A quick review of possible dates when our son was able to drive us there, showed that a windown of opportunity existed from the very early morning of Friday to return by Sunday around eleven p.m.
We duly booked a chunnel crossing to coincide with the time we had, and off we set. This, on 24 hour notice.
Why didn't we just fly out? Reus airport was the nearest to our destination. However we are a retired couple who only know a smattering of Spanish and no Catalan at all. Which was why our son came with, he having spent four or more years teaching TEFL in Spain.
Catalan is not Spanish. Franco, when he ruled Spain, would not even allow Catalan to be taught in schools, or be found in print anywhere. Which is probably one reason why now Catalans want autonomy from Spain.
The chunnel crossing was really a culmination of a quite extraordinary piece of engineering. You are not aware of actually going under the English Channel. One supposes it must be a journey of perhaps 30 miles, as the exit from the UK is Folkestone and the arrival Calais. The time this takes is 35 minutes of mostly darkness. 35 minutes. That is all. Your drive on and you drive off. Just imagine if the walls gave way and the chunnel flooded!
Refugees have tried walking through it to get into the UK. They managed to get about half way,
before being spotted. How wretched are their circumstances that they are willing to risk walking
along in the dark (maybe had a torch?) next to a fast moving train.
before being spotted. How wretched are their circumstances that they are willing to risk walking
along in the dark (maybe had a torch?) next to a fast moving train.
Our outward journey was as smooth as the sea which the owl and the pussycat sailed on. Our return chunnel journey was a little wobbly, but none the less uneventful.
OK! So we travelled about 3500 miles in 72 hours. That included 2 nights in an hotel plus time to actually view the property.
France does more farming than Spain. Vineyards were plentiful. We took the route north of Paris and then south along the border with Germany and Italy then through Peripignan, where we spent our first night and across the border into Spain.
The hotel accommodation in Peripignan was exactly what we needed. A double room and a single room with bunk beds very clean and tidy. An en-suite easily accessible from both rooms, and a
lovely filling breakfast fuelled us for the next day.
We left slighter later than planned. Our destination was Benifallet on the River Ebro. Thing is, we had no post code, just hand written directions on how to get there. And that was a big mistake. When you go 1700 odd miles to view a property, you really, really need quite specific directions.
lovely filling breakfast fuelled us for the next day.
We left slighter later than planned. Our destination was Benifallet on the River Ebro. Thing is, we had no post code, just hand written directions on how to get there. And that was a big mistake. When you go 1700 odd miles to view a property, you really, really need quite specific directions.
Once off the main motor way, the satnav hiccupped. It got the hump and persisted on staying on 'walking' mode. So we went to Reus, which was south of our destination and had to turn north again. Actually this didn't turn out badly because the hand written directions were from Reus going north.
We crossed the wide tranquil River Ebro at riverside town of Benifallet with its dominant Church and started the climb up to the olive farm. All was well. Our directions were to look out for 3 specific road signs and once we had seen those we were to turn immediately left onto a dirt track. Great, we did that. It was an appalling little stone track that came to an end pretty quickly.
We took to our feet and crunched uphill as far as we could go. Then we went horizontal for as far as possible. Then more uphill. Happily, a gentleman had come to tend his olive trees with his dogs. No doubt he had grave concerns about our presence Once we showed him our map though, he was sympathetic. We needed to go further down the road, he said. (His olive trees were in good shape and from the branches of six or seven, hung the simple fly repeller. A 2 litre plastic bottle with a hole near the top and bait inside at the bottom.)Simple, environmentally friendly and effective.
We took to our feet and crunched uphill as far as we could go. Then we went horizontal for as far as possible. Then more uphill. Happily, a gentleman had come to tend his olive trees with his dogs. No doubt he had grave concerns about our presence Once we showed him our map though, he was sympathetic. We needed to go further down the road, he said. (His olive trees were in good shape and from the branches of six or seven, hung the simple fly repeller. A 2 litre plastic bottle with a hole near the top and bait inside at the bottom.)Simple, environmentally friendly and effective.
There were at least 3 carob trees growing. Their pods have such a pleasing scent. Animals eat them and they were probably the pods which the prodigal son ate when he found himself penniless and friendless. 'And he would gladly have filled his stomach with the pods that the swine ate'.
So off we went. The owner had posted a photograph of the entrance to the property from the main road. Remember we were hundreds of miles away from home and his specific road signs had not
worked.
worked.
We found the photograph entrance. The problem was it was on the wrong side of the road from our first effort. What to do? Try. Well that was fruitless too, and involved a lot of walking. Still no sign
of the farm we had seen in the photographs. Each time we met a dead end we would go back to the entrance and start again. Walking around in the bush trying to find the property, one became aware of the neglect of many many olive groves which were obviously cared for in times past.
Ones shoes took a toll. My husband's soles separated from the upper part of his shoe. He didn't tell us though. It was only at a petrol stop sometime later where we went on to buy lunch that the flap flap flap sound of the leather hit us!
The roadside stops for food and petrol are very much better in Spain than France. Spain gave one more choice a hot meal. France offered the same food in virtually all its petrol stops. Pity really, one could assume they have enough variety in their town shopping to make the road stops more interesting,
of the farm we had seen in the photographs. Each time we met a dead end we would go back to the entrance and start again. Walking around in the bush trying to find the property, one became aware of the neglect of many many olive groves which were obviously cared for in times past.
Ones shoes took a toll. My husband's soles separated from the upper part of his shoe. He didn't tell us though. It was only at a petrol stop sometime later where we went on to buy lunch that the flap flap flap sound of the leather hit us!
The roadside stops for food and petrol are very much better in Spain than France. Spain gave one more choice a hot meal. France offered the same food in virtually all its petrol stops. Pity really, one could assume they have enough variety in their town shopping to make the road stops more interesting,
Providentially, a police car came and parked in the entrance opposite us. In desperation, we eventually decided to elicit their help. One wonders if they were considering ourselves to be up to no good!
Our son's Catalan was very useful. The Police were very ready to help. We needed to turn off on their side of the road, in the entrance to where they were parked. And we were to keep left. Keep left
all the time. I guess it is OK to say 'keep left' if you know where the main track actually is.
After many trips on the network of dirt tracks that spread out like the branches of a tree, we finally, literally, found one which went up another hill, at the top of which was the T junction we had looked out for.
This was IT. Take a right turn and shortly after we were there! In retrospect I guess, we would have
been in a more positive frame of mind when viewing the property. The location was brilliant. Quiet,
peaceful with a gentle cool breeze. No-one could fault it.
The house though was disappointing. Probably because the resident caretaker had moved in and his belongings were scattered everywhere. There was not much leg room to get through it all, making the layout of the house difficult to visualise.
The terraces of olives and almonds still existed but needed care as the overgrowth seemed to be what
Had benefitted most from the years of non occupation of the premises.
We were there for about 90 minutes. We enjoyed the water from the cisterna on the premises, a very big plus because drinking water is scarce in remote mountain districts.
One can however get agricultural water to the premises fairly easily. The water comes from the River
Ebro. Solar power drove the lighting system. A stable block for horses completed the building on the property. All in all, it was a very viable proposition for what we wanted to do.
Our journey back was again, a rush. This time we crossed the neck of Spain/France entering France from the Pamplona, the bull fighting city of Spain. From Pamplona to Bordeau then Tours, Rouen, Calais. It was fortunate that we had bought a road map because our satnav wanted to send us to Paris all the time. By choosing the city we wanted to go to we avoided Paris. Rouen is on the other side of the river Seine, and there is no direct bridge crossing. The road jiggles around until you point to Le Havre and along the way you get back onto the road from Rouen.
We got to Calais early. Our booking was the last that evening, but there must have been fewer passengers because we were put on an earlier hour crossing. We were extremely grateful for that because it meant an earlier arrival in Oxford, our son's final destination.
Why oh why does the UK block off parts of the M1 and M25 at night. There is NO warning of this. Suddenly you find yourself unable to continue your journey and are given no clear instructions on how to get to one's destination.!! It is so difficult to navigate around London at night. Now if I were in charge of the Department of road workers.... LOL
Have to say, the Lord Jesus ensured we had a safe journey. Our prayer was, "make our journey safe both for ourselves and others, please Lord Jesus.
all the time. I guess it is OK to say 'keep left' if you know where the main track actually is.
After many trips on the network of dirt tracks that spread out like the branches of a tree, we finally, literally, found one which went up another hill, at the top of which was the T junction we had looked out for.
This was IT. Take a right turn and shortly after we were there! In retrospect I guess, we would have
been in a more positive frame of mind when viewing the property. The location was brilliant. Quiet,
peaceful with a gentle cool breeze. No-one could fault it.
The house though was disappointing. Probably because the resident caretaker had moved in and his belongings were scattered everywhere. There was not much leg room to get through it all, making the layout of the house difficult to visualise.
The terraces of olives and almonds still existed but needed care as the overgrowth seemed to be what
Had benefitted most from the years of non occupation of the premises.
We were there for about 90 minutes. We enjoyed the water from the cisterna on the premises, a very big plus because drinking water is scarce in remote mountain districts.
One can however get agricultural water to the premises fairly easily. The water comes from the River
Ebro. Solar power drove the lighting system. A stable block for horses completed the building on the property. All in all, it was a very viable proposition for what we wanted to do.
Our journey back was again, a rush. This time we crossed the neck of Spain/France entering France from the Pamplona, the bull fighting city of Spain. From Pamplona to Bordeau then Tours, Rouen, Calais. It was fortunate that we had bought a road map because our satnav wanted to send us to Paris all the time. By choosing the city we wanted to go to we avoided Paris. Rouen is on the other side of the river Seine, and there is no direct bridge crossing. The road jiggles around until you point to Le Havre and along the way you get back onto the road from Rouen.
We got to Calais early. Our booking was the last that evening, but there must have been fewer passengers because we were put on an earlier hour crossing. We were extremely grateful for that because it meant an earlier arrival in Oxford, our son's final destination.
Why oh why does the UK block off parts of the M1 and M25 at night. There is NO warning of this. Suddenly you find yourself unable to continue your journey and are given no clear instructions on how to get to one's destination.!! It is so difficult to navigate around London at night. Now if I were in charge of the Department of road workers.... LOL
Have to say, the Lord Jesus ensured we had a safe journey. Our prayer was, "make our journey safe both for ourselves and others, please Lord Jesus.
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