It has been said, at various times through history, and I’m sure by a wide variety of people, that “It is not the destination, but the Journey.” I find myself, sitting in the comfort of our home here in Southern Spain, wholeheartedly agreeing with the wise soul who first coined this pearl of wisdom. My consensus is no fickle statement, dear reader, for I have not sat, couch potato-like in the comfort of my own home for but one night. No Siree, I, along with my trusty sidekick, co-conspirator and navigator supreme (not to mention my partner) Miki, have been adrift on the roads of Europe for ten fascinating weeks, from the heat of the Costas, to the mists of the Western Isles, and all points in between. The things we have seen, the fun we have had, in our microcosm of home that we call the Boomobile, I describe in gory detail in this weighty tome. But, as the risqué comedian Frankie Howerd might have said, before you delve into our delights, let me have the temerity to leave you with my own twist on that dog-eared phrase; The Journey IS the destination.
July 9th, 2007 : Santa Barbara Bound, and then some.
We finally left the shackles of Albir behind after almost three days of solid preparation, stocking the Boomobile, (the affectionate nom de plume with which we’d christened our motorhome) and scratching our heads trying to remember what we’d forgotten. However, once we’d passed Javea, Albir and home became a distant memory, and our excitement for the enormous trip ahead grew. Miki was doing a good impression of a pinball, bouncing off the walls of the Boomobile with unbridled delight. Forsaking the back roads we normally love in order to get some kilometres under our belt, Miki and I kept faith with the Autovia until well north of Valencia before heading inland and overnighting in a small town called Santa Barbara, a nondescript little village sharing nothing more than its name with the rather more racy American city. Nevertheless, we passed a nice quiet, uneventful night here, complete with our new chains and padlocks to keep the unemployed Romanians out. (Yep, that’s right, Political Correctness is dead and buried right here folks!)
We had resolved to get a reasonably early night, as Miki wanted to do some drawings of the nearby fields and buildings at first light. Sleep came reluctantly, as our minds were buzzing like a child’s on Christmas night, wondering what the coming days had in store for us.
Text by Kev Moore
Drawing & Photos by Miki
Both on Planet Goodaboom
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