The Road To Nowhere

Is a place that does not live up to expectations, and that´s where we went on one of our road trips the other day. It wasn´t so much a “nowhere” space, more of an “odd place” that had absolutely nothing in common with it´s surroundings.

Sat on the side of a hill, a fair way back (and up) from the salt lakes at Torrevieja, the views would have been spectacular, except they were blocked.

See Las Salinas here.  

More detail here.

[Photos taken from the posh hotel we stayed in last year for a week, where all it´s redeeming features were either closed or used on a “pay as you go” system. At the main restaurant a sirloin steak covered in chocolate cost 37 euros. No thanks. Just to put the tin hat on things, we both got some kind of virus and came home a day early. Typical]

I digress,, the road to nowhere led us up dale and downhill and uphill again, past fields and fields of new crops planted in perfect straight rows. Golf courses, one of which Jack Nicklaus designed. Dramatic mountains in the distance. Forests of trees as far as the eye could see,, and then we got there.

Oh dreary me, what a let down, call it a mix of two jigsaw puzzles sat on a wonky table, there it sat totally out of place. Eyes down and the narrow roads of a true Spanish village were in sight. Eyes up and what should have been quaint rustic houses lining the roads were three storey high apartment blocks {the limit of height in our province} Two restaurants and one bar in the back streets and that was it, no views visible AT ALL even though the place was surrounded by them.

So we sat at the “bar between apartments” and had a drink. {Two opposites: Sexonthebeach cocktail for me, and tonic water for Dave the driver…}

With buildings squeezed so close together, forget seeing anything else, it was truly claustrophobic. The only saving grace was the peace and quiet, just five humans in sight. One was the guy who served us, unfortunately the others were four Brits who glared at us in the same way as a stranger going into a bar in a spaghetti western film. We got the impression they were trying to drive us out when one of them placed his smartphone on their table to watch an Irish football game. With sound on FULL BLAST, good grief it echo echoed. Intimidating it was.

I even had a vision of tumbleweeds rolling past.

The Irish are or can be, ignorant people when there´s three or more of them together in a mixed society of peace and harmony. Sorry if you´re Irish, but that´s a fact.

Well at least the drive there and back was nice, so I took some less than perfect photos from the car whilst headed home:

A salt lake through the windscreen {Roof down, side windows up, saves your woolly thermal hat blowing off}

2016-09-04 18.06.07

Mountains in the background.

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A Brit canal tunnel?

2016-09-04 18.11.56

Sorry about the Mercedes dashboard in the way.

2016-09-04 18.11.33

The entrance to the Golf and Country club.

2016-09-04 18.09.51

Good grief, another car!

2016-09-04 18.09.59

I suspect it means turn left.

2016-09-04 18.12.20

So green, so close to the Med sea, never ceases to amaze…

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