Safe Return Doubtful

I left Caudiel, northwest of Valencia on Tuesday morning and since then have travelled steadily north through Castellón, then the southeast of Aragon and into Catalonia, an area which I have visited before and is a favourite of mine with its little villages, hills and valleys, olive groves and maze of old tracks and trails that weave through the mountains. I need to spend more time here. Without the Schengen restrictions I certainly would. I’ve had some decent weather in the last few days, there are signs of spring with blossom in the trees, but in a few weeks it will be my prefect climate. There’s another big storm hitting Andalucia today, Leonardo, but there is no effect from it up here in the north. 

I filled up with LPG which I use for cooking on leaving Caudiel. It took 5 litres, at a cost of just less than 5 euros, which is what I have used since I last filled up, in the south so Spain 65 days ago. The tank is 25 litres and probably holds about 15 litres, so I had more left than I thought. 

My first stop, on Tuesday evening, was at Albocàsser. These towns all have olive cooperatives where local farmers can take their olives for processing and sale. On arrival I walked through the old town,  which has a rich history dating back to the 1200s when its first settlers were Moors who farmed olives.

The following day I wandered around some local hills, determining that I needed to spend more time here in the near future. 

I then drove through some splendid country along a famous old trail called The Silent Route though up above 1000 metres it was just a few degrees above zero. It would be busy at weekends with motorcycles, and in the summer with many visitors. Typically though, take one of the many turns possible on rough trails and peace and solitude await even in the highest of seasons. I stayed Wednesday at Torrevelilla where I had spend two nights in late November on my way south. It’s another small rural town nestled in the hills with lots of history. I was there because I hoped to get the ongoing issue with the van’s engine light sorted; keen readers will remember I had tried and failed to do this on the way down, at Alcañiz and at Lorca. I had made an appointment at Alcañiz for the following morning, but again failed. I think I know what the problem is, but thought they agreed to order the pressure sensor ahead of time, they hadn’t. It takes at least 4 days for a part to arrive here, which seems a while, considering that in Shap my local garage gets two deliveries of parts each day. It may be why it’s much cheaper here.. They ran the diagnostics though, and it materialises that the issue is with the sensor, as opposed to the switch, which they replaced last time, I will just have to arrange for a place to have the part ready for when I can make an appointment, which may well not be until the south of England in 4 weeks now. 

From Alcañiz I drove 90 minutes back into the hills and the small town of Bovera on the western edge of the Parc Natural de la Serra de Montsant. Like many towns here there is overnight parking for vans and motorhomes by the sports facilities. There is an outdoor pool here, free electric hook up and in the winter they leave the changing rooms open for toilets and showers, at no charge, which I haven’t seen anywhere else. The weather was fine, mid teens in the afternoon, and mid single figures at night. It was the start of the Six Nations, though a disappointing one sided affair, the impressive Paris pre match enhanced by a 20 minute thunderstorm outside. 

After a couple of hours out in the surrounding hills I managed another 90 minutes driving around the city of Lleida and into what just about qualify as the foothills of the Pyrenees, and the small town of Os de Balaguer, the sort of place that will be busy from March onwards but for now, I am the only person in the aire, though it is a weekend, and I would be surprised if a few more weekenders don’t arrive late this afternoon from the nearby cities.