Tag Archives: Spain

At the end of March, with the new Odonata season approaching but not yet with us in England, we were off to Spain for a 2½-week house-and-dog-sitting engagement. “Goody”, I thought, “being further south I’ll get a jump on the season and see some earlier Odos”. Wrong! I didn’t see a single one. They must be out in Spain ‘cos I’ve since discovered that the southwest of England reported Large Red Damselflies in late March, which I think is particularly early, so I can only assume that I was not looking at suitable bodies of water. Fussy little critters.

Day 1 began well with an interesting non-blue “blue” butterfly flitting about some potted geraniums the garden. At first sight it looked very similar to the Lang’s Short-tailed Blue that we had recently encountered for the first time in Madeira. It didn’t look quite right, though, from what we could remember and not having our books available, we’d have to wait to see what it might be. It, or more accurately they – there were at least two individuals – returned to the potted Geraniums almost daily. This behaviour could be something to do with the fact that they turned out to rejoice in the name of Geranium Bronze (Cacyreus marshalli). I’d certainly never heard of them before but they have apparently been imported into the UK. Interestingly, the first person to spot them in England also initially thought them to be Lang’s Short-tailed Blues.

After our initial success in the garden, the area of Spain we were visiting, the Jalon Valley, actually seemed a bit of a desert on the wildlife front. We had a hard time finding very much at all considering I was expecting a spring flush. There were plenty of wild flowers around the valley but we spotted relatively few butterflies, just the occasional individual zooming past in a frequently stiff breeze.

Persistence paid off, though, and we eventually drove up to the base of a mountain called the Bernia. On this day, Easter Sunday, it seemed as though half of the walkers in Spain had had the same idea. We found somewhere to park, though, and confined our activity to the scrub at the base of the Bernia. Eventually, Hawk-eyes (a.k.a. Carol) spotted a flitting movement on the stony ground. It was the tiniest of blue butterflies which certainly looked new to us. Happy campers! It was another critter I’d never heard of, a Panoptes Blue (Pseudophilotes panoptes). There is a confusingly similar alternative species but good ol’ iSpot seems to think my suggested id. was correct.

Hawk-eyes struck again and spotted someone with whom we were familiar flitting about some vegetation, a Green Hairstreak (Callophrys rubi). Green Hairstreaks don’t stand out against leaves very well but this one eventually settled on the ground and offered me a clear shot. Most frustratingly, a strange species of Orange Tip whizzed past and settled only briefly – too briefly for me to catch up and bring a camera into focus. It was an Orange Tip with a yellow background which I’m pretty sure must have been a Morocco Orange Tip (Anthocharis belia). Darn!

Towards the end of our trip we tried another mountain, this time behind Senija and on foot. Once again, on our way up to the cross on its summit, we were struck by an almost complete lack of wildlife. All we spotted were a few bees. Uncultivated land, plenty of wild flowers and few people to cause disturbance but no critters. Curious! Once we got to the summit, though, things changed dramatically. A Swallowtail (Papilio machaon) whizzed past. It was quickly followed by another Swallowtail. There seemed to be at least three tussling aerobatically for the high ground. Eventually we managed to catch them settled in a favourable position for a picture. Even though this one is in slightly less than perfect condition, it shows that they really are the most spectacular creatures.

Then the fun really started. I spotted another pair which looked more like my beloved Scarce Swallowtail (Iphiclides podalirius) with stunning black tiger-stripes. These, however, looked as if the stripes were on a white background as opposed to the more familiar (to me) cream background. I snapped a couple of shots and waded into iSpot back at home base. We’d hit a bit of a naming conundrum. The white version is most frequently called the Spanish Swallowtail or Spanish Scarce Swallowtail. Some authorities regard it as a subspecies and refer to it as Iphiclides podalirius feisthamelii whereas others regard it as a separate species and refer to Iphiclides feisthamelii. Finally back chez nous, my latest French language book, Guide des Papillons d’Europe et d’Afrique du Nord does refer to I. feisthamelii and notes the following:

I. feisthamelii est considéré comme une sous-espèce par certains auteurs. Cependant, les genitalia des deux sexes sont bien distincts.

… which I think is accurately translated thus:

I. feisthamelii is considered a subspecies by certain authors. However, the genitalia of both sexes are very different.

There’s something comforting about being back in the realms of different insect genitalia. I think I’ll enter the I. feisthamelii camp. Anyway, after all that, here is the fabulous creature.

First, the correction. In "Jack and Jill" in this blog, I mentioned what I had been told was the “Plant” scheme in Spain for employment and revitalization. Whilst wandeting around Benissa, a few miles from where we were staying, we stumbled across another example of work being done under that scheme. Upon closer examination of the board proclaiming it, I realized our mistake. The scheme is actually called PlanE (Plan Espagnol"), which makes much more sense. On the left you can see the board. The in my view understandable misinterpretation is caused by the fact the the top bar of the “E” is stylized and has a disconnected top bar. Further more, the top bar is shaped like a tilde, the mark frequently used in Spanish across “ñ”, the so-called “enya” letter.  So, misunderstanding corrected.

While we’re at it, here’s a few pictures of Benissa that we snapped on our wander around. This was about the first time we’d been into Benissa on a day other than Market day (Saturday), so we coul dfind one particular street unencumbered by market stalls. Benissa is one of our favourite towns in our very limited experience of Spain.

Now to today. We dropped our car off at the airport and continued to be quite impressed by Victoria car rental. I hate renting cars and anything that smoothes the experience is naturally welcomed. Since everything was paid for up-front and all insurances were included, it was simply necessary to park and give back the keys.

There was less bedlam at check-in than there was at Luton on our outbound leg, mercifully. As usual, in the hurry to remove shoes and belts at the security check, I managed to forget something, this time my mobile phone, and set off the security scanner. If it isn’t the mobile, it’s the iPod. Maybe it really would be better if we simply stripped naked and walked through.

I popped into the “duty free” area and bought a couple of bottles of 103, my favourite Spanish brandy, and was surprised to see no bags. When I asked for one I was informed that they were available at a cost of 20c. What, 20c for a bag! Not having 20c, I carried my purchases to Carol, acquired 20c and returned for a valuable bag. Strewth, times in Spain really must be hard!

Boarding the plane was bedlam again. Now armed with my bottles and additional “duty free” bag, I began wondering about the “one carry-on bag” rule. I wrapped them in my jacket and carried it. Discussing it with others, it seems that some had, indeed, been stopped because they now had too many bags. At £30 per hold bag, being allowed only one carry-on could soon start hitting duty-free sales and times in Spain will become even tougher. With hassle being added constantly, every time I fly I like it less.

We were 25 minutes late leaving because of the boarding gate bedlam and a late incoming flight. However, the actual flight went well and, assisted by a strong tailwind, we made up most of our delay landing at Luton more or less on time.

‘T was a good trip but not a great one, though the company was excellent. The winter weather in Europe this year has just been worse than normal for everyone, it seems.

Carol and I popped out this morning to say farewell to el perrito, Scamp, and to see the Bérnia. Last night Chris told us that Scamp had been sulking for a day or two after we left to take up residence with Geoff and Pam for our second week. I don’t usually have that effect on dogs. It’s a mark of how unsettled the weather has been that we have been here fro two weeks and have not been up to the Bérnia once. I can’t beleive it. Today with cooking duties looming, we didn’t have time to walk around it but we could, at least, drive up to it to see it. We left Geoff peeling 66 large raw prawns for the evening meal with Chris and Yvonne while he waited for his gas delivery.

Guess what? Quite correct! It seems that the Spanish phrase, “your gas will be delivered mañana” didn’t actually mean tomorrow. To be honest, I didn’t really think that it would arrive. Now we had a conundrum, though: a six-person dinner party to prepare, all of which would need to be cooked on a hob, and no gas.

Well … not quite no gas. Geoff did have a different gas cylinder in a room heater. That cylinder would also fit his gas BBQ which, mercifully, had a gas ring beside the BBQ part. He rigged it up. The strong wind seemed intent on making life even more difficult but Mr. Travelling Chef performed the near impossible by cooking two different meals (Pam didn’t fancy too much spice so I made a different prawn dish for her) largely on a single modest gas burner. I say “largely” because Geoff discovered that, although there was insufficient gas for either boiler to ignite and stay lit, there did appear to be some driving their gas hob. I was reticent to use it lest it run out completely half way through some critical stage but I did manage to make the “Cajun napalm” inside under control.

We had a great evening bidding fond farewell to our excellent hosts for the two weeks and the meal seemed successful.

Having been in this slightly challenging position now myself, I appreciate even more the absolute feast for 20 people that was prepared by a couple of Thai ladies using only two burners on our converted rice barge when we visited Thailand in 2006. I always knew they had done brilliantly but now I know they performed a minor miracle.

Tomorrow we do battle with Alicante airport to fly home.

I hope Geoff’s gas turns up very soon.

Assuming that the French air traffic controllers’ shenanigans actually let us return home on Sunday, we have two days left in Spain this trip. We’ve been lucky enough to enjoy the hospitality of two excellent pairs of hosts and have been wanting to take them out for a meal by way of saying both farewell and thank you. Everyone was free on Saturday evening so our original arrangement was to dine out all together on Saturday. I was to cook what seems to be becoming my party piece, Shrimp Etouffée, on Friday for Geoff and Pam, having refreshed my culinary memory last week on Chris and Yvonne.

Plans made, Friday dawned to cold showers. No, the rain in Spain had not returned; rather, the boiler that supplies hot water to the downstairs apartment where we are staying was out. Geoff tried valiantly to relight it but it refused to stay lit. No matter, the upstairs boiler was still working so, for our last day, we’d just use the upstairs facilities giving Geoff time to sort out his latest one of life’s little glitches.

We went shopping for our Shrimp Etouffée supplies and returned for lunch.

Whilst finishing my inevitable slug of rosado after lunch, I decided that the smell in my nostrils was not, on this occasion, a result of Geoff and Pam’s ageing dog Sherry’s ageing digestive system but was, in fact gas. Following my nose I discovered that the boiler supplying the upstairs, the main house, was now less than happy. Hmmm!?

Spanish houses tend to work on bottled propane gas. The bottles are housed in a gas cassita (little house) in two banks of five, a valve switching between the two banks. The normal modus operandi, is to run off the first bank of five until they run dry, then switch to the new bank and reorder five new bottles. Geoff went to the cassita and switched to the other bank of bottles. The upstairs boiler relit.

After an hour or so, the smell of gas returned. The upstairs boiler was once again unhappy. The second bank of cylinders were also empty. Geoff was unhappy. No gas: no hot water and no Shrimp Etouffée tonight. Everyone was unhappy. Geoff arranged for a new delivery but for mañana.

Fortunately, Chris and Yvonne’s Friday plans had fallen through and they were now free so we switched to eating out tonight, Friday, in the hope that Saturday would, indeed, deliver gas for dining in.

We spent a very pleasant evening with Geoff, Pam, Chris and Yvonne in Casa Caty down in Jalón where, “tonight is possible fantastico duck and is possible fantastico lamb”. While Chris launched into half a fantastico duck, Carol and I both chose fantastico lamb which turned out to be a whole leg … each! Memories of our lambing trip to Luc and Nadine last November. Luc had told us that the Spanish like their lambs at about 12kgs. These were clearly examples of that; they were much smaller than legs of English lamb but it was still a lot of meat for one portion. It was beautifully cooked, though.

Now we hope the gas will actually arrive tomorrow so our large shrimp can get their promised etouffée sauce.

[Ed: And if that isn’t a mouthful, nothing is!]

Rental cars in Spain have one great advantage over those that I have had to rent previously in America: they come with comprehensive insurance. In the States, an apparently reasonable rental rate is usually more than doubled by the time you’ve added three different additional insurances to protect you from over zealous dead American pedestrians suing you having killed them. Most unreasonable! The Spanish rental cars also have one slight disadvantage: you are charged for a full tank of fuel when you collect the car and have to return it empty. This, of course, means as near to empty as you dare to get it without coughing and spluttering to an embarrassing standstill on the motorway almost within sight of the airport.

Because we spent our first week here largely stuck indoors with rain falling outdoors, we were approaching the end of our stay with most of a tank of fuel to use up. We chose to use a goodly chunk of it by going on a typically touristy driving route down to Novelda, inland from Alicante, to visit the Gaudiesque Sanctuario de Santa Maria Magdalena. It wasn’t actually designed by Gaudi but followed his style.

The journey down was straightforward enough and after about an hour we spotted the church standing above and just outside of the town of Novelda. Never having seen the famous Gaudi-designed cathedral in Barcelona, my first impression was that the Sanctuario was fancifully ornate. My second impression was that it was much smaller than I had expected it to be. It may look like a cathedral but it definitely isn’t cathedral sized.  My third impression is that this seemed to be a particularly strange place to build such an ornate edifice. The valley above which it stands sentinel is no more than an industrial, almost lunar landscape covered in industrial scars. Check these pictures out and I think you’ll see what I mean.

The church was actually finished after 28 years of effort in 1946 and, doubtless, the quarrying and industrial activities were originally not present. It’s a shame that the Spanish have allowed it’s surroundings to deteriorate to this extent, though. Some vineyards would have looked good.

We continued on our circuit through largely industrial landscapes and, after finding some lunch, drove up into hills on constant hairpin bends. Travelling such uphill, constantly twisting roads, certainly was achieving our goal of using up significant amounts of fuel. We finally returned through Guadalest with superb light but everyone was tiring, especially the driver (yours truly) so there was no more stopping as the fuel gauge continued to plummet.

Back “at home” at about 6:00 PM, the pink went down well. We’ll have to buy some more fuel now to get to Alicante airport on Sunday.

On previous trips we’d been introduced to the quaint Spanish custom of driving to a font in the mountains armed with a car load of 10 litre containers to fill up with drinking water. There are at least three such fonts within striking distance of us and one frequently sees people at the fonts, car boot open, filling up their containers. Equally frequently, when one goes to fill up one’s own containers, it is necessary to wait while the previous “customer” finishes. The water is excellent quality and free. Of course, some fuel is used getting there and back so the economics are unclear but it seems to me to be an enjoyable ritual.

Chris and Yvonne, our first hosts on this trip, have abandoned this enjoyable ritual in favour of a more boring Brita filter solution [Ed: my opinion] so we’d thus far missed out this trip. However, Geoff and Pam still visit the springs and today they needed a fill up. 15 containers fitted our rental car’s boot almost perfectly (we could have done with a 16th to wedge things in snugly) and we set off with Pam to a font in the hills just behind Murla.The font flows quite swiftly so, as Carol and Pam filled and I loaded, the car was soon laden with about 150 litres of spring water.

The Spanish have begun using their large numbers of recession-hit unemployed on development projects rather than leaving them idle and the font behind Murla has received a considerable amount of attention. Rather than a simple spout in the side of the mountain, it now looks very smart with a rail to protect customers and a paved area to park in m ore safety. The projects resulting from this type of work have a “Plant” sign to proclaim them. (I don’t know what Plant might mean or stand for.) Jalón has also benefitted from quite a bit of Plant work and has many smart new pavements (sidewalks, in Amerispeak) for pedestrians.

How sensible is that?

There was a lot of dry weather and some some today so, acting upon information received, we drove half way up the Bérnia in search of almond blossom. Just before we came over it looked as though our timing was going to be perfecto. However, last week’s rain and cool weather seems to have thrown a spanner into the almond blossom development works. Consequently, now we have trees yet to flower, some which are laden with flowers, and others which have gone over. The blossom display wasn’t as impressive as our first year over here but here are a couple of shots to give you a flavour.

The floor of the Jalon valley is essentially a vineyard, hence all that deliciously cheap rosado. As we were wending our way back, threading our way through the vines to skip around the immensely irritating traffic lights in Lliber, we stumbled across a small group of workers manually pruning the old wood off the vines  making ready for the approaching new growing season. Carol couldn’t resist asking the driver to screech to a halt while she pointed her long lens in their general direction.

Naturally we had to drink to the vine pruners’ health when we arrived back “home”.

In amongst the clouds this morning there were some less-than-familiar patches of blue lurking. Maybe we’d get a chance for some fresh air. In between Xávia and Dénia on the coast lurks a large lump of rock called the Montgó which we’ve wanted to go and take a look at since we were introduced to this area of Spain. The coastal end of the Montgó supposedly resembles an elephant.

After solving the recurring question of what/how much clothing to wear, we set off. Soon after turning out of the valley it was apparent that we were heading away from the lurking blue patches and towards the lurking solid grey. After another mile or so it also became apparent that we had forgotten our Alpen bars for walking snacks. Drat! Undaunted, we continued, negotiated the traffic swarming around un unexpected market in Dénia and found our way to an entrance of the Parc Natural del Montgó.

After an initial ascent up a road threading its way through some well-shod-looking properties, we got onto the track up the mountain itself. This time there was no doubt about the path, which seemed to be more of an old gravel road complete with a wall to stop the unwary falling over the edge. The weather wasn’t clearing up but the walk was relaxing and very pleasant with the sprawl of Dénia with its harbour and a Balearics ferry to our left. We tramped on.

Unlike our favourite walk here around the Bernia, This was a there-and-back job. Also unlike our favourite walk here around the Bernia, the path remained almost identical as did our views, other than a slight change of angle. After three miles of more of the same, and faced with the prospect of the same three miles again on our return trip, a desire for lunch got the better of us and we did an about face. We made it to the eastern “nose” of the elephant, though. To complete the ascent, we’d want a more settled sky and a packed lunch.

It wasn’t a day for landscape photography but we did find another tiny little ermita (chapel, I think) to divert us on the way back down.

We returned to Lliber to find that the sun which hadn’t spread as far as the Montgó had spread as far as Lliber so we finished the day basking in late afternoon sun looking at the wonderful view of the valley from Geoff and Pam’s pad. The picture on the left is what this place is supposed to look like. Naturally, we had to enjoy the view in the company of a glass or three of rosado.

After the Lord Mayor’s show comes the dustcart. After our blissful, long-awaited day of uninterrupted sun came the grey and rain, again, as advertised. This is so frustrating – we know how delightful Spain can be, even in winter, but our two weeks in February are turning out to be irritatingly atypical. Even the almond trees appear to have put life on hold and stand apparently dormant in various stages of blossoming. Chris told us that there are 15 types of almond tree, each with a different shade of white or pink. We’re ready with our cameras but nature isn’t playing. Still, given the torrential disaster in Madeira, we have little to complain about.

The rain began at about 11:00 AM. Shortly after, we bad fond farewells to Chris, Yvonne and el perrito, Scamp, before driving the measly mile to the other side of the valley via the bodega to get a refilled 5 litre flagon (just over an imperial  gallon) of rosado. I still can’t believe this stuff; at 90¢ a litre, it’s cheaper than bottled water. Brilliant!

We were soon at Geoff and Pam’s renewing acquaintances with the three remaining pets. Sadly, in the year since we were house-and-pet sitting, they have lost one dog and one cat to the ravages of old age. One of our first services was to get Geoff’s new (second-hand) laptop and wireless router talking to each other. I discovered a reset button which made the wireless LAN burst into life and Carol discovered the security key which the laptop needed to be allowed access. What teamwork! Everyone was happy – now we’d have a week of wireless access without resorting to McDonald’s.

Domesticated life and PC support services aside, wildlife once again produced some elevated interest. While we were unpacking and settling in to our new bedroom, Carol returned from the bathroom excitedly announcing that she had something I should see. Well, how could a boy contain himself? The source of the excitement turned out to be an attractively marked creepy-crawly lurking on the tiles in our bathroom. It was about 2.5cms/1in long and completely new to me. With a lot of close-focus rings and a spot of flash, I snapped it. With Geoff’s super newly activated wi-fi, I posted our unknown invertebrate on iSpot.

My leggy creepy-crawly turns out to be a House Centipede (Scutigera coleoptrata). I love iSpot. Given Internet access, it seems to beat any field guide. Articles on the Internet say that House Centipedes are very common round the Mediterranean area. They have 15 pairs of legs, in which case I think House Trentipedes might be a more appropriate name … but whose counting? It’s certainly an interesting critter to add to my insect collection.

Given the weather, we’re finding precious little else to train our cameras on.

Well, it’s taken six days to arrive but, for our last full day with Chris, Yvonne and el perrito, Scamp, we finally seem to have a sunny day with a beautiful blue sky. At long last Spain doesn’t seem to be doing impressions of England.

Travel and experiencing foreign cultures causes me to form a strong association between certain things and countries. Since I’m a gastrotourist, these things usually revolve around food and drink. Some of my strong associations with Spain are bags of 5Kg/11lb oranges for a measly 2.00€ (3.00€ when they get really expensive) and alcachofas (globe artichokes). Learning how to deal with the latter from instructions in recipe books was something of an act of blind faith the first time but I mastered it and use them now whenever an excuse arises. They’re occasionally available at home but are ubiquitous here. They make great addition to tagines or to paellas.

Happily, Chris and Yvonne are also gastronauts. [Ed: Scamp probably is a canine gastronaut, too, ‘cos he doesn’t seem to care much for dog food.] So, as Saturday is the day for Benissa market, we planned a real team cooking event of a suitable lamb and artichoke feast chez Chris and Yvonne before moving on to Pam and Geoff, only about a mile away, tomorrow.

I lost count of the number of vegetable stalls on Benissa market. There are at least six and all selling a wonderful range of veggies. More artichokes than you could shake wooden spatula at. We chose some pleasingly small and tender looking examples together with some asparagus to grill for lunch. Back home with our market booty.

The sun continued to shine. Carol and I walked el perrito down into Jalón to check out the rastro, the local flea-market, which was heaving. We took refuge in cafe and sat with cafe solos (espressos) in the cafe’s blazing sun trap.

The sun continued to shine. We sat in the garden back “at home” and enjoyed grilled asparagus with crumbled goats cheese and, of course, some rosado for lunch.

Eventually the sun sank below the surrounding hills and the gastroteam retired to the house to prepare Moro’s lamb and artichoke feast – and very good it was, too.

Now that’s what Spain is supposed to be like. Shame it’s expected to rain again tomorrow.