Six nights up in the Sierra Nevada. Six nights on one site – a record for us. But well worth it. With Sun-searchlights switched on to main beam we move back down to the coast.
Short journey of 120K sees us pitched up at the exotic sounding Camping Laguna Playa. Laguna Playa in this neck of the woods loosely translates as gravelly & grotty. Obviously this is not the posh part of Torre del Mar. Like many coastal pitches aesthetics don’t figure in the equation. We’re allocated “Plot 74”. With no intentions of kicking the bucket just yet, we look lively and take a beach-side stroll.
It gets greyer. So do we. Will we really stay more than a couple of nights here?
Many toilet facilities in Spain have movement sensitive lighting. Some stay on for minutes, others just seconds. So if you’re alone in a block, you have to develop multi-tasking skills. For instance, at one site while cleaning your teeth, you had to keep the lights on by girating your butt, Renault Megane style. At our Sierra Nevada site a loo trip proved trickier than most. The other person in the toilet block finishes and leaves. I’m alone quietly sitting. After a few minutes the main lights go off. A few seconds later my cubicle light follows suit. I shake my right arm around. Nothing. I then raise it Heil Hitler style and hey presto. Light. Nine seconds later they’re off again. Sieg Heil. Light. I do this a few times until I realise, although I’m very much alone, and in the dark, this is not very PC. I use both arms. Make my own mini Mexican-Wave. Repeat this action every nine seconds. It proves to be counter productive to the purpose of my visit. An alternative disposition required. Thinks. Solution reached. A gentle nodding of the head, more in keeping with one of the inmates portrayed in One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, does the trick.
Today’s fine weather see’s us take time out from our busy schedule and go no further than the nearest set of loungers. About a 300 metre walk. Sea still too cold for a dip. Nothing but grey sand, grit and pebbles.
