst other glittering objects, Pandora jewellery and herein lies the tale…..( and we are going to go back in time now!)

In February 2014, I had surgery for breast cancer. The day before the operation we ( the DB and I) were treated to a luxury 4 D scan of my eldest son’s first baby. I’d had no idea where we were going or what we were going to do – however having seen a beautiful baby boy, we then went to meet up with the rest of the family not far away. Only Emma, the eldest, was missing. Then I was presented with a Pandora bag from all of them ( it’s alright I haven’t lost it, I know where I’m going with this one!!) – and Emma was FaceTimed. What’s this I remember thinking? Well it was a beautiful bangle with four charms – a heart with Mum written in all its forms, a charm with family holding hands interspersed with gold hearts, a charm full of lovely faces with love and family written in it and a charm with a map of the world. Now dear reader the last one stumped me I must admit – but I have never forgotten Emma’s words when I seemed puzzled – “ It’s because you mean the world to us, Jane.” ( Don’t say I didn’t warn you!) If I tell you that bracelet comes off my wrist at night and goes back on in the morning every day, you can perhaps understand why!

The observant amongst you however will have noticed that there was someone missing in all this – you’ve got it, the DB ! None of the children had told him about this because they didn’t want me to know ( and as one of my daughters in law says if she wants something keeping quiet, “ Don’t tell Nick alias the DB – he can’t hold water!”) So he was equally in the dark but clearly felt a little left out – so disappeared later , returning with a charm of a kennel to add to the bracelet from Millie Dog.

So now we return over five years later to the shopping mall and the jewellery store. The DB had asked me several weeks ago if there were any Pandora shops near us – “Oh yes” I’d replied “in Portal la Marina”, but thought no more about it.

It transpires that the search for the wine was a distraction dear reader! However in his endeavour to find what he wanted from Pandora and surprise me, he had been unable to even find the store, let alone what he was looking for, and had traversed two floors and the whole mall in his search, only to find me sitting opposite it waiting for him!!!

So the element of surprise evaporated but he knew what he wanted, and I now have a beautiful silver entwined heart charm added to my precious bracelet. This was when I decided on the title of this blog! I can hear you all going “Aaaaah” now – and indeed it is warranted, but wait for another blog on the DB’s present buying ………….He is famous ( some may say infamous!) in that department – and not always for the right reasons !!!!!!!

Now for more lighthearted news! We went to the beach yesterday – well you can see what the weather is like! As soon as we got there I was taken back in time – this particular beach in the afternoon is known for the wind and attracts numerous kite surfers. However yesterday there were none – instead there was this-

Yes a windsurfer! We certainly don’t see many of them on this beach now. I don’t know whether any of you have attempted this sport……..but yes you guessed it, I have! On a holiday to Fuertaventura ( long ago and in a previous life!) with our friends Linda and Mike( an avid and experienced windsurfer) I decided that I would like to learn how to glide effortlessly across the water with the aid of a sail – so signed up for 5 lessons from who other than Jesus! Well what can I say – I could stand on the board and even move forward ( not difficult over there, wind is in plentiful supply), however, despite his namesake, he couldn’t work miracles . I could not turn the windsurfer – so short of taking a cheap wind propelled trip to Africa , I decided it possibly wasn’t for me! However,I remember when windsurfing was the “IT” sport- and it was at the time I moved to the “North” ( via Watford Gap and upwards!- contrary to popular belief, no passport required)

I worked at a large hospital in a northern town. I remember the junior doctors all coming to work with their VW Golfs – and strapped on the top by way of a roof rack were……you’ve got it ……their windsurfers. After work they’d go off to the local reservoir and show off their bodies and their skills. It was a real “who’s who” in the car park – probably all hoping to be the strongest “babe magnet” Then one day in the doctor’s carpark, amongst the melee of windsurfers, lythe bodies and top of the range VW Golfs there appeared a most peculiar site – a basic Citroen with an ironing board on top strapped on with rope……………talk about iron …..y!!!! Needless to say, the owner of the Citroen wasn’t lythe bodied, nor interested in the sport, nor could he be described as a babe magnet but a more lovely guy you couldn’t hope to meet. Dave, I salute you! (Oh don’t think he liked ironing much either ….)

Well dear reader, the end is nigh – thank goodness I hear you say! I’m going to leave you with something I saw on a tee shirt which touched me – so until the next instalment –

“ In a world where you can be anything- be kind”

Those of you who have been following me will know that the reason I started writing was linked to my Camino, which was undertaken in memory of our friend Alistair who died last year of prostate cancer. ( At this point dear reader, I should perhaps give the tissue warning)

However in July this year our friend Marylin died – she had no illness, no long term health problems- in the morning she was having coffee with her husband and adored dog Maddie and by nightfall because of the result of a tragic accident, she lost her life. Now this blog is by no means intended to be, nor will it be, an obituary of her life- there will be digressing, you ought to know me by now! There will be times when you think I’ve completely lost the plot- but whatever is written , is written with Marylin in mind, and she would expect no less!

I remember a very special lady in my life telling me once how hard it was to lose your friends – and she was right. In case you’re wondering who it was – it was my Auntie Iris . No relation of the maternal/paternal sibling type – my mother and she gave birth four days apart in the same maternity unit, and both were doctors wives ( well my mother would want you to know she was a Consultant’s wife!!) but even so, a friendship was formed . I was sent to school near my father’s work, which was fifteen miles from home – so naturally I became part of Auntie Iris’ lovely family. You see I’ve already digressed dear reader – I wasn’t going to go there- but as I’m writing about Iris I see similarities between her and Marylin. How strange is life!

I guess with my three score and a bit years , I suppose I should consider myself fortunate ( if you can call it that) to have lost only two friends. People all over the world are losing friends daily due to war and other catastrophic events which puts things into perspective, and my sons had witnessed the death of at least two friends before they were twenty five.

However loss is loss regardless – so I shall return to my focus of this particular blog, Marylin. We met about twelve years ago – they lived here and at that time , because of work, we spent short spells here. Now Marylin was a worrier but she was a lovely worrier. She had the biggest heart and her culinary skills were second to none . It goes without saying that her vegetable samosas and onion bhajis were the best ( apologies to all Indian restaurants in the area, but the truth sometimes hurts!) – we spent many a happy time around the table in their garden enjoying the fruits of her labours in the kitchen,in the company of friends, and of course Sunny their resident chameleon.

She was the taster in my endeavours to replicate the Flan de Cafe , a homemade desert from one of the local restaurants . I’d make it then carry it over the hill to share with her. After about three attempts – we were happy with it………….

Then we discovered an amazing coincidence! Now dear reader, we’re going back to the maternity hospital – Friday 9 th August 1957 to be precise! And yes it is relevant. I was delivered into this world by an obstetrician called George Brentnall – I don’t remember much about it but I do recall my mother recounting on many occasions how she assured George she would push me out in time for him to attend his pre- arranged dinner that evening ! Back in the day medical dinners were very boozy affairs – they may still be but as I haven’t attended one for a while – I don’t feel I have the authority to comment! Drinking and driving went hand in hand – not in the way we know it today – driving back then under the influence was considered quite normal. I recall my father telling how on their way back from one such dinner, they came across one of the wives standing by side of the road in her evening gown. He stopped wondering what on earth had happened, only to discover that his colleague and driver of the car, had heeded a call of nature. His wife got out of the car to make sure he was okay, only for him to get back in the car and set off, clearly immune to the fact his wife wasn’t there. Anyway my father took her home … one can only imaging the conversation in that house that night!

I’ve digressed again – back to George Brentnall! He who delivered me into this world! He and his wife Maria were very good friends of my parents and they had a home in Walberswick in Suffolk. My parents bought a static caravan ( we’re going back nearly fifty years so no mod cons like running water and flushable toilet) and we used to spend time together either in Walberswick or at the caravan. So when Marylin and I were talking one day- Suffolk was part of the conversation – she said she knew Southwold and Walberswick very well having lived there, we discovered that we both knew the Brentnalls. They lived next door to her elderly mother and called to check on her every day ! I promised you an amazing coincidence and I hope you will humour me in the convoluted journey we’ve taken to get here – but I’m sure you will agree coincidence is what it is, a bond and a link to a previous life – it meant a lot to me.

She and I were overdue another shopping trip – we went to a shopping mall near here last year and had a great time. I agreed to pick her up at 10.30 and we’d be back to meet her husband and my Dearly Beloved for lunch at 1.30/2. Can you believe it dear reader, neither of them could understand how we girls could spend three hours shopping? I mean her husband has travelled the world, the Dearly Beloved not so widely travelled but surely they must have learnt that two girls, cafés and shops – three hours is hardly enough!!!

You can probably imagine that in the writing of this I have shed many a tear for a friend I won’t see again. The DB and I do things now that we talked about doing with them when we saw her in July ( and we had some lovely times with her then for which I will always be grateful)- like the Tapas run, the steak restaurant in Benidorm- and she isn’t here to do them with us anymore. Yet she is everywhere- in all those places and needless to say , mention Flan de Cafe ………..

Now I’m not always a fan of Facebook- probably because I don’t really know what I’m doing with it !- but from time time it pulls me up sharp( for the teachers amongst you “sharply” but it just doesn’t have the same ring somehow!) I have always believed we must all make the most of every day because none of us know what’s around the corner. My lovely friend Clive wrote in acknowledgement of many birthday wishes sent to him “ Thank you – Let’s make sure we are kinder to one another in the year ahead.” If everybody took those words on board what a better place this world would be!

So I leave you with the following which I saw on Facebook and only reiterates what has been said –

“ In the blink of an eye everything can change. So forgive often and love with all your heart. You may never know when you may not have that chance again.”

(Unknown author – but someone very wise!)

Thank you for taking the time to read this -it has been surprisingly hard to write but I hope Marylin would be proud!

Who knows where we’ll go next time …….wherever it may be though, I hope you’ll be right alongside me!

I suppose in truth ( and as we assured our offspring) our journey was reasonably uneventful. However , uneventful is no good for a blog – so the truth will out….

Our travels from the start point currently in the EU (and don’t get me started on Brexit or we”ll never leave the UK in this blog!)to Folkestone were uneventful. However we arrive at the tunnel to go through security ( can I remind you at this point that my name is marked – who knows where!- as a woman to be observed regarding the potential carrying of explosive matter) , and what do you think they ask us? Dear reader , they ask if we are carrying any firearms or weapons! We of course say no – although the DB says lamely under his breath “ We have a gun dog , does that count?” Fortunately this comment was only heard by myself and I feel I must clarify. Millie is certainly a dog, but gun dog she is not! I took her as a youngster for training with a chap who clearly knew about dogs, their training and held classes for those of us who didn’t!!! What I hadn’t quite realised was that these were gun dog training classes – and the other dog owners were very keen to show off their four legged friend’s prowess and ability. I think all I need to say is that Millie would sit next to me and ( occasionally) wait to be commanded to fetch the dumbbell. Then it all went badly wrong. Oh she’d find it alright – never fear on that score- but this is where she became just a Golden ( not a Golden Retriever) – retrieving is something that doesn’t interest her. After several attempts to chase after her, making a complete fool of myself in the process, just for me to collect the dumbbell, I felt no more need to attend these classes!

Again I digress! We cross the Channel on the train and set off through France also in the EU. Simple ! We manage to negotiate our first stop relatively trouble free. We did sit for a while in an automatic toll booth, repeatedly pressing the blue button for a ticket to no avail, till someone pointed out to us that we were in the wrong lane! However we did manage this time to negotiate the roundabout by our hotel safely. I say this time, because last time as we were leaving via our usual route, we were incensed by Mrs Sat Nav telling us “ take the first exit” “ Ridiculous” we exclaimed , “ it is clearly the third exit , how can it be the first?”

Well both were correct, although Mrs Sat Nav was trying to make sure we approached the roundabout in the appropriate manner for France! All I can say is the two cars we met as we went the wrong way round the roundabout, were most obliging and didn’t honk ( or to our knowledge) swear at us!

Now I don’t know how many of you drive in France, but the speed limits are an anathema. Yes it’s clear it’s 130 kph on the motorway reducing to 110kph if it’s raining- but off piste- quel disaster! We learnt a hard lesson last year when taking what the DB believed to be a short cut-not only in driving time but also to his pocket ( an opportunity not to be missed by Mr HOW MUCH?!!) Whilst travelling through a village he realised he’d been flashed by what we assumed ( correctly as it turns out!) – so after much investigation as to what may happen- we alerted family and friends back home to keep an eye out for the dreaded letter from the Gendarmerie. Nothing came! Phew,couldn’t have been us! Then in April this year ( six months later!) – a formal looking letter with a French postmark lands on out door mat and hey presto a 90 € fine! Some would say better late than never but without being disrespectful to the good police men and women of France, I don’t hold out a lot of hope. The last time we were driving through a big city in France in heavy traffic ( my good self at the helm) we pulled up alongside a police car containing two of the said gendarmes. Now the DB was busy on his phone but as a passenger, this is totally permissible. However the Gendarme found it necessary to tap on his window, point at the DB , shake his head – until I pointed out that I was in charge of the vehicle …..Somehow the gendarme didn’t find this amusing ….

No such distraction this time though – we sailed through Tours, Poitiers – although at some point in our journey we passed a field of concrete cows – took me straight back to Milton Keynes when it was first built ( and yes I remember it well!) Their claim to fame was a field of these immovable objects though why on earth such an array is necessary I’ll never understand !

So we continue to Andorra our next point of rest! In case you don’t know, Andorra is not in the EU but fortunately ever since the last Brexit deadline passed , I have made sure that Millie is properly covered for our travels. Be prepared to cross the border with all necessary documentation available and open at the relevant page we were instructed! Prepared we were, but imagine our disappointment when one minute we were in France the next in Andorra and not a border guard in sight. They had either gone for lunch or they didn’t work on Sunday!!

We arrived at our destination missing ( according to the road signs) any potential avalanche – possibly on account of there being no snow- and any free running bulls.

What a destination though! Neither the DB nor I have been to Andorra before! Wow is all we can say! We stayed in Soldeu with our friends David and Clive , in one of their ski apartments. Abject luxury , dear reader , having show photos to our nearest and dearest a family ski holiday is being considered!

As Clive and I walked the dogs in the morning – oh before I go any further I should introduce you to their dog, a boxer called Patsy, Princess Patsy to us, though on some occasions Patsy the Pervert ( don’t ask, please) ……

….we saw what to me was a mega ski slope( you understand with snow!)

This, dear reader, is The Face ( a black run) the home of the 2019 World Cup Ski Championships and to be the home of the 2023 World Cup Ski Championships!If anyone reading this is a skier ( please note I am not, but more of that in a future blog ) the quality of the accommodation here is five star and I cannot think of a more lovely relaxing place to come back to after a day on the slopes! The property itself is beautiful and surrounded by plentiful hostelleries and eateries so check it out by visiting skichaletandorra.com – just a minute, when I starting this blogging lark, if you remember I was following a man who earned a six figure sum from his travel blogging escapades! Ha! Here I come !!!!! I can see how it’s done now …….alas, the joy for me is sharing with you all. and that is how it will stay!

So before we leave a non- EU country for an EU ( in out, in out,shake it all about!!) country- I’m on a promise, yes me dear reader! Eat your heart out Ski Sunday 2023, for I shall be on a balcony in Soldeu, glass of Cava in hand, observing the World Ski Championship -and the proximity of the appartement balcony to The Face will allow me a perfect visual experience!!

“Where on earth are you ?” I hear you gasp – “ The middle of a brick yard is hardly utopia- are you sure you’re not sickening for something, taken a wrong turn or perhaps you have finally lost it? If this is a journey’s end then I think that I , your reader, deserve an explanation!”

Dear reader, you shall have all the information you need to understand fully why this is a journey’s end and is my utopia ( and no, for those who know the meaning of the word, it is not imagined but very real – and yes it is my perfect place! )

It isn’t perhaps your idea of a holiday destination. As you correctly identified , it is surrounded by disused brickworks and, of course, wonky chimneys! At this point I am hearing you shout “Stay away from them, they may fall at any moment – are they fenced off? Surely there is to be an immediate Fred Dibnah style demolition?(for those of you wondering who on earth he is – look him up on Google – a great Lancastrian bloke) The answer to all of that is no, no, no – this is Spain, where Health and Safety appears not to appear! Please don’t get me started on H&S – whilst it is a subject worthy of my attention, it will be addressed in a future blog. After all I wouldn’t like to fall at the first hurdle and prove that occasionally in my little utopia , things aren’t always perfect!!!

So let me tell you ( get to the point I hear the DB saying!) , this place is where we have our bolt hole. It is in a small industrial town on the east coast of Spain – not a villa, no swimming pool, no marble walls, no sea views ( well if you stand on tiptoe in one spot on the roof terrace , you can just about see the sea !!) just an ordinary Spanish town house but it gives us an extraordinary life.

I told you – ordinary! We weren’t going to buy a house in Spain – no, honestly, we weren’t. This house belonged to my adopted mother in law – that’s got you thinking , hasn’t it! Oh and ten points if you can guess her name!

Shortly after meeting the Dearly Beloved back in 1997, he suggested a holiday here, and so here we came! Now the house was nice, we had lovely weather, the beach is second to none and within easy reach and we were here together! That was all – nothing more! Eight years later, and now Mrs Dearly Beloved, the DB received a phone call from his previous mother in law, saying she was selling the house. I remember so clearly where I was and what I was doing – reclining on a sofa ( I told you previously we didn’t have a chaise longue!) in the lounge. When he came in to suggest we fly over to have another visit in case we might be interested, I just said ( and dear reader, I have absolutely no idea where this came from) “tell her we’ll have it.’

The rest is history! Sometimes I make spontaneous decisions like that, who knows why or how, but I always make them with a surety that it is the right thing to do. So there you have it, dear reader, a journey’s end, in the middle of disused brickworks, surrounded by wonky chimneys – and we two ( oh not forgetting Millie as well) couldn’t be happier!

Next time on Camino Romero – The Hokey Cokey in Europe- from the UK to Spain via France and Andorra!

Well I’ve been home since Saturday so have had time to reflect- well I say time !….I’m supposing that you all think that having arrived home after such a hike – I would have spent the last few days reclining on my chaise longue being fed peeled grapes ( green) by the Dearly Beloved and given Earl Grey tea whilst relaxing and listening to the dulcet tones of ………stop right there ! Wrong! I’ve washed, cleaned ,shopped , walked ( yes Dear Reader despite the rain , our gorgeous Millie has to be walked!), baked and packed …….some would say, no peace for the wicked!!!!

Now, the company who supported us on the Camino have understandably asked for some evaluations. I completed the form with no hesitation- they were brilliant. However , in order to establish which trip I’d taken, I had to go through quite a list! Different Caminos were on the list to choose from, but what caught my eye was the French Camino on horseback – wow that would be some journey! What you don’t know about me is that I have always loved horses – however before I go off on a tangent, I’ll tell you , the Camino on horseback is a no no. I’d only do it with Kathleen and neither she, nor my derrière would consider it on top of a horse!!!

However the tale of my love of horses is worth telling. I was taken to riding stables as a child ( in Wooton in Bedfordshire) every week – Saturday if I recall correctly. I never understood why I couldn’t have my own pony – after all we had land either side of our house- but no way! I went on riding holidays/ pony club – fell in love with the pony I was riding – but no! How unfair can life be – and then aged thirty five, and with stables and land, a lovely patient of mine asked if I could take on his daughter’s horse. A dream come true – Copper came to live with us …. then I realised what owning a horse was all about, and yes they are an expensive commodity, but the greatest cost I learnt, was time. I loved having him though – this was my sport!

You see, I hated sport at school . Netball, hockey, lacrosse, swimming or tennis were on offer, but none caught my eye. I mean I did the jumping in a pool with pyjamas on and was deemed capable of rescuing anyone in difficulty- but butterfly and front crawl eluded me, and breast stroke was nothing like the stroke you see in the Olympic swimming teams!

I never mastered the art of the hockey stick – and as for running around a pitch with a football sized ball trying to get it in a net, clearly out of reach, didn’t do it for me either!

Okay, so that leaves two – have you ever watched a game of lacrosse, dear reader? Well it is fearsome – more so have you seen the goalie ? He or she is dressed up like someone in an ice hockey goal- it goes to say I was useless at the game! I’ve realised that I can control my legs ( sort of) and I can control my arms – but getting them all to work together is a challenge. So lacrosse, where one has to run whilst carrying a ball in a net on a stick, gave me considerable angst!

Imagine my horror then , when at a game when I was on the touch line ( thank goodness) – I was asked to get dressed up like a padded space man, to go in goal because the usual goalie was poorly!! Please don’t ask the score!

So that leaves one sport – tennis. Now my mother loved the game! She farmed me off on many an occasion as a small child whilst she went to play tennis! It appears she won a silver spoon at one point – oh the accolade!!

However just because you are good at something, doesn’t mean that your offspring will inherit this talent!!! No matter- I am sent for tennis coaching, and then before I know it I’m entered into the Bedfordshire Tennis Championships! Whoa – stop right there! New tennis skirt, shirt, shoes, in fact all the gear but certainly no idea! However, no choice I’m there – as if that isn’t bad enough ( I mean I don’t particularly like playing tennis) – my first opponent is announced, and who other than the school champion ! Well suffice to say, I neither got a serve in nor returned a shot – humiliation at its best!!!!

I’ve certainly never forgotten that experience, but have learnt that it’s okay not to be sporty! Walking , dancing and hooping are my forms of exercise now – and I couldn’t be happier!

In case you’re wondering I don’t have a chaise longue anyway so couldn’t recline on one if I wanted – and also sitting down on whatever, with my feet up, isn’t me either!!

I’ll be back in touch next week – I’ve certainly got a lot to reflect on, and will share my thoughts with you next time …..

Before I continue I must correct myself ( yes, even sixty somethings get things wrong ….and admit to it!) My son Joe suggested today we’d been time travelling – the very thought! However he assured me I had put the date yesterday as 27 th November- who am I to dispute it? Well I can assure you yesterday was September for us as it was for you! I stand corrected!!!

Our last evening was spent chilling in luxury sofas in the lounge bar of the Parador De Los Reís Católicos- and yes you’ve guessed it , with a bottle of Albariño!!! We were reminiscing over our Camino.

As we were chatting a couple came in and greeted us with the customary “Bon Camino” and as happens, and has happened all the way, we got chatting . Now both Kathleen and I have survived the Camino with no joint problems nor blisters because we prepared well, bought good socks which are as vital as your boots/shoes, and you all know that we wore our boots in well. We have also kept very quiet about our professions, but in fact , haven’t needed to call on our own expertise! However when we started talking to this couple – Richard and Patricia from San Francisco- the truth came out. They confirmed that neither of them had had any problems with blisters or joint problems, as he was a Podiatrist and she was a nurse! At this point, we confessed that Kathleen wasn’t a butchers shop assistant, and I wasn’t a doctors receptionist! Those of you who know us will be aware that Kathleen is a podiatrist and I’m a physiotherapist! Let me assure you that had we come across anyone in real difficulty on the Camino, we would have offered to help. It has to be said that we saw many people struggle with blisters – but it was down to inappropriate footwear ( socks and shoes). We stopped at a post office to get our last pilgrim passport stamp, and even they sold Compede, so great is the problem!!!

Anyway it transpires that Richard and Patricia had done the whole Camino in two stages – the first from St Jean Pied de Port to Burgos last year, and then just completed the remainder ie Burgos to Santiago! Not content with their achievement, they were having a days rest before walking the Camino Finisterre , a journey of 87 km!!

So after we had said goodnight we went up to our room and to bed. As we made our way out of the main hotel to our room, Kathleen stopped and said “ There’s a rat” I was minded to say “ No , it’s a Siberian hamster” but it was indeed a rat, no mistaking it, and I guess living in luxury!!!

We had a very lovely room with a bathroom ( true to the word, and for the first time this trip, we had a bath!)

Every time I sat on my bed ( right hand side), the headboard rattled. This was of slight concern – last time I slept in a bed with the headboard on the wall, was with the Dearly Beloved in Blackpool . I don’t know how it happened ( and no I really don’t !) – we were sound asleep and rudely awakened with the entire board falling off the wall and landing on us ! Let me just say it was a difficult one to explain to the young lady at reception!

Anyway I digress ( okay, again!), but Kathleen and I were shattered so went to sleep very quickly. Now at some point in the night I must have turned over and the confounded head board rattled as I expected – but then kept on rattling even though I was completely still. I admit I was slightly spooked wondering if we had a supernatural being with us – after all the Parador had been a pilgrim hospital from 1499 – but eventually I built up courage, pushed the board back onto the wall hoping it would stay firmly in place, and went back to sleep !!

Breakfast at the Parador was a spread and a half – with everything from coffee, tea, cereal and fruit to eggs, bacon and sausage, bread, cakes and pastries , broccoli ( you read correctly ) and Cava! Now you may think that having kept up with this blog, Cava would be on our table! No, I’m afraid it was too early for either a glass of sparkly or cold broccoli( despite us both being five a day conscious- we have our limits!!!)

We decided to go out into the square to absorb the atmosphere- there were pilgrims arriving by foot or bicycle, groups of pilgrims relaxing on the floor having arrived earlier in the day and their euphoria was tangible. Of course in amongst them were the groups of tourists on their guided tours! The sun was shining so we too sat on the floor with the other pilgrims ( yes I got down too , hoping desperately that no one would pay attention to the reverse action!!)

I’ve touched before on reasons for taking on a pilgrimage to Santiago- regardless of your starting point. When we were sat having lunch on Friday we chatted to two girls on the next table. They were addicted to the principle of pilgrimage to Santiago and had just completed their third one – part of the Camino del Norte. We didn’t disclose the reasons for taking on our challenge but one of the girls told us of someone she had met, doing their Camino on a bicycle. The route is mountainous so tricky either way but moreso on a bike, and when she asked why he’d chosen the tough way, he told her that he’d just been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer and didn’t have time to do it walking. There are many more stories like that ( forgot tissue warning sorry) – and one of our resolutions as a result of our Camino is never to judge anyone. It is so important to listen to, and really hear, a person’s story before making any judgement .

So our last act of pilgrimage was to attend Mass at 12 midday. Normally this is held in the Cathedral but great restoration work is taking place ( we thought we might go earlier to “ hug the Apostle”) but on Friday the queues resembled those for any scary rollercoaster, so we agreed to wait till our next visit!

Now as any self respecting citizen will know – if there is a popular Mass at 12 midday – it is prudent to arrive in good time to secure a seat, which we duly did.

Mass is a very personal and reverend occasion and I have no intention of going into any detail of the service , apart from telling you it was beautiful, there was the most graceful young nun with the voice of an angel, and the choir was formed from a group of young people with only a guitar as their musical accompaniment.

However I am compelled to tell you about some of our fellow human beings. I have alluded to the fact that we were in our seats in good time. We were near the front in a pew with seven of us – one, an elderly gentleman knelt reverently in prayer.

Then, a cruise ship tour arrived. Everyone coming to the front, looking for a seat and realising probably they were out of luck. Then, unbelievably, one of them started to make their way to sit in our pew, in the space left by said praying gentleman ! I know the kneeler was a little way in front of the seat , but really? – I mean what are people thinking!

Anyway having suggested to her the seat was already taken, and pointing out said praying gentleman, she backed away. Mass began and we all stood for prayer. Then a gentleman ( I use the term loosely – we now refer to him as Mr White Gucci Shoes!) made his way down the aisle and stood next to the end of the already full pew in front of ours. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he then started videoing the service on his phone . I was so close to telling him to have a little respect, put his phone away and move , when fortunately for him we all sat down for the sermon and he had to make a hasty retreat around to the side aisle. Our paths never crossed again!

Our Camino journey ended as it had begun- with a taxi ride in the company of the lovely Miguel – a complete gentleman who remembering us from the beginning of the week, was keen to know how our journey had gone!We’re hoping he’ll be the one waiting for us at Santiago Airport on our next trip!

We’re now both home and have completed Day 1 of our post Camino lives ( we’re both ok by the way) and so sadly this will be the last blog for this particular Camino journey. However I have loved this “ blogging “ business and by the comments I’ve received some of you have too. So I’m going to continue , clearly not on a day to day basis, but as and when. I have so much I’d like to share with you, and if my writings make just one of you smile ( at the moment it’ll be just Kathleen because she’s signed up to it!) that’s good enough for me.

I will always blog under caminoromero.com – the name was chosen carefully for this reason. Remembrance ( Romero =rosemary = remembrance) can relate to many things- people( whether with us or not ) and occurrences (whether happy, sad, funny or frustrating) past or present. So go on I will, and see where it takes me – no six figure sum for me, the satisfaction of making someone smile is worth far more to me. Until next time , thank you , you’ve all been wonderful- and to those of you who’ve donated to Cancer Research on my behalf, my heartfelt gratitude.

How do I begin today’s blog? It is our last day walking – phew I hear some of you say, thank goodness! Mission accomplished, time to put your feet up! We get that, but hope you can understand that that is not how we feel. At times the walking has been challenging- steep mountain tracks that faced us early on when we were newbies, tricky stoney downhill paths and regular hills and dales – but the journey we have both taken, has been far more challenging. Remember our lovely Sister Mary Delores from yesterday? Well in that queue for the loo , with tears falling down her face , she explained to me what the journey meant to her – it touched her very soul, her core and her everything. We understand that because this Camino for us has been more than 115km of putting one foot in front of the other- it has touched the core of each of us in a way that is impossible to explain. I wish we could tell you exactly how it feels but I think I can safely say it has been a wonderful, moving , deep and very profound experience for both of us. So if we had to get up tomorrow and walk another 15 miles – bring it on! Oh, perhaps not – firstly we have to fly home and secondly we donated our trusty poles for some other pilgrims to use- but know they will serve them well!

Anyway as usual dear reader, I’ve digressed. Now where was I – oh yes, how do I begin? Well, thinking about lovely Maria Delores let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start! ( the astute amongst you will see where I’m coming from – for the rest of you think nun and hills that are alive with the sound of music…)

Today it is raining, possibly slightly more than on Tuesday, but we have 6 miles to go and are keen to get to Santiago in good time to sort our Credencial . So after a hearty breakfast ( you may see a doorstop, but I have to say , the Galician bread is something else) I remember the taxi driver telling us on the way to Sarria, that the bread if made on a Monday, tastes as good on the Friday! All I can say is I’ve not tasted any bad or stale bread here- but freshly baked it is heavenly!

Yes I know what you’re thinking – going out in the rain with no coats? This photo was to try and show you what we carried each day, along with our shells- the Frenchman who took the photo slightly failed in that respect, but I hope you get the gist. Immediately after we put on our rain gear and set off on the last leg.

This part of the Camino is much busier with “ day tripper” pilgrims but today would have been Alistair’s 66 th birthday and despite the sporadic crowds, we managed to find time for quiet contemplation and reflection – and enjoyed what will be our last eucalyptus lined walks.

As we neared the outskirts of the city, we passed a small garden with this rather amazing statue- I think you may have to decide what it is meant to be, we suspect an elephant but cannot be sure!

We collected our two required “sellos” for today to complete our Pilgrim passports and walked onward into the old town and the cathedral square. Unbelievably as we approached there was a pilgrim/student/traveller playing the bagpipes and piping us into the square ( as if in reverence to Alistair!) In order to collect your pilgrim certificate, you must attend the pilgrim office , sufficiently stamped passport in hand! However because of the sheer numbers of pilgrims, there is a ticket system ( like you have at the fish counter of the supermarket!) – we duly collected our numbers 840 and 841 and discovered they were currently dealing with number 235! Well dear reader you must be wondering how we were functioning – on previous days we’ve not only had a coffee stop by this time, but also a beer stop. So with time to spare …….

After ample sufficiency of both we headed back to the pilgrim office to check our progress in the queue , only to be distracted on our way by none other than ….a dog!

Eventually we made our way back to the office – still 400 pilgrims ahead of us – so after donating our walking poles, we headed off for lunch. Menu del día for 11€ -croquetas and chipirones ( little squid), beautiful roast chicken, salad and chips, two beers and coffee with a slice of tarta De Santiago ( almond and lemon cake) – so 22€ in total! …..Oh okay – washed down with …..

We then went back to collect our certificates – we have two, one with our names written in Latin can you believe it and the other in English! May I introduce Catharinam Rimmer and Joannam Elisabetham Harding …….at your service! Apparently at mass tomorrow at 12 the priest reads out the names of all the pilgrims who arrived the day before – we’re trying to get our heads round our new names so at least we know when they are called!

We have seen several of our fellow pilgrims whilst here but we finally met up with Ruth and Rachel who I told you about on Tuesday who were walking for their nephew/cousin recently diagnosed with terminal cancer. The water bottle was returned to its rightful owner and we had a lovely couple of hours with them – the courage of people we have met or heard of along the way has been amazing .

We have something to tell you all ….we are planning to walk next year from Santiago to Finister or Fisterra, such is the pull of the Camino! Addictive some say- whatever you chose to call it- we are hooked!

This is not the end ( always remember the off button is at your disposal!) – tomorrow is a new day and there will be plenty more to tell you about.

In preparation for tomorrow here are the two maps!