Call me Ishmael

Ahoy!
At 10:00 pm on April 4th, we sails for far Bilbao, by the Bay of Biscay, an' Faith is prognosticatin' that we is bein' sick as parrots an' confined to our swayin' standard class hammocks in the bilges on account o' the likely heavy seas an' fearsome gales.

But not me, mateys! Oh no, I is determined, come typhoon or tornado (well a bit o' wind, whatever!), to climb to the very t'gallants and go a-whale-spottin', dam' yer eyes!

What is it yo're blatherin' about Mel , you old scallywag, I is hearin' you mutter?
Has ye been at the rum (or, worse still, 'as ye been in the apple barrel again), or are ye jus' sailin' under too many years?
Nay lads,

I is no ancient mariner who stoppeth one of three.
Tho' I has a beard that's grey, 'tis true,
But that's nought to do with ye!


By the powers, the mighty great beasts be as thick as lice in a lighterman's vest in them thar waters, they say, an' I means to see me some o' the lubbers!
My informants is a'tellin' me that we's likely to see dolphins an' porpoises at least, and, if we's lucky, pilot whales and more besides, yoho.



O'course, I is also keepin' a close watch out for scurvy, morose peg-legged swabs, too, an' stayin' well clear o' them!

So, lads, don't be forgettin' yer old deck mate; wish 'im a calm sea or a strong stomach, an' 'ope that he can keep up this preposterous nautical-type talk long enough to reach the end o' this post without 'aving 'ad to ... oh bugger!!

This is better than shredding paper!

In Spain, we'll be staying in an apartment at a converted cortijo near Antequera, a town about 40 km north of Malaga.

The closest natural attractions are El Torcal,
a limestone outcrop that's also a nature reserve
and El Chorro, a limestone gorge that's been cut by the Guadalhorce river.
Both of El Torcal and El Chorro have trails and footpaths to explore....



... so there's no excuse at all for staying unfit.



Of course, Faith is ecstatic about the botanising possibilities that will be right on our doorstep. By going at this time of year we're aiming to get plenty of spring flowers before they're burned off by the sun; last time we came to Spain, however, we had bitter winds and rain in May!

All the locals said that the previous weeks had been glorious, and the day that we left for home was pretty good, too. I'll pack the waterproofs, just in case!






With a month to play with, we also plan to cross over into Morocco, for a few days at least. This will be a chance to imagine what Andalucia might have been like under Arab rule. Chefchaouen, in the Rif mountains east of Tangiers, is one of the places that the Moors and Jews from Spain settled after they were expelled by Ferdinand and Isabella in 1492.

"'Reality,' sa molesworth 2, 'is so unspeakably sordid it make me shudder.'"

Less than two weeks of work left, and lots to do. I've begun clearing out the huge amount of paper that's accumulated over 4 years of working from home; the ideal of a paperless office is certainly no more than that.

I've decided that I'll dispose of at least one piece of material (responsibly of course, "hem, hem") every time I go downstairs from my office.

I've got two weeks' leave before I officially finish work on March 31st, but Faith carries on to the bitter end; this feels rather strange, but it does give time to think about tying loose ends. "They" will come to collect the company car tomorrow, and on March 31st all of my I.T. equipment has to be returned. No more broadband after that!

We live in a land of weather forecasts and breakfasts that "set in".

Here we are (Mel and Faith) on the Portella Blanca pass, one foot in Languedoc and one foot in Cerdanya, at the crux of a 10 day backpacking trip through the Pyrenees last summer. We were walking the Route des Bonhommes (the Cathar Route) between Foix in France and Baga in Spain. Portella Blanca is one of the mountain passes that the last Cathar "good men" used, to cross between the two countries undetected among the annual migrations of shepherds and their livestock.


We've almost always taken holidays where our itinerary has been open 'till the last minute, but this trip was especially memorable, and so we decided that, before night begins to fall and we're forced to camp, we'd better do some more travelling. Shall it be Saga Holidays or independent travel?

We've chosen the second option.

And so, by the end of March we'll both have quit our jobs and set off on a journey that will take in Andalucia and Morocco in April and May, then Thailand and Australia between June and September. There is a theme - or at least a motive - that unites the two halves of the trip, and it involves satisfying an ambition to experience two mediterranean springtimes in the same year ... hmmm we shall see.