The Rain in Spain....
The Margravina and I had a week on the Valencian coast (Wednesday-Wednesday). The odd travel days were because originally the trip was supposed to be my son and I going to watch football at the Mestalla (Valencia v Athletic Bilbao) but due to a family illness he had to cancel. The sharp-eyed news followers amongst you will have noted the significance of the timing and location. To clarify, this is what I looked out on, on Monday morning last week.
The first part of our week had been filled with walks on a sunny beach and swims in the warm sea. Lovely and healing. We knew that the middle part of our week would be wetter, but forecasts got worse and worse. We'd been getting text alerts (the ones with the scary noise) all through Sunday telling people to stay in place due to Storm Adam and move to a higher floor if they were on the ground. I estimate it rained almost solidly for 30 hours and at times the rain was horizontal even seeping under the balcony doors having penetrated the shutters. We couldn't get out until Tuesday. Fortunately we were on the first floor and power and water remained on throughout (though we cooked a massive batch of pasta just in case). By Tuesday we were sick of pasta and Vermouth. First world problems.
During Monday a Guardia Civil boat floated slowly down the street with evacuees on board. Slightly more bizarrely, a chap came past on a paddle board. I don't know if he was "official" and was looking to see if anyone needed help or was just a curious tourist.
It was sad walking around on the Tuesday by when most of the water had drained away, seeing people clear out their furniture and other possessions. There was no one in the ground floor flats of the block we were in but they will have an unpleasant visit when next they go - ironically one of the occupants had recently said they were planning to sell. There were plenty of council employees out and about cleaning up the place - an impressive number for such a small municipality.
We had to leave the hire car where it was due to the water damage but were able to get a taxi back to the airport on Wednesday and had a very smooth trip back where the train and bus connections back in Blighty were perfectly timed. We were able to leave the trouble behind but lots of people are not so lucky.
Water - the Prequel.
On the flight out from the UK I looked down as we were over the northern French coast and saw this:
| Cotentin Peninsula in the background. River One and Caen Canal in the foreground. About halfway between the two you might be able to spot a semi-circular formation in the sea by the coast. |
Here it is zoomed in:
UK residents will know about the two storms of the past few days. Saturday was probably the worst day down here in the south east of the country. Saturday just happened to be a football away day in Gillingham for us Mariners. So whilst David-in-Suffolk was down the road at Re-PLAY I was at the Priestfield Stadium watching a surprise 4-1 win for Grimsby in the pouring rain. A repeat of the scoreline from 6 months ago, when short sleeves and sunglasses were the order of the day.
I'm beginning to wonder if there had been divine intervention because for the second time there this year I bumped into a London-based priest (originally from Grimsby) and some of his fellow clerics. Must be something to do with the fish on the club badge:
| 4-1 again olé olééé! |
Grimsby's first was a thunderbolt which still seemed to be accelerating as it hit the back of the net. But the star of the show was undoubtedly our Faroese-Magyar Géza Dávid Turi who made two of the goals and scored one himself https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQ6DskfE4RE
One of the best things about these away days is the chance to catch up with friends and family. There was a good turnout from the southern based exiles, as well as the usual faces who seem to be at every game wherever it is being played. The train journeys there and back, time in the pub, and in the ground before kick-off and at half-time, all provided good opportunities for a chinwag.
Afterwards, as a late birthday present, my son took me to see Jeff Wayne's The War of the Worlds in concert. Got to say it was excellent. Mollie Marriott as Beth the Parson's wife, could give Julie Covington a run for her money on that showing. I've spent the last two days with various choons ear-worming their way round my brain. Oo-laaaaaa!


