An RV in Spain
An RV in Spain .....
When we first moved to Spain, over two years ago now, we were accompanied by our venerable boat, Herbie. We had bought Herbie, a 32-foot Corvette back in UK about a year before we moved and had already had some fun times aboard, including a Boxing Day Party and a Birthday party for my dear Lady wife. Initially, the price of moorings here in Spain was jaw-droppingly expensive and the reception at marinas, at best, sullen and at times downright rude. I guess they are doing you an incredible favour, charging you the rental for a five bedroom house to float your boat on sixty square feet of water ….. NOT! However, we found that, yet again, things are different in the Gandia area. The mooring cost was almost the same as the UK, the staff really helpful and pleasant and you always felt welcome. So, this is where Herbie rested. We had several fun trips out in the local area with the family and many happy sojourns sipping gin and beer (not in the same glass) on the sundeck. However, my lovely other half suggested that we were not going to see a lot of Spain from the coast, not to mention further afield. She was, of course, absolutely right, so Herbie was sold off to a delightful French guy and now resides somewhere North of Marseilles. The proceeds were reassigned to the search for a suitable motor home, which was quickly traced to a specialist company on the outskirts of Granada. Monty (although that may change to Harvey …. RV … Harvey …. Never mind) is a 2007 Renault chassis with a Berstner living unit, made in Germany (Vorsprung durch Technic and all that!). At a fraction under seven metres in length, he’s big enough to have a permanent double bed, bathroom with shower, decent sized kitchen and a seating area for four in comfort. Also important on the wish list was sufficient floorspace that we wouldn’t be tripping over Wolfie all the time when confined to the van (quite right too – Ed). A full sized ‘fridge and decent freezer, modern oven and hob and other basic necessities all being on board sealed the deal.
First impressions for me (being a petrol head from birth) were how powerful the engine was. With an all-up weight of close to three and a half tons, it’s no lightweight. Yes, you have to remember to ‘overshoot’ tight corners and junctions and turn in tight once the rear wheels draw level, but that didn’t take more than a few minutes to get my eye in having driven most vehicle from minis to 25 ton trucks. But I had expected to spend some time climbing the long inclines from Granada and this proved not to be the case. The three litre Renault unit is mighty torquey and we only changed down to fifth once on any of the hills.
It wasn’t long before we felt the need to go off for a few days and at our Spanish Lawyers suggestion, we departed for aa camp site he had known since a child some miles in-land from Xativa. It will be cooler there he assured us as we were at that time only reaching down to 25 degrees at night in Gandia. A trouble-free drive took us into the mountains and just under an hour in total later, we found ourselves at the gate to the site. A three-point turn was necessary to get the seven metres of RV through said gate and we were led to our pitch by a chap in a Land Rover. We wondered what on earth we had got ourselves into as we were led along a dusty, tree root ridden, and potholed track into the forest. However, the pitch was HUGE and had electric hook-up and potable water all ready to go. The buildings around us were as close to American Redneck country as you could get. Dilapidated wooden structures, many derived from defunct caravans and with corrugated iron roofs, often patched with canvas sheets. But each had its own small garden/seating area, with fences and gates made from pallets and suchlike. We had purchased a proper all-weather awning to suit Monty and this would be our first use. I set about linking it to the body of Monty, only to find that the “fits 99% of vans,” did not include ours! At this point a lovely elderly lady approached from across the pitch with the wise words, “That won’t fit on there!” Oh, how I delighted in her advice! Long story short, I came up with a cunning plan and we managed to attach the roof section without the special ‘groove’ that 99% of motorhomes have! Once up, it was a super extension to Monty and very nice to sit in with the windows open and eat lunch and read our books. By the way, two months later we found that Monty IS one of the 99% and the special groove was hidden away under the standard awning mechanism! Result!
In actual fact that location was delightful. Rustic and in the woodland indeed it was, but all the people there were so lovely. Most families had children with them and by ten pm, all was quiet and peaceful. The area was perfect for Wolfie’s walks. The showers and loos were fine and the pool absolutely delightful. The restaurant and bar were great and there was even a gym, which, surprise surprise, we …. erm ….. didn’t use! When it came to time to leave, it appeared that we were one of very few Brit RV’s to stay there. I quote the receptionist, “they get to the bottom of the mountain and say, bugger that and go somewhere else.” Well they missed a trick, that’s all we can say. It was delightful.
OK, so now we’re getting to grips with motor-homing ….. erm …. No, actually.
We decided to go WILD CAMPING! Proper, self-sufficient, off the grid, do-it-all-yourself, pioneering, off roaders. We knew where we wanted to go. A little (like tiny) place just south of Cullera, where we had spotted a small grass area with open access, just twenty-five metres from the beach but sheltered by a grassy dune.
On the way there we (carefully) negotiated a very tight right-hand bend which was accompanied by an almighty crash from back in the living accommodation and the immediate pervading smell of gin! Not being in a position to stop, she who must be obeyed went back to check the situation, to report that the fridge door had completely removed itself from the fridge and scattered bottles and containers all over the floor! By the time we reached the pitch area, all had been cleaned up and the debris removed, leaving, actually, not an unpleasant odour throughout the van.
As I turned carefully onto the grass I recollected that I hadn’t noticed so much sand when we found the place with the car and that maybe ………but too late. Up to the axles went Monty! Car: one and a bit tons on wide tyres. Monty: three and a half tons on tyres no wider. Result: stuck! OK, we dig ourselves out then. Shovel? No, why would we bring a shovel. Bucket?; Yeah but you can’t get it underneath! Hmmmmm! (It was much bluer than that – Ed). Anyway, a short while later we are digging away with …….. the spat and the spoon from the frying pan! We nicked Wolfies noodle mats to make runways and foot by foot Monty was s l o w l y reversing out, VERY slowly! So, a group of pensioners who obviously lived across the road had been watching our activities and a couple of chaps came over, one with the traditional Spanish hoe and the other bearing wooden planks. With some banter and cheerful advice and a shove, we freed Monty from the incredible grip of the sand. “You can’t park there,” he said, “the sand is too soft.” I was just beginning to wonder if he was some relative of the lady at the camp site, when he added, “Lot’s of RV’s do that. You need to park there,” pointing just ten metres further over. “You’ll be fine there.”
Thanking the guys profusely and with good natured handshakes we moved ten metres over. Perfect! “I’ll make a cup of tea,” says my beloved. Fabulous, I’ll put up the awning I thought. “The kettle isn’t heating up,” came the wail from inside Monty. I tried the usual procedure. Nope. Went round to check the gas fitting. All fine. Well not quite. No gas, empty cylinder! “Erm …. We have no gas,” I uttered. Long story short, we got quite merry that evening as the only thing we could drink was red wine and beer, and we were VERY thirsty!
But you know what? That little walk to the beach with Wolfie was wonderful. Setting sun, a couple of guys fishing off the rocks, soft sand, rippling sea lapping onto the beach. Beautiful.
You should get a motor home when you get here!
See ya!
