europe – Charlierobinsonbooks

Where It All Began 8

Almeria

Almeria was basic in 1976, and life was very different for an eighteen year-old in the 70s. I’d been working for three years, and had five jobs which didn’t work out for various reasons. Apprentice Engineer, mechanic, and electrician. I also worked at Morrisons Supermarket and finally at Sherbourne Pouffes in production line upholstery. Now here I was travelling around Spain, home was a camper van and work was spearfishing. Mudguts and I had been told by our two older companions, mentors if you like, to behave. “The Guardia Civil will not mess about, and you could both end up in big trouble!” I pointed out that if trouble came our way? I would simply ask to see the British Consulate. To be honest we were our own worst enemies with a love of local girls, wine, brandy, and mischief. Factor in the landscape and the invasion of Hollywood, years before who made Westerns, such as The Good, Bad, and Ugly only fuelled our rebellious attitude.

Everything was going well, Almeria was Peter’s favourite Spanish town and the fishing was okay. Although we’d had our money taken from us and been put on a meagre allowance, Mudguts and I devised many ways to entertain ourselves. We did moderate our adventures to some degree. But you know what they say? Nothing lasts forever😂

One day, due to a huge sea swell, there was going to be no fishing. Mudguts and I were sent food shopping and given the necessary funds. Here lieth the problem, we had to pass a bar which we had frequented on several occasions. The bar was full of local fishermen, now where was the harm with one beer on a hot day? In those days a game called Spoof was very popular, we were extremely good at it, and had played the fishermen a few times. For us it was a drinking game, the last man standing bought a round of drinks, and we saw a chance of free alchohol. As I say we were good at it. Late morning turned into late afternoon and we remembered the shopping. We said goodbye to our amigos and “kinda walked” from the bar😂.

We should have gone shopping and returned to the vans. Except we had an idea, I have no recollection of where it came from, but we decided it would be good fun to stop the traffic. I lay down on one side of the road and Mudguts on the other. (Go figure!) and pretended to be asleep. There followed a few minutes of car horns, a lot of shouting, and I guess swearing before we suddenly pretended to wake up and walk away, straight into a couple of Guardia Civil officers. They held us by the arms and chatted to some locals who pointed in the direction of where the vans were parked.

Fifteen minutes later, Mudguts and I were held before our older companions, detained, disheveled, and disgraced. Luckily the police said, if we left town by sunset there would be no further action. I allowed myself a grin as I remembered the Spaghetti Westerns which had been filmed here.

I don’t have much recollection of the rest of the day. I do know Peter and Mudgut’s brother John were not impressed by our escapade and it was decided that we would now head for Cadiz. We were, at last, going to Gran Canaria for the rest of the winter. John and Muduts decided to join us, so we headed for the ferry. I wondered what adventures awaited us in Mogan, Gran Canaria?

Happy Trails, Folks x

Where It All Began 7

Javea

1976, Spain was a totally different Spain to what it is now. Franco had died one year earlier and much of his legacy remained. After the grapepicking we arrived in Javea, and the first thing we were told by the Guardia Civil was, “No es posible acampar aquí.” It was a phrase we heard often. Basically, no camping. Peter’s reply was always the same. “Pesca submarina.” For some reason spearfishermen had special rights, and we were left alone, although we were informed they would check on us throughout the night, which apparently was thirsty work. So, each evening we left a half bottle of wine and two glasses on the rear bumper step.

For a couple of weeks Javea was fun, there was a lot of diving, drinking and a few girls. Mudguts and I reverted to our feral nature, and I have to admit, looking back we were probably out of control. One particular night we had a disagreement with some American backpackers from the campsite. As I remember it, we were (entertaining?) two girls in the rear yard of a bar who, it turned out, were partners of two Alpha Male backpackers. It didn’t end well, we were outnumbered and felt some justice should prevail. Their campsite was at the bottom of a small cliff, so in the early hours, after gathering some ammunition, (stones and rocks). As Maximus the Gladiator said 😂

We only aimed for the tents, but to see so many people running around in the dark, half naked was a joy, until they discovered where the mystery stones were being hailed from, and so they began to climb. We escaped into the night and laughed all the way home. It was short lived! The Gaurdia arrived the following morning and after a long conversation with my mentor, Peter, and Mudgut’s older brother John they left. This, apparently, was the last straw (to be honest, as I said we had been a little naughty before) They took our money from us, explaining we were now to be given a small allowance, enough for maybe a beer. But we knew where we could buy bottles of wine for about 40 pesatas (30p) And the barmen were willing to swop beers for lightbulbs. Yeah, I know it was kinda inventive, but we became quite adapt at appropriating light bulbs from many sources.😂

Eventually we had to consider moving on, the fishing was still not good. But then our fortunes changed once more. We met Laurie and Ronnie, ex merchant seamen who owned a bar in the town, The Cave Bar. After a few beers they asked if we would convert their stockroom into a small eating area. Peter was an electrician and John the Aussie was a builder, whereas Mudguts and I were… well, we were just 18 years old 😂 In return they offered us a flat to stay in, they would feed us, and give us some spending money. So, we set to work.

There was a lot of chicken wire and paper mache used, that’s not the original photo, but its close enough. At least it kept us out of trouble, for now. When the work was done we set off once more. Next Stop, Almeria.

Happy Trails, Folks x

Where It All Began 6

What To Do When There’s No Fish?

We were having a great time in Portbou, but we were spending money with no income. Too early for the fishing season, we needed a plan. As luck would have it our new friends, Jamie and Josephine were heading for Perpignan to apply for work on Le Vendange (grape picking season).

This sounded like a good idea. Three days later Peter, myself, two Aussies, three Welshmen, Jamie and Josephine found ourselves at the counter of a French Employment Office. The girl behind the desk had work in a village called La Tour, for eleven people. Quandary! There were only nine of us. Remember?… Mudguts and I were only eighteen, so we had already spotted the two attractive girls in the corner. Two hours later all eleven of us were seated around an old oak table in an equally old farm kitchen chatting to to the vineyard owner. Well, Josephine was chatting, we were nodding. The farmer must have been impressed, as he took us to a house in the village, told us we could stay there during our employment, and produced a wicker clad bottle, a demijohn, it must have held 5 gallons. He said when we had finished it we could bring it to the farmhouse and he’d fill it. I was happy already!

He did a lot of back slapping, used the word “Bon” a lot and appeared very, very happy. It was sometime later that Josephine discovered from his wife that he had a bad back and took pain killers. The Dr had instructed him not to drink alcohol. His wife said, with a shrug and a wink, he was French and a vineyard owner. Mudguts, who was quite an expert on narcotics (one reason he left Australia) said it was equivalent to taking ‘speed.‘ Three days later we were woken at 5am, taken on a tractor to a field, and instructed how to pick grapes. Interestingly we were joined by a band of gypsies, and told they were fast. Ah, competition time.😊

A porter working during the grapepicking season, France 1976

I’m not sure how I survived the next twenty days. We worked from 6am until 1pm and then 3pm until 6pm. This was the heatwave of 1976 and it was hot! But, we successfully picked more grapes than our Romany friends, and secured extra work for the Mayor of the village.

The nights were riotous, and we rarely hit the sack before midnight, often later. I recall a night when one of the Welsh chaps crashed early, a little worse for wear, and we manged to manoeuvre his bed down two flights of stairs and into the street. 😂 The following morning, as we gazed from the window, it was amusing to see the villagers starting their day. They sauntered by a bed in the street, with a snoring youth snuggled down, whilst chuntering to themselves. But all good things come to an end. In total we completed a 20 day stint at 10 francs per day, so with our purses refilled, we bid a fond farewell to our employer, and most of our friends.

Jamie and Josephine headed for God knows where, the Welshmen set off for Germany, while Peter, myself, two Aussies and the girls we found in Perpignan decided on Javea. Hopefully the fish had arrived.

Happy Trails, Folks x

Santorini

I was told Santorini was the most beautiful of all Greek Islands. I often wonder who comes up with this information. I mean yeah… it’s beautiful, but more beautiful than Kefalonia? I suppose it could be. It has whitewashed villages chiselled into the hillside with their blue… sorry AZURE rooftops. Apparently if you use the word AZURE instead of blue it gives you a heightened state of relaxation🤔. There are, of course the sunsets, these are the best sunsets in the world. So I am told.

If you’re seeking culinary delights on holiday then Kamari in Santorini won’t disappoint. The Voodoo Bar has a fabulous menu so, we had to go back twice. As an avid fish and seafood fan, a Greek island is always a food adventure for me and this place didn’t disappoint. Crispy calamari and whole sea bream was lush.

“What about the running?” I hear you ask, or not but you should know me by now. There are some great places to run or, if you’re not a heat lover like me, you can walk. I found a hill and I love hills, it was at the far end of the village. It led to Ancient Thera, built in the 8th Century BC at the top of the hill (although they call it a mountain) so, my wife suggested we walk it the day before and hide a bottle of water at the top. What a great idea! Ancient Thera is a surprise for you at the top, though. Quite a vast ruin and steeped in history.

The day before I planned to run, as I say, we walked to the summit, the mistake we made was walking up the road and down the trail. It would have been much better the other way around. The road was fairly easy.

The trail coming down… not so much 🤣

The following day I found running up and down that hill looked tough but was a lot easier than it looked and in the heat of a Grecian sun was so enjoyable.

On the final day we visited the volcano at Nea Kameni, this is nothing like Etna as the crater is underwater but sparked the legend of Atlantis. It’s main eruption around 1645BC wiped out the Minoan Civilisation with columns of ash and gas reaching kilometres into the air and and a massive tsunami.

So that’s about it my friends, we got to see the famous sunset from the boat as we headed home and I guess as sunsets go it was OK (bearing in mind I am a Yorkshireman 😉)

Happy Trails x

The Godfather

I read this book way back in 1973. I had seen the film in late 1972 and was eager to see how the book by (Mario Puzo) compared, or vise versa. I remember my girlfriend’s mother refused to let her go with me because it was too violent. I was 15 and we lived on a Bradford council estate. I could only surmise that my girlfriend hadn’t told her mother of our exploits and the fights between my group of mates and the local skinheads. 😂 The movie is a superb adaptation of the book, which is a rare thing even in those days. The dialogue in many places is like for like and so fans of the book were not disappointed. Maybe that’s why it has been so popular and timeless?

Move on 50 years and I find myself scampering round the back streets of Savoca, Sicily. If you are not familiar with the place, it is set on a mountainside and is one of the most beautiful villages in Sicily. It is also the location of a scene from the Godfather movie. The Bar Vitelli in Savoca is the bar where Michael informs the owner that he intends to marry his daughter, Apollonia.

The bar is now a popular tourist haunt (isn’t everywhere?) It’s full of memorabilia from the film and you can treat yourself to a ‘peasant’ dish of eggplant and cheese on bruschetta for a mere 18 euros.

It is also where the wedding of Michael and Apollonia was filmed and the famous walk down the hillside to the town. What surprised me most was when I went into Google maps the “Wedding Walk” is actually shown as a route 😂. If you are a Godfather fan and do get the chance to visit Savoca in Sicily I can recommend it. Apart from the Bar Vitelli it’s a beautiful place to explore.

Happy trails, folks x

Mnt Etna. The Peace of a Volcano

As a writer I enjoy the peace of the wilds. It helps me think, especially when I am running or even hiking. Be it the countryside or top of a mountain, I have started and finished stories in my head while surrounded by nature. So when my dear wife suggested we climb Mount Etna on a recent visit to Sicily, I was all for it.

Mount Etna’s eruptions have been documented by us mere humans for 2,700 years and is one of the worlds most active volcanoes, and the highest (11,014ft), most active in Europe. But this doesn’t make it one of the most dangerous. Because it is so active, and constantly releasing steam, the eruptions have less force. Needless to say, it is also very well monitored.

We drove up to the base a few days before we intended to climb and spoke to a local guide, Nino Scandura. We struck a deal and as there were no other people choosing to go on the day we wanted, it would be just the three of us. A little more expensive but, truly, it was worth it. To say he was extremely helpful and professional would be an understatement. He was fantastic.

We started the climb by cable car, yeah… I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t we walk? To walk the 10,000ft from the bottom would take too long, trust me 😂. Honestly? I was a little disappointed at first, especially when he said after the cable car we get a bus. But when you alight from the bus at 10,000 ft and realise that walking a few yards takes a lot of effort, it makes sense. We were told it was not suitable for anyone with Asthma or a heart condition, and once we got off the bus and began to climb I could certainly understand why. The air was so thin any strenuous activity leaves you breathless. Although… we chose not to take the bus back and trekked all the way down to the cable car, it was hard going. The hike to the summit and back was a mere 10k but took us five and a half hours. I run 10k in 42 minutes! When you are hiking up to the summit it is so quiet, so peaceful and you have time to consider life.

It was my wife’s birthday a few days before and I’m not sure how Nino knew this but after a gruelling climb to the summit he produced a bottle of red wine. I thought it was a joke and cynically asked. “Do you have a corkscrew?” He replied. “Of course, Happy birthday, Gillian.” And produced three glasses, he then poured us all, a glass of very welcome wine.

We hiked our way around the summit while Nino explained the history of Etna and pointed out the four active craters. There was quite a lot of gas emissions and the smell of sulphur hung heavily in the air. This didn’t help our breathing, but as we are both physically fit we coped fine.

Eventually it was time to hike our way back down. Now that was scary. I’ve always found climbing up something relatively easy, not so much coming down though. We had to change route at one stage due to the wind blowing the sulphur across our chosen path. There’s only so much of that stuff you can breathe in. Underfoot was tricky too, hence the walking poles, gloves and helmets. Hiking across the lava fields was akin to walking on shards of glass. Nino explained that to fall would rip your skin to shreds… comforting!

So there you are. If you ever get the chance to visit Sicily I recommend Etna as an adventure. I can also strongly recommend Nino as a guide. As well as being an expert on Etna, he supplied the walking sticks, boots, helmets and gloves as part of the deal. He asked for my WhatsApp details and when I arrived back at our base he had sent me over thirty photographs and videos of our hike.

Happy trails, folks x