Vacationing in Spain

We left Sitges and headed southwest along the coast of Spain in search of a quiet fishing village. We picked Pensacola for two reasons. First, it was a small dot on the map at the end of a road on a point of land jutting into the sea, and second, because of its name . . . we´d been to Pensacola, FL. Good logic.

What we found was not small. The rocky promentory was topped with a Moorish castle and walled village of white washed houses. Stretching in a curve for 8 kilometers was a beautiful, sandy beach lined with highrise apartments and hotels . . . mostly empty. It was not yet the high season and we had our choice of rooms. We picked a small hotel with 7 floors and only 40 rooms. Our 6th floor, newly remodeled room was just 25 euros each per night, including breakfast. We stayed three days.

We awoke the first morning to a spectacular sunrise or, according to my pocket translater, ¨salida del sol¨ or ¨walk-in the sun¨. As the sun slowly reddened the sky, we could see a fleet of 18-20 fishing boats parading out to sea from their snug harbor about 5 kilometers away and hear the almost inaudible droan of their engines. What a sight (exclamation point---which I can´t find on this machine).

It reminded me of the sunrise we saw on Jan. 1, 2001, as we left Avalon on Liberty Call to head back to Dana Point from Catalina Island. Gene´s granddaughter, Crystal, propped herself in front of the mast, snuggled down into her sleeping bag and waited for the sun to come up. She didn´t want to miss it. Crystal had her own ¨salida del sol¨ this past May when her daughter Addison made her grand entrance into this world. We can´t wait to see them when we are in Nebraska in late July.

The next night was a stop in a beach town, Miramar, where it was raining, then on to Roquetas del Mar in a highrise apartment on the beach overlooking the Mediterranean. By the way, swim suits are optional all along this coast. It´s been interesting watching people ¨people watching¨.

We drove thru Valencia, which, of course, is a mass of orange groves. Then we started seeing hydroponic, white plastic covered greenhouses . . . about a hundred miles of them, erected between the sea and the mountains. They call this the vegetable gardens of Europe.