Spain (Camping Parque Tropical - Estepona)
Jul 8, 2008
|Well that will teach me to have a siesta just before bed time. I woke (I am not sure at what time) and it was still dark. I got up and had a pee then went back to bed and read for about two hours. At some stage I dozed again and came too when Rowena got up. She wandered off for a pee and on her return started to make breakfast.
That was toast, canned tomatoes and eggs, the toast having to come pre-toasted and boxed as we have no way of toasting bread ourselves. What a cool idea. Toast in a box. Carrefour though you see. Can get anything there.
I wandered off for a shower and the normal bodily functions of a healthy well fed male. On arriving at the ablution block I found that other healthy well fed people had also had their normal bodily functions. This was evident because not one of the four toilets would flush.
So whoever had left whatever to whomever who followed who could do whatever to fix the flushing problem.
The toilets stink!
Whilst I was over doing, well whatever, Rowena received a call from the tour people re:- arrangements for catching tomorrows Gibraltar tour. I finally feel like it will happen.
All dressed and set for the day we wandered off.
We caught the bus from the usual spot, assigned ourselves a landmark for pressing the “let me off here driver please” button and headed back to Estepona. It no longer being a Sunday the place was alive and shops were open, and….. wait for it, we found a Vodafone shop that could top up our phone!!!!!!
We celebrated with a coffee and a honey covered croissant.
We strolled around the narrow streets of Estepona. This was turning into a momentous day. I lost count of how many times we were at a pedestrian crossing and people stopped to let us cross. Or how many people said “Gracias” if we stepped aside to let them pass. Not everybody, but enough to make us feel good and comment about it.
The back streets of Estepona are narrow, but bright. There are low rise buildings on both sides of the road and, although run down in many places, appeared clean in their (mostly) now coats of white wash.
There is very little tagging.
There are a lot of people out and about just doing their own thing. I have never seen so many people walking so many little dogs on those long pull out leads. Old men sit around in groups at various strategic places, mainly cafes, and watch the world go by. Most have a walking stick that they use to sit their chins on over their two crossed hands. Not one of them use deodorant!
Young women, very few wearing wedding rings, pushing prams, along the street.
A restaurant owner, shirtless, arranges his outside seating for his days trading. He sweats profusely moving a table at a time, stopping to watch the passing people, dogs and unwed mothers, before picking up the next table to begin the cycle again.
An hour or so of wandering brings us to a place along the road where we decide to walk again to Carrefour, where we will obtain what we want for tea before heading back to the camp.
Deciding against purchasing cakes, we agree instead to save our money for something special in Gibraltar tomorrow. Carrefour supplies us with a packet of local cheeses, salami, grapes and olives for our tea, and a can of Heinz Beans and some pork steaks for a future repast.
Back onto the bus, recognise the landmark for the button, which is pushed in time for a safe stop at the correct disembarkation point, an uneventful journey (no one needing to be killed today) and a short walk to the camp where we buy an icecream as a reward.