The route from Seville to Calahonda, between Marbella and Fuengirola is probably the easiest of the drives so far. Down from the plains of Seville through some stunning mountains and drop down to the coast line.
The last bit of the journey consists of numerous viaducts and tunnels on new toll motorways. Once again though, not as expensive as France. Most of the tolls are manned by pleasant Spanish girls, greeting you with a hello, how are you when the see it is a British number plate and I'm busy scrambling from one side of the vehicle to the other. Needless to say they're probably thinking " another Essex crook escaping British justice' or something of the sort.
As I drop down the mountains to the coast I get my first view of the Mediterranean Sea, glistening in the afternoon sunshine. A welcome sight. It's another beautiful day. Very warm, it will be more than acceptable if the weather stays like this for the next month or so.
Once on the coast road the traffic gets quite busy. I follow the signs to Malaga, passing the numerous hotels that play host to the drunken 18-30's during the hot summer months and the oldies who can't or won't pay the astronomical UK power prices in the winter. Of course I'm not one of the latter, I'm a free spirit. A nomadic gypo
The place I have chosen to stay is a site called Cabopino. It's about equidistant between Marbella and Fuengirola. Although could have booked through the trusty caravan club 'winter escapes' magazine, when I looked on the website the prices were pretty similar to going direct. I also thought there was maybe an opportunity to get a better deal for a longer stay. My plan was to put down roots here till mid January.
I pulled into the site, parked up and went into reception. I asked the lady what the best price was for over 30 days and she gave me a figure which was more attractive than both the web site and the caravan club magazine. Job done. I was given a map and told to go and find a spot then come back to formally check in.
The site was certainly packed, mostly with motorhomes but also some caravans. Their were some lovely vehicles. Mine was certainly one of the smallest. Many looked bigger than some of the articulated trucks I had passed on the way down. The plots were nothing if not cosy. Quite a tight squeeze, especially with my reversing skills. Christ knows how some of the vans got in. After driving up and down for a while I chose my favoured spot, reversed in and was installed in my new home for the next month.
The reason I has chosen the site, apart from location was the proximity to the beach, the fact that it had an indoor swimming pool and a bar. It was Oslo close to the little town of Calahonda and the supermarket.
I wandered back to the reception to settle up and advise the receptionist where I was parked up. I'd read, whilst doing my research that bottles of gas are quite difficult to get hold of. You have to either have a Spanish address or have a bottle to exchange. Apparently this is due to the fact that numerous people have been killed by unscrupulous gas sellers and this the governments response. You often hear stories like this and I took it with a pinch of salt. Unfortunately it was correct. The receptionist told me that it would be very difficult to get hold of one but I might try the garage across the road and they would be able to give me address in Marbella, about 15km away. I did as suggested and the person in the garage had no idea. First problem!
I had bought a full bottle of Calor gas before I left, unfortunately I had no idea how much was left, I'd been using it to cook and heat the water for the last week. Better put my thinking cap on?
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Location:Artola,Spain
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