
Dehesa Miles, Jamón Slices, and a Cool Hill Town
We left Zafra with the van feeling slightly smug, chairs stowed, fridge behaving, the kind
We are Kevin and Mary, two retired post office owners from Hull who traded the hustle and bustle of parcels and postage for a rolling home on four wheels.
Camp España is the story of our first mobile journey through Spain.

We left Zafra with the van feeling slightly smug, chairs stowed, fridge behaving, the kind

Zafra sneaks up on you. Flat fields and quiet cattle for miles, then tiles and

The road out of Mérida pulls you into nothing. Fields. Stunted olive trees. A ridge

We were nearly gone. Bags packed, fridge humming again in the van, Mary wearing her

We slept like we’d been tranquilised. Shutters half shut, fan ticking, no clinking from the

We got to Mérida just after 8pm, which for Spain is still the middle of

We pulled off near Trujillo because the toilet was full, the fridge was making a

We didn’t exactly rush out of Porto. The van stayed put until the sun had

We stayed in Porto after the sun went down. No rush to get back to

We’d left Viana do Castelo late, hugging the coast where we could. Porto didn’t welcome

We slid into Portugal like we were sneaking out of a party we never got

We didn’t walk the Camino. Let’s get that out of the way upfront, before the

We were warned. Back in Viveiro, a man selling sardines out of a cooler box

We should have known the Costa da Morte would push us around a little. The

We didn’t mean to end up in wine country. Not in the way people plan

We weren’t even sure we wanted to go. Finisterre, the so-called “end of the world,”

I don’t know why we nearly skipped Carnota. It was just a name on the

The drive to Ortigueira started off well enough. The road hugged the coastline, offering up

No lorries on the road this morning. A couple of farm vans, one guy on

Madrid was loud, fast, and exhausting. We’d spent weeks in the quiet of northern Spain,