If you're in Norfolk the weekend of January 30th and 31st, why not consider a trip to JanFest at Greentrees Adventurestore in East Dereham? I'll be there and would love to meet you.
http://www.greentrees-adventurestore.co.uk/community/2294/janfest-2016-dates-announced/

 We enjoyed Rota, what with a quiet secluded car park, an unlimited supply of freshwater and respite from the brisk westerly winds, what was there not to like? So what could else should we crave? This time it was the burgeoning issue of laundry. At this point we're under threat of disappearing under a heap of smelly socks and other unmentionables. Just up the coast from Rota is the town of Sanlucar de Barrameda (Map below) and here we were sure a big fat shiny launderette would present itself, and I could strip off just like the bloke in the Levis ad to get all my clothes clean. We followed the directions to the Vicarious listing of San Lucar. This was a large square car park with many motorhomes in situ. Our Lonely Planet Guide had boasted a sublime view of Donana National park across the estuary but I didn't get any sublime feelings, it just seemed busy and I hadn't seen any evidence of a launderette. Our main focus of the trip today! So, what does a motorhomer do in a situation such as this? Look again, of course. Snoop Dog had the answer! Another Aire between Sanlucar town and Chipiona. By the way, we had stopped briefly at Chipiona on the way from El Puerto, following glowing reports from my sister Catherine and Mike's Dad. We couldn't see anywhere to park a palace, or find a launderette so had moved on to Sanlucar. Don't worry - I'll get to the point now.

The description was good at this Aire and Snoops had included it in the Camperstop listing - Co-ordinates 36*45'43.0"N, 6*23'46.2*W. (The * equals a degree symbol btw) There was even a reference to a washing machine for 3 euros a load. We had to get there. It was back along the road to Chipiona. As soon as we pulled up, a Spanish man bounded up to the motorhome just like a cheery Labrador dog.

"Welcome! Pleeese, you are most welcome here. I am Alfonso. Do you need anything? The market closes soon- it's Sunday"

What a lovely man. So welcoming. While Mike fiddle-arsed about getting the van ship-shape and Mike fashion I went to the shop. It was located 400m up from the Aire and I couldn't stop smiling, Yes - there was an open drain down the middle of the street but there was something inexplicable about the place that made me grin from ear to ear. I arrived at the shop before closing and it was stuffed full of locals. All seemingly getting their fill of Sunday gossip before heading home for lunch. 

We're still here, by the way. Mike has an appalling cold. The washing takes an hour in the machine but Alfonso has anticipated our every need. There's a covered area for the washing lines in case of rain. Of which there has been plenty over the past 24hrs.

If you're ever in this neck of the woods, I urge you to come here. Alfonso, as I already said, provides the most amazing warm welcome. He's trying to make this place work, and if effort plus welcoming friendliness is the winning formula, he definitely deserves the prize. The site includes free wi-fi (no, I'm not a slave to it), showers, toilet, dump and fresh water all for 8 euros per 24hrs. 5 amp electric comes in at 2 euros a night. Alfonso's previous life was as a surveyor in the building game and we all know what happened there do't we?  

Anyway, this is our roost for now. Mike still has an appalling cold which dominates every snot ridden breath. I'm using mind over matter techniques to combat the germs (yes...I'll let you know how that particular theory pans out) 
TTFN,
​Ali and Mike xxx

 2 nights in Conil, but now the toilet needs emptying. Luckily there was a fuel station on the dual carriageway just outside Conil. We filled with fuel (which, incidentally, is less than a Euro a litre at the moment). There was a gents on the outer wall of the filling station and so Mike was able to chuck it down the pan discreetly there.

Mike had picked up a flyer at the marina at La Linea advertising motorhome parking at El Puerto De Santa Maria - just across the bay from Cadiz. It boasted 24hr security but nothing else facilities-wise. I entered the co-ordinates into Snoops but they would have lead us to a town near Granada. I entered them again - same thing. Conveyed the information to Mike, who had to enter the co-ordinates himself twice (why is that????) and so we had to fall back on that age old safety net - common sense. Yes! Fortunately I haven't lost the ability to work things like this out all by myself and using the map on the flyer we got to El Puerto on the C32 bypass, got to the out of town shopping centre and picked up Aire signs from there.

For our visit to Cadiz we took the Catamaran across the bay. Apparently quicker by train or bus but I reckon not half so much fun. We wandered around Cadiz which was lovely (photos below) and back to El Puerto for the evening.

El Puerto is a large town who's faded buildings speak of a more illustrious past. In fact it was so affluent and important back in the day that Christopher Columbus sailed from here in the Santa Maria. There was no noticeable gorgeousness in the bars here as I found in Conil, the only point of note that Mike was ordering fun-sized baby beers, completely dwarfed by my G and T's. Another average meal at a Mexican restaurant rounded off the evening.

This part of Spain is where the sherry comes from and I had a fanciful theory that at the end of one of their long haul sailing journeys half way round the globe, looking for somewhere new to exploit, someone had a keg of wine left over. Taking a sip, a certain individual pronounced that this elderly wine wasn't bad - "lob some sugar into this oxidised slop, they'll still buy it".But how wrong was I? No, no, no - they're special grapes, cultivated here and have been on the go since Shakespeare was a glint in his grandfather's eye. (Or possibly Great Grandfather - I don't pretend to be a history buff). As we left El Puerto I saw the Osbourne sherry Bodega which reminded me to mention where this alcoholic aperitif hails from.

Photos from our walk around Cadiz below. By the way - you don't pronounce the zed. So saying Cadiz would be more like cardy without the gan.

The following morning we used all the information at our finger tips and following the printed page this time,  referred to our aires book of Spain and Portugal and headed for Rota the following morning. 

Now, sorry Vicarious, but you could have made more of Rota. The entry is factual and correct and Rota at this time of year was definitely a seaside town at rest. We had a walk towards the town and came across a boutique hotel that clearly catered for Americans. What lead us to think this? Well, there were a couple of clues - an American flag flying outside a boutique hotel type establishment and the Tex-Mex menu got us on the trail. Rota is right next to an enormous US Naval base and I must confess I was looking forward to admiring some hunky servicemen. Now, sorry US Navy. I managed to persuade Mike that we could go out on a Saturday night and benefit from US dining standards but where were the hunks? Conil beat Rota hands down on that score. My burger was fab, I can't take that away and the toilets were impeccable - in fact I could have eaten my burger in there and had no hygeine concerns. But - I do question my powerrs of reasoning on a regular basis. Why did I order a burger? This Western facing coastline isn't just fabled for surfing and all sporty pursuits relating to surf and a prevailing wind. NO! Tuna. So many tuna were landed here at one time, observers from towers could visualise them. Conil even had a depiction of Tuna fishing on the tiles outside the church. I could have had a great slab of this wonderful meaty fish, but I didn't. Oh well, that's just the way it was.

Next stop Sanlucar de Barrameda. Another time folks.  

Back in 2007 we stopped in Tarifa and had fond memories of the place. Heading there from La Linea was an easy drive but when we got there we couldn't find any beach front camping. We decided to stop at the campsite we'd used back then. It would give an ideal opportunity to get some laundry done, and for me to fill my boots with wi-fi and get up to date with the blog. Oh, how such plans went straight down the drain. The site was waterlogged, pitches narrower than we remembered. We couldn't get a place on the outer wall which would have afforded great views of the beach and the cows on the adjacent fields. Hideously expensive at 23 Euro a night and even worse for Mike, they wouldn't negotiate a deal. In the end he decided we should stop only to find out later that the washing machine had been broken since March. That night we both slept badly, a huge storm blew in, the motorhome was rocking and rolling in the wind and the sea was so noisy, it sounded as if waves were due to break right over us. 

Having survived the night, the next day dawned blustery but no rain and so we set off to find somewhere to park for free. A detour lead us through a sand dune at the end of the bay heading North West. After turning round we saw motorhomes parked a little further round the bay. We returned back to the main road and up the lane which we presumed would have those motorhomes parked at the end. The lane got progressively narrower and more water-logged. Then the final 10 ft (ish) were just a muddy quagmire. There was no way our front wheel drive Rapido would make it so we had no option but to turn round. Mike did a four point turn and returned back up the lane . The front wheels lost traction at one point but he maintained a slow and steady speed - no revving as this could cause the front wheels to spin faster and make the situation worse. 
Luckily, we made it back to the main road unscathed and decided to stop for lunch. While we relaxed over our hot drinks I did a quick search for somehere using our Sat. Nav. 

Now, a quick pause for a Sat. Nav. update. Brief. Don't worry. I always had an allergy to Sat. Navs - resented a machine telling me where to go but I've hauled myself out of the Jurassic Period and now find one jolly useful. We bought a Snooper Ventura Pro. It has Caravan Club, ACSI, Bord Atlas, Camper Stop, Alan Rogers, pre-loaded and we affectionately call him Snoop Dog. This gives Mike loads of opportunities to do bad impressions of what he thinks a rapper would sound like. I refer him to Snoops which sounds rather cuter in my view. We can also enter GPS co-ordinates and have entered the dimensions of the motorhome. This means that if we approach a road or apperture too narrow a loud series of warning sounds are emitted. 'Gets Snoop Dog yelpin' like a houn' dawg'. As Mike would say. 

Anyway, now back to our lunch stop. I found a place listed with the Camper Stop entries at a place called Conil De La Frontera. A free beach front car park. What a gem of a place. Photos below. We were able to stop there overnight as we were parked, not camping. If we had set out chairs and similar paraphanalia we would have been judged as camping and quite likely moved on. In the event we stayed two nights. Enjoyed a great walk along a coastal path. 

Our second night coincided with Three Kings. This is celebrated by the Spanish and occurs on the 6th of January. We sometimes refer to the is Twelth Night. Unfortunately we were a bit dozy and missed the procession and the band which had performed in the afternoon. When we did make it out the children and families had all gone home and the bars were packed. What a treat for little ole me! The men in the bars were all  gorgeous. It was quite ridiculous. Luckily Mike didn't feel threatened by my pronouncements (or if he did, he didn't let on) and it wasn't just the drink talking. The noticeably handsome hombres were evident in our first bar. Rather like the comedy sketch I was drooling 'Oooh - young man'. Women of a certain age, I know. Anyway, a little eye candy never did an old bird any harm. Live music was provided of an incredibly high standard. The first bar had a man and woman - she was singing and he was playing the guitar. They were so good Mike was lead to pronounce that the guitarist was like a magician. He was right, how is it possible to play the guitar, sing and bang the wood of the guitar (don't know technical term) all at the same time and make such a brilliant noise? A disappointing pizza rounded off the night. But what a great place. Would love to go there again. 

New Years' Day dawned hot and sunny with cloudless blue skies. We had a long walk towards the coast and saw a collection of motorhomes parked at the football pitch for just 3 Euros a night. We even spotted a Wildax, the owner of which later told us that although cheap, the pitch location had been noisy at night with car drivers performing hand break turns on the sandy carpark into the early hours. The day was so gorgeously hot and sunny it lulled us into a false sense of never ending sunshine and unfortunately it didn't last. The next morning dawned grey, with huge clouds swirling over and obscuring the summit of the rock. It would be pointless to go up there on such a day so we decided on the wet weather pastime of shopping. Lured by the novelty of a Morrison's supermarket we braved the wet, windy weather and headed back over the border. Morrison's didn't disappoint and we stocked up on a few British items but didn't go too crazy. Having only been away for a few weeks we aren't craving any essentials as yet. What did take us by surprise on the shopping front was the Euroski. Just before the immigration/customs is a branch of the Spanish supermarket chain. We popped in to get some milk and were astounded to see a weird cultural mis-match on the shelves. In amongst the Spanish food items were Duchy Originals. Euroski in Gibraltar were proud to announce the availability of Waitrose goods. It all added to the eclectic mix that Gibraltar provides.
So, getting back to the van, I felt a bit disgruntled. I mean, a day spent looking at Morrisons and being wowed by seeing Bonne Maman jam next to items from the Waitrose Essentials range would hardly be a goal for overseas exploration.

The next day dawned, grey, wet and windy, just like the previous one. There was no way I was going to do any more mooching. I was ready to sightsee and learn, whatever the weather. Mike acquiesced, he must have weighed up the pros and cons of my moaning about being stuck with a menial day comparing it to his desire not to get his hair wet. We walked round to the cable car and it was shut due to the high winds. Undaunted we proceeded through the adjacent botanical gardens while Mike outlined the best plan to get around, over and through the rock. We climbed the steep slope through the gardens and onto the narrow road beyond. There was an entry gate to the protected area and the nice man in the kiosk sold us two day passes for £10 each. This included entry on foot to the park (£1.00) and the caves, the tunnels and the Moorish fortress. He pointed to the Meditterranean steps and explained we could take them to the caves. 'Not the best day for it though - rather windy' he added.
​
My only concern was the location of a cafe as I hadn't had the chance of my daily caffeine fix. He assured us that there was a cafe near the entrance to the caves, so without further ado we set off. The first few steps were great but as soon as we rounded the first corner we felt the full force of the wind. I let Mike go on ahead and managed not to get blown off the side. That would have made a rough start to the year. I then managed to make it to the top. Two agile female squaddies jogged jauntily up the steps as I was heaving painful breaths. The final steps were taken by physically lifting each foot up onto each uneven step. Thank goodness that the steps had been restored with rope side rails to steady myself with.

Following on from my flirtation with mountaineering I was full of energy and buoyant hope that my feet wouldn't hurt too much if we carried on and packed it all in. The cafe provided re-hydration and an unexpected and unexpectedly tasty Cornish Pasty. St. Michael's caves were breathtaking and we marvelled at the tunelling of British soldiers from the 1700s and during the Second World War where they had blasted tunnels into the rock itself. Finally we visited the siege museum and the Moorish Castle. Exhausted by the day's endeavours we couldn't face cooking ourselves a meal and treated ourselves to a slap up steak and chips in Casemates Square. Quite delicious. 
What a brilliant day, and wonderful country. Would definitely go back.

Nowadays I like to be tucked up in bed by 10.00pm, even on holiday (how sad am I?) So Mike and I had to pace ourselves for a late night. Again we walked onto Gibraltar on foot, across the runway, bus into town. We got off at Casemates Square (not realising what a short walk it is, no need for a bus at all). The place was deserted. Just like a ghost town. Where were all the people from last night? I felt a grim sense of foreboding. Had we chosen badly? Should we have stayed with Seville our previous first choice? We headed to a pub, and sat outside under a patio heater. We got chatting with a Canadian who was touring Spain on his motorbike – he was confident that it was still early. We weren't so sure. Many of the restauarants, heaving the night before were shut or closed to casual diners, pre-booked for private parties. We didn't fancy the pub menu, even though our Canadian said he'd enjoyed the fish and chips. So where do we choose? What type of food is always available and tasty? An Indian! Of course. We'd walked past this one several times but not gone in as it only had two diners each time. But, now it was 9.30pm and it looked full from the outside. Thank goodness. In we went and they found us a table. The samosas being delivered to other tables looked plump, homemade and tasty. Seeing this as a good omen for a really good meal my previous fears were abolished.
The food finally arrived and it was awful! We were both stumped after the first few mouthfuls and gave up. I can usually see the good in any meal and my appetite plus greed will ensure that I just get on and eat, but no. I really couldn't. Even the rice was rubbish. We didn't pass on any feedback to the proprietors – just paid and headed off into the night.
Casemates Square was buzzing! The crowds out in full-force, now fed and watered. The square is quite small and was dominated by a stage. The live band was really good and we had a bit of a dance. Countdown commenced prior to the obligatory fireworks. And weren't they amazing? The display had been set up from the wall on the edge of the square so we were right underneath them. They also went on for a long time and once the official ones had finished we could hear other displays ringing out nearby. We soon lost interest in the square and wandered off, back to our home in Spain. The displays continued on the walk back, including one individual hosting his own display right on the pavement. The atmosphere had been great throughout and we were able to put that poor meal back into the rear recesses of our minds.

We have spent a couple of New Year's Eves on the Algarve and decided that this year it was time for a change. Seville had been our goal. After all, the Spanish love a party, don't they? I did a quick search on Google to find out what was planned in the city and to be fair, it sounded a bit lame. I read that there would be fireworks at midnight but most of the restaurants would be closed to make way for family and private parties. That didn't sound like much for a big night of the year. Gibraltar, however, seemed much more organised. The Tourism Board website advertised entertainment in Casemates Square and fireworks. That had to be better. So, when we left Albufeira on the 30th December we headed for Gibraltar.

The journey couldn't have been more straight forward. (Map below) and we arrived at the Marina in La Linea at around 4.30pm. This was a great spot, stunning backdrop of the rock and a nice outlook through the front windscreen of the marina. It cost 10 Euros a night, no electric but grey and freshwater. There was also a washing machine and tumble dryer available to use for 7 euros a night. The maximum stay was supposed to be 72 hours in the designated spaces but the staff were laid back and said as it was quiet we could stay 5 or 6 nights if we wanted – no problem.

Soon after arriving we headed straight for the border on foot. It was just getting dark and we decided to catch the bus to the town centre. Crossing the border was easy – a row of passport machine readers greeted us in the immigration hall and we crossed with no hold ups. The town was buzzing and had a real international feel. I guess that's not surprising when you think of the location and history. Having landed there once in the eighties and only got as far as a cashpoint before going back to Spain I hadn't had much experience or knowledge about the place. The main high street had a collection of english high street chains, perfumeries, pubs, jewellery shops and off licences. The width of the street and the type of window front to the older style of shops reminded me of Malta. I couldn't help but notice how cheap the perfume and booze was. £7.00 for a litre of Gordons!

After about an hour and a pint at one of the pubs we returned to La Linea and had a mooch around there. It was incredibly busy and had a great holiday atmosphere as many cafes and bars had chairs and tables out on the street. We patted ourselves on the back thinking that we must have chosen a great place for New Year's Eve.

​I left Mike to set up home in the van just after we arrived at Parque da Palmeira aire in Albufeira and went round to say hi to Beryl and Dave, full-timers we met there in 2013. I made arrangements to meet up with them in the bar for their regular 3.00pm slurp and went back to our van to find Mario and Denis had popped in for coffee. What a social whirl! It was great to catch up on the local news and gossip from them and others we have met over the years.

For those that haven't been to Portugal for a while there has been a change in the free/wild camping situation and other friends (who I didn't ask if they'd mind being named, so I won't) filled me in on their personal experience. They had parked at Falésia beach last winter (on map below), the GNR (police) turned up for a chat - mainly the English Premier League and left. When they eventually got home to the post in the UK they found a fine for 252 Euros and a letter explaining that they had been illegally parked at Falésia beach and there was photographic evidence. Nasty policeman! Fancy lulling them in to a false sense of security like that? Anyway, because there were no bank details on the letter they couldn't pay using a bank transfer and without a European bank account they had no way of paying the fine with a cheque. Fearing further repercussions they popped 200 Euros in an envelope, posted it off and hoped for the best. When they got to Albufeira a couple of weeks ago, they went in to the town hall, their envelope with the 200 euros inside was retrieved from under the counter, so they paid the balance and left. 

So why share this tale? We have heard from a few people about the GNR issuing on the spot fines (Mario and Denis were caught at Paderne - that cost them 125 Euros). Portugal is one of the poorest countries in Europe and they don't have the infrastructure to cope with the vast influx of motorhomes on the Algarve each winter. The councils have issued licences for aires and there is now a plentiful supply of council and privately owned ones operating at many locations. Whilst it's nice to be able to park up on a deserted beachfront and stay the night, responsible motorhoming has to mean that we stay respectful of our host country. How would you like it if you couldn't see your favourite view from home, or not get parked at the sports centre because of a sea of motorhomes? These aires are inexpensive. Parque Da Palmeira, for example, is 8 Euros a night including electricity, fresh water, dump, wi-fi and hot showers. Not bad for just over a fiver is it? Us northern Europeans turn up in our campers expecting a cheap and warmer winter than the one we would get further north and at these prices - in some cases less than the council tax - certainly less than the heating bill. The aire at the marina in Portimao is only 70 euros a month, so with a solar panel and careful use of electrical appliances indoors you could stay there and contribute to a local enterprise. I also share this with you because the authorities now have the ability to write to you at home. Incidentally, the fine doubles if you don't pay on the spot. So the Belgians that Mike met who were hiding from the police on an Aire to avoid paying their fine could well be on a hiding for nothing!

​If you can't afford to pay for an Aire, all is not lost. There are still large areas in Spain where free camping is tolerated. I know it's annoying when things change, particularly if it means you can no longer afford to do something. But that's the price we pay collectively for motorhoming having become so massively popular over the past 15 years. When we came into this, there were none of the pressures on local communities as there are now. Incidentally, there are still people free camping on car parks in Portugal, we wouldn't do it though now. It's just not worth the risk in my view. I can think of much better things to spend 250 euros on than a fine.

Cautionary tale over. Enjoy Portugal - its a beautiful country but expect to pay to stay. Motorhoming isn't just about free, it's also about being a responsible fellow European citizen. Also, if you do some maths £250 Euros divided by 8 equals 31 nights on an aire. 

I flew out to Faro from the UK on the 23rd December and took a pre-paid transfer mini bus to the Tivoli Marina Hotel in Praia Da Rocha, Portimão. Mike had planned to stay on the aire at the marina and judging by my research using Google Maps he wouldn't be parked too far away from that hotel. The transfer took just over an hour and a half as we had stops in Quarteira and Albufeira old town along the way. Unlike the lady in the seat behind me I wasn't complaining about the length of time it took to get there. At just £11.00 it seemed like a reasonable price - she could have taken a taxi for about 4 times as much and saved time getting there. Mike was waiting for me at the Aire which turned out to be right next to the hotel. He had been parked for a couple of nights and had a chance to investigate what Praia da Rocha has to offer in the low season.
The aire has just been taken over by new management and costs 3 Euros a night (110 litres water 2 Euros, free dump) , 70 Euros for a month with free dump and water at 10 Euros if you pay in advance for the whole month. Wi-fi is extra. A reader from our Facebook page contacted us to say she had concerns about 'trouble' at the Aire. We were unaware of this and certainly didn't experience any. The folks running the site were pleasant and there was a barriered entrance with security. A bar opened the day I arrived. This is located in an old coach with a flip up side like you see at fairgrounds. This one served beer, wine, soft drinks and snacks at local prices (2 Euros a pint and 1.50 for a glass of wine) accompanied by a set of tunes enjoyed by jolly dancing Dutch and Germans. We were unconcerned by this as it was the festive season but if that would cause upset there was plenty of room to get away from the noise further along the aire towards the beach.

On arrival I threw my baggage down inside the van and we set off straight away for a beer and something to eat. The resort was pretty much deserted but we found a bar and then a delish, great value three course meal at Restaurante Três Palmeiras a glass encased restaurant overlooking the sea.

The sun shone bright on Christmas Eve and we sat outside a cliff top cafe for lunchtime beers. Most of the town shut early so we had a late lunch and back to the Aire for a quick drink and bed. 

On Christmas Morning we had a slap up breakfast chez nous before heading up to meet friends for a meal in Silves at Casa Vela, a regular haunt for Mike. We went on the motorbike and I confess I was a little nervous to start with as I've never been on it before and wasn't sure if my bum would fit! Well, there was plenty of room for me, I was comfortable and Mike managed to get to 65 mph (bit fast) but it wasn't a bad journey. We met our friends at the new aire in Silves. This is located next to the cemetery and privately owned. (7 Euros a night including electric or 4.5 Euros without. Fresh water and dump included). The other private aire at Silves (beyond the Continente is now 8 Euros a night including electric). The new council aire next to the swimming pool isn't open officially yet. There are motorhomes parked there but the council are still looking for someone to run it on their behalf. Free camping on the car park at the pool is no longer tolerated.

Anyway, back to my meal -  I think the main course was a traditional Portuguese dish. Braised pork chops (v garlicky) with mushrooms and chestnuts. I enjoyed mine but Mike had a fatty piece of meat. We ate, drank and made merry for 15 euros a head. Great value as they gave us extra wine, beer and fresh prawns. After such a feast I clung onto Mike for the journey back, we left just around dusk. Back home we watched 'Meet Dave' an Eddie Murphy film which gave us a good chuckle.  

On Boxing Day we took a long walk along the waterside to Portimão. I thought I could remember the old town from a package holiday in 1991 and in amongst the urban sprawl we found it. From there we walked back to the river estuary and took pictures of the old bridge (constructed from left overs of the Eiffel Tower - it's the blue line in the far distance behind Mike in the first picture), a couple of flat bottomed boats which take trips up river to Silves on the tide. Unfortunately the operating company were on holiday - I would have really enjoyed that. Mike also took a picture of me in the old town wearing my new Christmas top. He just had to add that I'd cleared the square. Then we spotted a classic camper parked on the grassy end of the marina aire. Pictures below.

The following day we left Portimão and headed for the aire at Albufeira - Parque de Palmeira. We've been there a few times now. It costs 8 euros a night including electricity, Wi-Fi, fresh water, dump and showers. 

Before Mike left the UK for this trip he purchased the Aires book for Spain and Portugal, published by Vicarious books. It has recently been updated and at £17.99 seems expensive at first. However, it is very up to date, has lots of colour photos and has so far been well worth the money. The latest version is on the Vicarious Books website.

The map of where we have been on this post is shown below.

Happy travels and Happy New Year!

​Ali and Mike