Posted by: Team McSlade | March 9, 2010

Nothing to do, somewhere to go.

Since gorging ourselves on the pub fare (see Here in Spain, I am a Spaniard), we have kept ourselves fairly low. Figuratively, due to our centre’s of gravity being brought closer to the earth significantly; and literally, as the rain in Spain has fallen mainly on the plain (unless you live in the foothills of Gandia, where it seems to rain a bucket load too).

We are still in the grips of ‘unseasonal cold weather’ with a maximum of 12 degrees forecast for the best part of the next week. Don’t fret, we are told that when the weather gets better, it’ll be awesome (insert your own favourite emoticon here). In class today a couple of Fins/Finlandés/Finanese (sorry Reija and Mikko) were even protesting that they could head back to Finland and it would be warmer than here! Still, they don’t have Film Comedy in Finland and back in Australia I’d be dragging myself into work instead of writing this in bed, so I’ll take a few cold and rainy days and grin.

And that is what your friendly neighbourhood Team McSlade did on Saturday, they grinned at the overcast weather and wandered into the foothills of Llocnou. At the Medieval Meat Fest 3000 of Rotóva, a walking trail map was handed to us on purchase of my Vernissa Viu t-shirt, so we decided to see the other side of the valley on foot. A short dainty jaunt took us past orange groves, up a steep road – which proved its steepness by having some of the concrete slide off the road, seriously, it was no longer there – and we were quickly up into the rarefied air and staring back over Llocnou and Almiserá at our house.
A few ‘happy’ snaps of the kiddies and a couple of a man standing precariously on a pine tree (as you’ll see below). We trekked on to the top of the hill where some form of camp was or had been set up. Yep, I’d love to get blown off the top of a hill for a scout camp, that’d be aces. Views were great; kids fought over who saw the trail marker first and we plotted our liberation of more naranjas.

Sadly, in the valley over the back of the hill a cabin set up for hikers had been blitzed. Some peanuts had clearly thought that trashing the joint would be better than allowing others to enjoy it. Now a few burnt mattresses, an old couch and enough apiary equipment (bee boxes and wax frames) to supply a small nation with honey are all that adorn this cabin. It must have been great before the carnage, with a decent bathroom, fireplace and the footings for a long forgotten verandah now left to decay.

Las naranjas were freed from their green captors (read trees) and we came across an old stone bridge that seemed to lead to nowhere. About a foot wide and serving no specific purpose as it led to a cliff. Spain, I love it. The walk finished as we went past a chook shed (it took me back to the Haydos ranch in all its olfactory delight) and a few nicely re-furbished cottages. Oh, and orange groves.

More Hiking photos

Sunday was a dark day, we arose when the church bell struck twelve and Jo almost lost count of the rings. I managed to dodge the rain long enough to go for a twenty minute walk and re-live my own childhood.
Thirty years ago at the Phillip’s farm in Nar Nar Goon (yes, it’s a real place in Victoria, not from a Dr. Suess book) as we played hide and seek, I mistook a cactus for a tree, lent on it and filled my mitt with thorns. Needless to say a few tears, several Mr Men books and Dad with tweezers and that problem was fixed.
Blasting back to the present and a slip on wet grass had me breaking my fall on a thorn bush. Winner. So without the tears, the Mr Men books or Dad, I have rid my hand of about thirty thorns through the course of today (this time, thanks Reija for the tweezers in FC).

Love and a cool glass of naranja, Team McSlade

P.S. Thanks, Muchos Gracias, Kiitos, Tak Dig, Merci, Danke to everyone who has read our rantings, in just under a month of having this site running, you have got us to 997 hits (at time of typing).

Below I am perched precariously, with aptly named T-shirt supplied by Raw Power Wine, do yourself a favour, check it out (click the link) and buy a dozen – it’s better than Penfold’s Grange Hermitage (in my books anyway, as I’ve been treated to the Raw Power Experience)

  I wanna be macerated…



  1. You can take the boy out of Australia but not….
    True to form, despite the said cold conditions, Ryan is still in shorts!
    Love your posts guys – thanks for including us all.
    Nik x

  2. Wind in the willows

  3. Needles to say the least!

  4. Go Rawley !!!!!!

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