There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home… Ok, a bit shabby and not entirely honest but we’ve just got back from a fortnight in the south of Spain, in the Costa del Sol. Sol… hmm… the name ought to have given it away. LOL. It was a good holiday and we had some great days out, but my gods it was hot. I don’t do hot.
We stayed in Nerja, a few miles out of Malaga, at The Marina Turquesa. It’s a really well kept apartment complex, beautifully clean and compact around a central pool with a few scattered ones behind the larger apartments. I’m not a fan of pool and beach holidays but this was the place to lie out with a good book or three and unwind. Terribly hard beds though, which did cause me more than a little frustration – like sleeping on a stone slab!
We made a trip (I say trip – it was so close by we ended up walking back!) to the Nerja Caves, allegedly the largest cave system in Europe. It was no understatement! They were extensive and very powerful. We also travelled to Granada (oh! even hotter!) and visited The Alhambra, a ranging series of fortifications, palaces and courtyards built between the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries in a blend of Moorish and Christian influences.
It was a lovely break, but oh to get back to Gloucestershire!
Even given the possibilities of the recent extreme floods that almost took out the substation at Walham where I often work. Due to the efforts of the military, the emergency services and of course our own blokes (and a kilometer and a half of aggregate filled bunding and eight high capacity pumps clearing 200,000 litres of water per hour), we didn’t in the end lose Walham, and five hundred thousand folk kept their lights on. And I watched it all, cerveza in hand, on satellite telly! Joy!
I guess I am embedded in this Land. When I’m away it’s almost a physical ache, perhaps more correctly a spiritual one. Wouldn’t, couldn’t, want to live anywhere else. Home. Happy.