Cartagena

 Cartagena was Hannibal’s headquarters in Spain, named after his capital Carthage in north Africa. We drove the 10 miles or so to the city, as we usually do when we stay in this area. 

Today, it’s a first time visit to the naval museum on the quayside. By chance, the museum’s first exhibits carry on with the frogman theme from the previous blog. However impractical climbing a mountain in scuba kit would seem, with this gear on, as shown in the next photo, it would clearly be impossible. However, he looks rather cute, like those free plastic toys you used to get in cornflakes packets.

Now comes the practical world of de-compression chambers. These reverse the potentially lethal effect of “the bends”: nitrogen bubbles in the blood caused by a diver surfacing too quickly. The chamber reapplies deep water pressure and slowly reduces it as if the diver had come up more slowly. The photo shows two early examples, the first one of which seems self explanatory with a bench inside for the divers to sit while they de-pressurise. However, with the second one, the ailing diver is now forced into this narrow, tapering tube and then a lid affixed so that the pressure treatment can be applied. But what if he’s chubby, or claustrophobic? The upside is, if the treatment didn’t work, it’s a ready-made burial kit. 

Still in the underwater section, a happier tableau – the regimental band’s music and instruments. It does begs practical questions like, how do you play, say, a clarinet under water or stop fish swimming up the end and spoiling the tune? However, maybe you could manage drumming in the cornflakes packet divers suit shown previously.

Coming up to the water surface we arrive at the early torpedoes. Most striking is this beautifully shiny copper casing that you’d definitely need a BA (Brasso) for these day. 

In the next section are lots of model ships, beautifully made, although it must be said that the first vessel’s sails seem to have be made from the model maker’s wife’s underwear.

So this is what a sailor in Christopher Columbus’ time would be wearing. It also serves as a Morris dancing outfit.

On the way out we pass an amazingly artistic column of rope work, all rope, apart from the wooden support column.

The museum exit decants us onto the harbour front where the cruise ships dock. These are monsters, today’s arrival is the Aida Cosmo in the photo which carries up to 5,000 passengers and 1,500 crew.

No sooner are we in the city centre, two minutes walk from the harbour, when we hear marching drum-beats: another parade, this time it’s a legion of Roman soldiers. This is most appropriate as Cartagena was an important Roman city with a large theatre. The legion marches around the city in immaculate Roman attire (or so we onlookers believe) for most of the few hours that we are here, 

The centre is fully pedestrianised and very elegant, with shops and café-lined squares charging just normal prices. Here’s one such square.

We leave the centre heading for the harbour again where we’ve parked in the underground carpark. Glancing back towards the city, the traffic-free, tiled entrance maintains its classy, stylish image. 

April in Mazarron

We’re at our destination campsite, Los Madriles, where we first came in 2007. Practically all of the surrounding area has been described in past blogs, so this is a compilation of odds and ends that haven’t featured previously. 

Climate change is now evident here too. Historically, this is one of Europe’s driest areas, averaging 8” of rain a year (200mm).The driest is 50 miles down the coast, where 4” is the average, and is classed as desert. But it’s changing, and there are many more spring flowers this year. This photo is of the path down to the beach.

Next example is from the rambla (dry river bed) near the campsite, that is  now a carpet of yellow flowers. However, In the 19^th century there was more rain and this same rambla supplied enough running water to power a flour mill, the remains of which are still visible, also the hillsides retain traces of ancient terracing where crops once grew. 

But all is not well in Paradise: there has been a steady increase each year in the number of wild campers. These are motorhomers who park long-term in places that are not campsites, so cost nothing, generally at local beauty spots. What’s the harm, you might say, and maybe for overnighting and on the move, why not. However, for longer stays, disposal of rubbish and toilet emptying is certainly an issue, as is claiming a lovely area and turning it into something resembling a refugee camp.

 The photo shows our nearest beach access trail having been “appropriated”. Please note that these aren’t homeless people or folks on a slender budget, the motorhomes referred to are generally newish and costing around £80,000. None of these units are so dilapidated or unsafe as to be turned away at a regular campsite.

Half a mile on from the wild camp settlement, near our campsite entrance, is a field. A ploughed field. Every year it’s the same, a freshly ploughed field, with nothing ever planted or growing in it. The photo shows how difficult it would be to grow anything in that soil – it’s 90% stones! The only possible explanation must be that ploughing it attracts an EU subsidy. 

Lots of activities over Easter, especially parades - and not only religious ones. Here we have a local procession with over 40 different elements, just two of which are shown in the following photos. All the costumes were incredibly intricate and imaginative.

Now for the walk that never was. John and I decided to follow a path we’d never tried before: a steep but well marked trail up the side of a mountain. Panoramic views as we ascended.

First rule of climbing is that steep climbs get steeper. We ran out of steam a few hundred metres from the top, where John’s sitting in the photo. We realised we should have kitted out with oxygen tanks but in the local area they’re only available with scuba diving kits. Shame – but you’d pay good money to see a couple of octogenarian frogman, complete with masks and flippers, plodding up a precipitous hillside.

13th March: The Royal Palace

 Our 4 euro pensioner tickets to the Royal Barge Museum also included the Royal Palace, so great value for money. We walked to the palace from the campsite through the park, so a pleasant start and no car parking worries. 

The palace has airport-style security, without the queues, and then into the palace itself. The Spanish royal family acquired a summer residence here in the late 15^th century and successive monarchs added to it resulting in the current huge edifice. 

King Phillip ii created the basic structure from 1556 onwards and it was finished bit by bit over the next 150 years. Later, Queen Isabella ii in the mid-19^th century made extensive alterations mainly to the décor. This is a photo of as much of the exterior that I could get in camera shot and it was too cold to wander around looking for a better angle.

Inside, we ascended the magnificent staircase, photo courtesy of a Spanish couple that we did the same for. Note winter clothing!

All the rooms were sumptuously decorated with an over-provision of carpets, pictures and tapestries.

Early Spanish architecture and furnishing was much influenced by their Moorish (Moroccan) conquerors from the 8^th century onwards, and although this palace was completed well after the Moors were expelled, these ancient Arab designs often appear as feature. Here it’s a quirky small chamber with a fancv chandelier.

The detail is astounding, but very busy, as this telephoto pic shows.

Palaces everywhere seem to go big on ornate ceilings – but who looks up that much? Or did they drink excessively and appreciate the view from laying flat out? 

Next is Queen Isabella’s boudoir. Official Spanish websites describe her as reigning from 1833 to 1868 when she was deposed, i.e. thrown out. One wonders why, but my guide book, unrestrained by having to paint a sanitised picture of the monarchy, describes her a nymphomaniac that brought the monarchy into disrepute. 

I must include her bedroom, fussy drapes and bed design. Note, though, that it’s a good sturdy bed, which is perhaps self explanatory! 

Accounts of Isabella’s life says she boasted of having only ever taken two baths, so let’s tiptoes out and leave her to her pongy philandering.

The next room is unique and quite overwhelming: it’s the Porcelain Room. Every wall and the ceiling is covered in oriental porcelain tableaux,

A close-up of one of these tableaux shows the high quality and detail.

By the time we get to the ball room we’re all gobsmacked out by the opulent and OTT décor. Note, another gorgeous ceiling.

The chapel too reflects the ornate designs of this period (Baroque) but is toned down enough to look elegant and pleasing.

We’re now near the end of the tour, and pass by the royal coach. Oddly, in contrast to the rooms, it’s black and austere. It brings to mind Dracula’s coach from Hammer House of Horrors’ “Dracula prince of darkness”. Poor old Queen Isabella can’t get anything right, can she!

We stroll on back  by the same route to the caravan in time for lunch. Hopefully no nightmares of Queen Isabella’s excesses – she was a big woman, you know.

 

France & Spain 4th March 2025:

We’re starting with fine weather, always a bonus at this time of year. Our route is tried and tested, and described in previous years so only a brief summary is justified. We went by tunnel from Folkestone to Calais, then via Abbeville, Rouen, Tours and Bordeaux. That’s three days of travel, and then we took time for a short break, just south of Bordeaux.

 We’ve stayed before at the small site near the village of Salles, in the vast pine forest that stretches the 100 miles to the Spanish border. The temperature reached 23C for the extra day we stayed so we took to the numerous forest trails accessible from the campsite.

There are houses sparsely dotted around in the forest, with generous plots that look very much part of the natural surroundings. Next photo is an example. The down side is the increasing risk of forest fire, which devastated parts last year, but evidently lucky Salles escaped.

Next leg: to Burgos. The weather changed dramatically to cold and rain, so after Burgos we cut short a planned sightseeing diversion and headed for Aranjuez, just south of Madrid, a more direct route to our destination. 

We’ve stayed at Camping International Aranjuez previously. It’s a well-run site next to the river Tagus, but nowhere looks that inviting in the rain.

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The permanent pitches next to our site look even more dismal: the description “refugee camp” comes to mind: every square inch is covered by caravans, sheds or canvas. 

But, hey, here comes the sun- and the site is transformed. We’re first on the left.

We needed a respite from travelling so we decided to stay for 5 days. Still not great weather but we walked from the site, over the river Tagus footbridge into the Royal Park. The Tagus is the longest river in Spain, and enters the sea at Lisbon, Portugal. Here it’s about like the Ouse, our mighty river back home!

In the Royal Park there are numerous fountains and statues. The fountains were all dry perhaps due to frost forecast but they still look impressive. However, the Atlas figures supporting the fountain bowl do look as if they’re seeing how much of their private bits they can see over their beer bellies!

The Royal Barge museum is also in the park and has a selection of barges that the Spanish royals used for river jaunts while staying at the Royal Palace. The earliest one dates form 1666 and was a gift to king Phillip 4^th from the king of Naples, who was a relation. This is the most OTT of all of the barges on display that I’m sure would turn a few heads if spotted cruising on the Ouse.

Talking OTT, our visit to the Royal Palace will need a separate blog entry in a few days: in the meantime we’ll be en route to our destination 300 miles away.