Albacete to Bujaraiza...

Happy birthday to me!

Supermarket was open when we were ready to leave, so we stocked up for the weekend. Given the Easter weekend and the apparent celebrations going on, we had asked some people at the café we stopped in yesterday whether they knew what the opening hours were for the supermarkets over the weekend. They reliably informed us that Saturday morning was good. Win. We popped into the bakery opposite to try and find something sweet to encourage the boys on their way and were not disappointed, neither by the custard filled cakes nor by the lovely girl in the shop who spoke perfect English. Our Spanish is shocking and between us we can pretty much manage to say please and thank you and ask for some beers!

Found a shop selling ciggies – it appears that no-one in Spain smokes menthols so I’ve been making do with Marlboro lights and polo mints! Just as my polos ran out I found a tobacconist! Hurrah! I’m planning to stop smoking when I get back but the stress levels of little roads and a fucking big trailer to cart around is too much to stop now although I did consider it briefly for a nanosecond, I’m not sure the boys can cope with my pmt AND nicotine withdrawals. My poor Dad!

We stopped for lunch just outside Jodar which was full of people, I assume celebrating some sort of Easter Sunday parade. Lunch at the side of the road, not the prettiest spot but it served a purpose.

We arrived at the hotel which was nestled in the most spectacular scenery, surrounded by hills, in front of a lake with a lovely freezing cold swimming pool! It’s my birthday so the boys couldn’t say no when I told them to jump in the freezing cold pool rather than me running them ice baths. Well I say that, Campbell managed to get his arse into the bath in his room rather than the swimming pool so I’m thinking of an appropriate forfeit. He has the nicest bag… I’m coveting it… I’m not sure I’ll get away with that though! Maybe I’ll try and find me one that’s not been rammed with sweaty cycling gear instead.

Dinner was had, well I say dinner, we had meat. It seems that the Spanish, and indeed the French, just like meat on its own. There were no chips or potatoes until we asked and even then, I’d finished my birthday steak by the time the potatoes turned up. The wine was something else. We had asked for a wine list and the waiter asked us whether it was red or white. I think that was the wine list. He appeared back with something that vaguely resembled Blue Nun and they asked me to taste it given its my birthday. I think I pulled off the ‘that’s delicious’ look while the waiter was watching and he continued to pour for everyone else. I suggested they taste it too, just to share the actual horror that was the fizzy vinegar disguised in a wine bottle. Needless to say I don’t think anyone finished it, apart from Dad, who insisted that it ‘wasn’t that bad!’ I’m agreeing to disagree… think cat’s piss!

This little frog/toad was trying to get into our room. I poked him back into the shrubs with the do not disturb sign off someone else's door, not before grabbing my camera and poking him round the right way!