Azul Suances

... swift action resulted in them being relocated underneath the van, despite the protestations of Lymºs board, which proceeded to lash out and cause him bodily harm about the head. (A: ha ha ha !!) However, all is forgiven and we all lived to surf another day.

A very pretty (cobbled alleyways, olde worlde stylee, cows in a field with not only udders, but also tuneful bells which, when youºve got a dozen, made quite a din a la Mike Oldfield) little town, unlike the campsite which was essentially a sodden piece of grass, for which we were charged Euro 22, for the pleasure of a night's shut-eye.

Leaving San Sebastian behind we drove to Santander to spend the night. With nothing more then the car, no place to stay and no plan. As luck turns out we found a cheap Pension to stay at, and ate in their quaint little restaurant, treated to warm hospitality, good food, and free Grappa and Lemonchelo

... of joy if that beautiful day ever becomes reality!

Did lots of wandering around the centre upon returning to Santander, and noticed the Mercado del Este was still open - the bar and cafe were hopping! And so was I, because the turnstile to the pay toilets took my money without letting me in, so I had to hop over it to do my business.

After, I took a bus back to El Sardinero and wandered over to the stadium, where an immigrant fair ...

... The mediocre melon gelato I got from Heladeria Italiana didn't help either, as it was a little too creamy, and not as light and refreshing as I had hoped.

Santander ... I originally thought it would be a little tacky, given that it's quite a famous tourist destination, at least for the Spanish and Europeans. Like La Coruna, Leon, and Burgos, I did have a bit of a reason for coming here (in addition to beautiful Spanish senoritas ...

... only at the distance between boundary of the centre and the boundary of El Sardinero.

Almost the entire walk between El Sardinero and the centre is along the ocean, either along the beaches of El Sardinero, or the harbourfront paseo in the centre. It's less touristy in the centre than it is in El Sardinero. I continued walking past the centre, over to Calle Vargas - there are still a few tourists there, but it had the feel of a street ...

... out on an opportunity to try my ever improving
Spanish and full of the confidence that a hard shove towards the bar
from Virg brings, I managed to enquire to the ingredients of each
Pincho, promptly forget them and then just order a random sample,
safe in the knowledge that I could always go back for more. And
indeed we did. Santander keeps you entertained for longer than the
dolphin-spotters and caravaners would have you think as they stay for
Santander, Cantabria, Spain and Canary Islands warm

... information place. I discover to everyone's disappointment that we had chosen to visit on the one day of the week that the Guggenheim is not open. Bilbao is still worth a look and the outside of the Guggenheim is at least impressive.

Our house in Pechon for the next 6 days has a view of the red tiled roofs of the village and the sea and we watch cloud sail across the sea. Its absolutely silent in the village at night and shutters on ...

Monday 11th May 2009



And so it begins. Woke this morning, and a multitude of times through the night, to the sweet symphony of snooring in the recling seat lounce aboard the dreamliner Pont Aven. Imagine a Hells Angels meet cascading into your left ear with your right ear pressed against the gates of hell and you have a rough idea of the sounds i was greeted into the day by ...

... tries desperately not to puke. The whole table erupts in laughter as he says, "This is not gonna work for me." I kid you not, I was in tears laughing so hard. "Its not the taste, its the texture..." he says. No joke. Its like fat mixed with tongue. Thats the texture. Tons of laughing. I see Ella laughing hard too, but also a twinkle in her eye as she watches me cracking up. I don't think she has ever seen me laugh to tears before. Good times. Back home, and some sleep.