Our grand tour of southern Spain February 10th Day Twenty -eight Malaga

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Can you survive 60mph winds in a motorhome pitched only 20 yards from the beach and a stormy sea?

We are about to find out. The winds are rising fast – gale force gusts lashing the palm trees along the seafront at Cala De Moral?  Palm fronds torn from their high crowns litter the promenade. Tumultuous waves crash onto the grey sand beaches with brutal force. Out at sea it’s an angry scene full of white horses and spray being whipped off wave crests. Big 8 – 10’ ‘dumping’ waves or as we geographers call them – ‘destructive waves’ pummel the beach.



And the worst hasn’t arrived yet!

The air is full of wind-blown sand. An excellent skin exfoliant for those stupid enough to attept a walk along the prom – like us, for example! 

My face is gritty. My mouth feels gritty. My sunglasses are opaque. And Maggie ahead of me is just about able to stand upright in to the wind. To walk to windward is to develop a purposeful stride and a ‘lean into it’ angle of around 45 degrees.

We give up and duck into the local café on the sea front. Its outdoor canopy is creaking violently, its roll down plastic see-through panels flap at their bases but it is a welcome haven.

Sat at a white wooden scrubbed tale, we walk a chihuahua on a very long lead go airborne. Looking rather like an animated kite about to take off, its owner struggles to collect it securely under her arm. We shouldn’t laugh, but it is funny and the facial expression on the dog is priceless. It was, genuinely, for a few moments, weightless, airborne at about 4’ off the ground and parallel to the sand obliterated prom pathway. 

The waves have become constructive types in this part of the beach. They break a long way out and roll in – mountainous tables of white foaming angry, bubbling, frothing and hissing water. It’s the sound of several jet engines revving up all at once. Deafening is the term we are looking for. An impressive, rather scary display of the forces of nature!

And the promised storm force winds still haven’t arrived yet!

A long palm leaf whooshes eastwards like a giant tumbleweed blown across the desert landscape. The authorities are going to have a lot of cleaning up to do in the next few days.

The Patron, young, professional, great English speaker, tells us he cannot remember it ever being this stormy before. He tells us all the locals are in awe and they all have a great respect for the sea because this is the area where the Mediterranean currents running eastwards meet the westerly inflowing currents from the Atlantic – all squashed through the narrow straits of Gibraltar.

Maggie suggests we return to Bryony and retrieve the kite we carry onboard. Funny girl! I think its a cunning ploy on her behalf to claim the life insurance on me. It expires when I reach 67 and she is running out of time! I’m on a ticking downward clock. Apparently I will be buried in the garden under some very rare plants because my ecologist daughter has told her – rare plants can have environmental protections placed on them that prevent others from digging them up!

The homemade apple crumble and ice cream is delicious. Patron won’t share the entire recipe but it involves cinnamon and copious supplies of rum and a biscotti crumble. Its delicious! Expensive but very yummy!

Its mid-afternoon and the glare of sun slowly sinking west reflects off the stormy seas – a brilliant glinting that hurts  your eyes. Winds are still building and the fury of the outer seas has to be seen to be believed – wall to wall white horse crests and airborne spume and spray. Gulls are out in force wheeling around, facing into the wind but going nowhere, other than backwards. I think they are really enjoying themselves Perhaps it is the avian equivalent of surfing?

We pay the bill and our friendly patron introduces us to his toddler son who is attempting to pull four large cartons of milk out of the car boot and into the café. He gives us a flyer promoting the weekend’s live music events. This café has a laid back’ surfy’ vibe. Think typical far Cornwall coastal café.

Today’s journey down the N340 and N 340a has been delightful – great coastal views and we stopped several times to watch the awesome nature fury scenery unfolding.

Our campsite is full but the welcome is warm and there is a really good briefing on how to get to Malaga and where to go and what to see. You collect a key for one of the showers and its 1 euro for 3.5 minutes. 6 amp hook up, reverse polarity one. Pitch 63from the storm, one row back from the  sea front but nice views between vans in front of us. A 20 second walk to the beach gate and access onto the prom. 



One point to note – if you are approaching along the N340 from the east – do not take exit three. Straight off the slip road, you run into a 2.3m high bridge because you have to turn back onto the returning carriageway to access the site. Go down to junction 4 instead. Saves crunching the top of your nice shiny motorhome!

Back at camp and Bryony is very proudly sporting her new sofa cover. A patchwork quilt made by Maggie. Her very first attempt at this new found skill. It is beautiful and while I like the blanket cover on the other sofa, I rather secretly hope Maggie will make another quilt using similar colour fabrics and design but perhaps different patterns. I think that the two small cushions can stay the colour they are but the larger ones need new covers to pick out colours from the quilt.  Meanwhile after 12000 miles worth of wear and tear we both agree the green floor mats are beginning to look thread bare and will need replacing for our next trip out.

 


The door mat, which has been sliding forward into the footwell,  has been solved by Velcro! So now I won't step on the edge only to fall down into the footwell. We need to find some mat to fit between the front seats. What do you do about floor coverings? Drop us a comment below and share your tips 

Warm sunlight oozes through the side windows, there’s a gentle rocking motion in the wind; it’s inducing a sleepy stupor!

Later on, now in the evening and I am logged on watching the Dinghy Cruising Association annual general meeting. Business has been done and now our guest speaker is ‘zooming’ in to give an extraordinary lecture. Howard Rice is a very famous small boat sailor and adventurer who has canoed around Cape Horn and sailed several small boats around Patagonia and the Straights of Magellan. His talk, as always, is inspirational. The weather he faced on his last trip is truly terrifying. It’s a little surreal really,, listening to him whilst outside winds are rising to 65 mph and sand is flying across the skylights!

Useful information:

Route: A7

Distance: 28 miles

Costs: 58 euros three nights campsite fees

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