This week has seen me reach the pinnacle of my weird and wonderful life over the past two months. It has also seen me sleep in seven different beds since last Saturday. Without a doubt, right now, my actual walking experiences are far more interesting than my “virtual” walking experiences.
So let’s go back to last Saturday. I woke up in Kenmore in Perthshire (first bed). I then drove south to Harrogate where I stayed with our friends on Saturday night and Sunday night (second bed). On Monday, my wife and I drove down to a hotel in Oxford as my wife had an appointment there on Tuesday (third bed). We then made our way across to Buckingham for Tuesday night and Wednesday night (fourth and fifth bed). On Thursday we were staying in The Premier Inn in St Albans (sixth bed), as on Friday morning we met up with my daughter and her friend, grabbed an Uber to Heathrow, and flew out to Malaga, courtesy of British Airways. By the time we arrived there it was nearly 8pm. We sorted the car hire, got lost in the airport looking for the car, and eventually drove the 50 miles or so to Frigiliana where I am now. We managed to find a restaurant prepared to serve us at nearly 11pm (try doing that in England outside Theatre Land in London), and I finally crawled into my seventh bed at 1am.
Today is Saturday and it has been bliss. A leisurely stroll around Frigiliana in the morning was followed by a quick trip into nearby Nerja where the two younger girls escaped to the beach whilst Anne and I strolled and strolled and strolled and strolled around the town. Lunch was a tuna salad with some anchovies in oil, and I am now writing this in the early evening sunshine at a bar overlooking the most cracking view you could imagine. I’ve escaped here to write my blog and have a beer whilst the three girls get their mojos sorted for going out tonight for a meal. And that completes the circle. My pinnacle has been reached.
Tomorrow we are off to the famous Nerja Sunday market before getting back into the car and heading off to Granada for three days before we fly back home. But more of that in my next blog.
The plan now is simple. Back to England on Wednesday to stay with my daughter in Buckingham until Saturday morning. We have then rented a cottage in Skipton for one week during which time we hope to exchange and complete on our new home near Harrogate. And that will mark the end of our fabulous, often scary, extremely close to panic, marvellous road trip.
So let’s pick up on some of the funnier and weirder things that have happened this week. First up, let’s talk Uber. This revolutionary service is quite frankly a marvellous idea for the paying punter. You pay when you book, you know who the driver is, you know the car registration number. The whole concept is good. But where did the name “Uber” come from? My own personal feelings is that Uber is a great name for a new currency. How many Uber’s did you get to the pound. That will be twenty Uber’s please. A far better use of the name than a taxi service.
Whilst driving through Scotland last week you cannot fail to notice the number of farmers who place what looks to be a perfectly good motor vehicle bang in the middle of one of their fields. Does anyone know why they do this? Is it a Highland tradition? Does the practice scare off a certain type of vermin only found in Scotland? Or is there a parking problem in Scotland? I would love to know why they do this so if anyone knows, please let me know.
I now have under 100 miles to walk before I “virtually” reach John O’Groats so a couple of days ago I contacted the FOCAL treasurer to see what monies has been raised to date. And with monies pledged, the total remains at around £450. I feel sure many of you are waiting for me to complete the walk, but can you make an old man happier by pledging your intention to make a donation. After all, as you can see, I am running out of things to write.
But I will be back.