In the morning I stop at Lidl for supplies, and then head east, across the border into Spain. It is a very hot day. I do a lot of driving. I see the looming shadow of Seville, but decide not to stop there. I may go back over the next couple of months, but by bus.
The landscape of Andalucía is a massive contrast to that of the Algarve and Alentejo, which is all I have seen since November, 4 months. The landscape is how I expect Mexico to look. When I arrive at Chipiona, looking for surfable beaches, I am shocked a little. The town seems to be a shadow of a once bustling community. There are many redundant buildings. There are kids everywhere riding on mopeds, and people sitting at cafes. I think it may be a school holiday, and families are enjoying the early start to the summer. The Spanish voices are a welcome change to that of the Portuguese. I leave Chipiona, heading south, in the search of somewhere a little more inviting.
I stop at a campsite, but it is not inviting, so I head on. I see a formal road sign for another campsite, and follow the signs. I end up going down a lane which seems to lead to a disused airfield. It doesn’t look good. My spirits are down. I have driven many miles and not found the oasis in Andalucía that I hoped to find. The lane eventually leads to a campsite. I check-in. In my deflated state the campsite doesn’t look so good. After choosing a place, and doing my jobs I walk to the beach, as the site has its own access. I take a walk and my spirits return. Several people have been surfing, but the wind has picked up, making the waves look bad now. I sit and watch the people for a while. After dinner I feel better again. The van is ready again, and so am I. I hope over the next few days I can find somewhere good to free camp, and some good surfing waves.
Spain is 1 hour ahead of Portugal, and this change of time gives me an extra hour in the evening. The warm evening is lighter than I am used to.