Charlie’s parked in a beach car park, having just had two free nights out…wild. at n38.14858 w0.63201 just south of Alicante.
A week ago or so, before Benidorm, we chanced our arm wild camping on a beach, along with half a dozen other vans, all parked tidy, no chairs out, ‘Parking’ more than ‘Camping’. The sign to the car-park clearly showed a picture of a Caravan and a tent, with the cover-all statement “No Camping”. Well, we were all happy, smack bang on a beach, off the road, all tucked up for the night. We did get through the night, but at 08:00 the next morning (me still Zzzzz away)
KNOCK!!, KNOCK!!, it’s the local plod, knocking on all the Camper vans doors. So I leap out of bed, de-plug, (cock-a-doo-dle abatement) shorts on & shoot outside.
Plod says – “You can not sleeps here, iz no possible!” at this point, I’ve got to pinch myself, because every time a Spaniard says any line from Faulty Towers’s Manuel script in
‘Spang-lish’, I start smiling & thinking of the scene, (“iz no possible Mr. Faulty!!”) but this isn’t the time or place! I also wanted to stand there, arguing the point that:
A) the prohibition sign picture bears no resemblance to a Motor Home, it’s a Caravan! Charlie’s not a caravan!
B) we are ‘Parking’ not ‘Camping’, there is a distinct difference which you clearly don’t understand!
C) as nobody is using the huge car park, what bloody difference does it make anyhow? Stop being a dago jobs-worth!
But it’s 08:00 in the morning, he’s giving us two hours to move on, (which we would be doing anyway) so what’s the point in getting locked up for the afternoon?
So we all act stupid, thank him very much for giving us two hours & put the kettle on. I should have asked him if he’d brought fresh bread!
That was a few days ago, but last night we had another go. I checked out the ‘Wild camping’ POI’s on Autoroute & double checked it with Google earth. It appeared to look like a top spot, on a beach car park, near a restaurant, no signage to indicate ‘no Camping’.
We get there, HUGE signs up ‘NO CAMPING!-NO MOTOR-CARAVANES-NO TENTS’, so what do we do?…we ignore it. Had a lovely walk down the beach, watched a bit of telly & drifted off to the sound of the waves lapping gently on the sand. No harm, no foul…no Plod! They knew we were there. Two different types of Plod, (civil & local?) had been cruising passed earlier, more than once….they left us be, for two nights…some ya win.
We moved on after that, another wild spot, a lovely little cove, one night at Calla Reona (n37.61869 w0.71414) but the ramp from the road to the car park was so short & steep we couldn’t get onto it for fear of losing the tail-light bar, so we backed up into a parking area near by and could still hear the waves lapping the shore in the night…just. Since then, we’ve had a week of wild spots, free and normally within 100m of a beach.
Top marks this week go to Rick, you guessed it…Benidorm! Well… what do you say about it? It’s all you imagine it to be. Imagine Blackpool with a thousand high-rise hotels & wall to wall sunshine. Every other pub has a union flag hanging outside. Thirty stag parties per square mile. Every menu advertises English food, fish & chips, full roast dinners, John Smiths & Tetley’s, beer (& Guinness). It’s a home from home…if that’s what you want. Ok I’ll admit, I did partake of the Irish milk a little, Arther’s black gold goes down lovely in this heat! Slauncher (again).
We visited the Benidorm palace & the Solana hotel, just to say ‘we’d seen it. The cycling along the front was really good, cyclists are tolerated in with the promenade walkers, as long as you’re not going too quickly. It seems the best pass-time in Benidorm is to all get dressed up in the most bizarre outfit you can find, go out about 2pm and slowly get shoveled till the early hours. Do this as many times as you can during your holiday, then it should all be a blur by the time you get home. I do vaguely remember sampling a little of this routine, when I was 18, but some of these die-hards are older than us! Good luck to’em, they’re in the right place. There are benefits to visiting Beni, as it’s affectionately known, products & shops I thought we’d not see again ’till we got back to the UK. Iceland was a surprise!
Have a good week ‘yall.