So, my wee plan of hanging out in southern Spain, as it's the warmest and driest place at this time of year didn't really go quite as expected, it absolutely pished doon with rain all the way through March, I was lulled into a false sense of security having couple of sunny days in Aguadulce before I headed off to Valencia where the heavens opened, ha! the weather was that much like the west coast of Scotland I was getting homesick! The locals were telling me that it was the wettest March in memory, the Portuguese were telling me the same thing last year, jeez! I'm thinking it must be me, weather jinx rain man.......

Not complaining though, a wee bit of the wet stuff doesn't do you any harm and visiting my friends Patsy and Conor and the Fallas festival in Valencia was pure Ace! The origin of las Fallas comes from the old carpenter's tradition who, when celebrating the arrival of spring on 19th March, used to burn pieces of wood (parots) that were used to prop up their lights during the winter. To this bonfire they gradually started to add old belongings and rags, which gave the wooden structure a human-looking aspect, until they became the ninots(sculptures) you can see in the photos.


My favourite, based on Brexit.


The queen gets a mention god bless her.


As does Boris!


What the Spanish really think of the English.


Up she goes!

Some have evolved into temporary works of art which, in some cases, cost millions of euros. All, with the exception of one, are burned on the night of the 19th, so you spend this night running around town to see your favourite ones burned to the ground, even better this year as due to the rain, some of them didn't want to go on fire so there was a lot of comedy with the locals and petrol cans trying to get some of them to burn.




Whoosh.

If all this wasn't enough, there are parades everyday with locals from all over the Valencian region in their national costumes, all having their own bands, some of which are great and some of which are bloody terrible!


Local lovelies in their finest.

Also, (and this was a real highlight for me) every day at 2pm in the main town square, they have a thing called Mascleta's, which is basically very loud fireworks that go on for exactly six minutes, a different pyrotechnics company does it every day so they try and outdo each other, it's pretty intense but great fun as everybody goes mad for it.


The Alhambra with Granada in the background.

Next, I headed for Granada for a few days to see the Alhambra and dry out a bit. The Alhambra which means "The Red One" is a palace and fortress complex from way back when Spain was part of the Moorish Empire, it is one of the most famous monuments of Islamic architecture and one of the best-preserved palaces of the historic Islamic world.


Alhambra again.


Pretty nice eh?


I reckon you'd need a few cleaners if you lived here though!

I've been to Spain so many times and have never visited, it's blow your socks off impressive so was well worth the effort.

I had a few days back on the boat before I jetted off to the "Costa del Ayrshire" the day I got back to the marina, it got smashed by Sirocco winds which come from the Sahara and bring all the sand with them to deposit on every wee nook and crany on your boat, and rain, with sand in it! Ha! It was mental, it blew for a few days and was at one-point, on the first night, blowing a hoolie up to 47 knots, which is a severe gale, the boat was heeled right over, not much sleep was had I can tell you but I'm glad I was onboard at the time. One of the boats which was out of the water in the yard got blown off its supports!


Poor old Confidence after a sand blasting.


Whoops a Daisy!

Due to good old Brexit, which, I have to say, for me is a massive pain in the arse, as I'm only allowed to stay in Europe for three months at any one time, which would have stuffed my plans a bit but luckily as I have two passports I can swap them over, so I left Spain as an Australian and came back in as my original Scottish self a week later which gives me another three months which, fingers crossed, will give me enough time to get out of dodge and back to good old blighty.


Sunny Girvan by the Sea.

The weather in Scotland was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay better than it was in Spain, crazy eh! Beautiful blue sky days, bloody cold in the mornings when I was running but you know, it's Scotland, its dry, good enough. Got some walking in with my Maw, a day's fishing with my brother Andy (caught bugger all) and some quality running in the hills, it's funny, the older I get and the more I travel, the more I appreciate that wee town and realise how lucky I was to grow up there, although when I tell the young team there how lucky they are they think I'm an edjit!. Fair enough....


Melilla.

On my return to Spain, I sailed the bold Confidence across to Melilla which is the other Spanish enclave in Morocco, its much the same as Ceuta, as in, it's a big duty free town, massive border fence, lots of history, and the old town is well worth a visit, and if you like history and architecture it'll defiantly float your boat, the newer parts are, now let me think of a nice way to put it, yes, a shithole, literally, picking up your dog's poo is not a thing here yet it seems so it's a bit like picking your way through a poo mine field, in its defence, it was the Easter weekend so there was nobody working including the street cleaners.






I rocked up early in the morning on Maundy Thursday after a night at sea dodging container ships crossing the Mediterranean, strangely enough, the overnight passages here are way more tiring than spending weeks in the open ocean, you can't really get your head down due to the amount of traffic, from fishing boats to fast ferries and all the other commercial traffic, it's like "Whacky Races". Anyway, on arrival the office was closed and when I called the number written on the door the boy told me the Marina was closed for the weekend?? Aye right! I had contacted them before I made the crossing and they told me there would be someone there 24hrs, I tied up to the fuel dock and I eventually tracked the chap down who sorted me out with a space for the boat thank goodness, case of crossed wires with my dodgy Spanish pronounced in a Scottish accent. It's a super friendly place, cheap as chips, worth a weekend visit if your ever on holiday in Southern Spain and fancy a wee ferry ride, and let's face it, a whole town that sells duty free booze can't be bad can it!


My favourite statue in Melilla, couldn't find any info on, he's in chains, who ever it was, they must have been a gym in his prison.

So where to next, I'm writing this sitting once again in the Marina under the Rock of Gibraltar, waiting for the Poniente (wind from the west) to bugger off so I can get through the straits of Gibraltar back into the Atlantic, the currents in the straits set to the east so for a small sail boat, if you also have the wind against you, it can be almost impossible and bloody uncomfortable to get through and there is no hurry, I'm always happy to be in Gibraltar.


I had a hitchhiker on the way to Gib, she was fed and watered, spent the night and shat all over my life raft then buggered off in the morning.


Sunrise on the sea.......

The boat, and me of course are heading west again. The winds are looking good in a few days for the passage through the straits and back to Portugal, The Azores are the next Target but I won't attempt the crossing until May (the season for sailing there is May-October), but May is not far away, we will go to anchor in the harbour at Portimão and watch the weather and press the go button when I get a half decent window.

As much as the Southern Spain jaunt never went as expected on the weather front, the time and a few boisterous sails has given both myself and Confidence a chance to get our sea legs back and we are ready for the passages ahead to the Azores and onwards to the UK, so, all good, exciting times........


Dolphins in the approach to Gibraltar.