Spain - Day 3 Travelling

Got up late, ate lunch late, haven't eaten dinner, yet.  It's a choice between swordfish or MacDonald's.  More on this later.

We went to Girona as a French family in the hotel told us it was a must.  (Yes, that's the word in French.)  First we got lost, then we found the Old Town, but there was no parking closer than marathon distance, so we gave it up and left.


The weather got crappier and crappier as we headed south, but we're listening to a good book on CD, the name of which I no longer remember.  But it's good.

At last we thought we were in with a chance.  The sun started peeking through as we neared Benidorm.  We exited the autoroute and climbed the hill to Finestrat, pulled up as near as we could to the house (it's a no parking zone), emptied half the car and opened the mailbox with a coin to retrieve the key.  No key.

We made acquaintance with all the neighbours who were assuring themselves that we were really amigos de Roberto and even new phone friends -- the husband of and the woman who now owns Sheila's mobile.  "Did you try calling them?" she asked.  "Yes, I did, but I got you."  I had to explain this several times before she caught on.  She was nice, tried the apartment where Bob & Sheila currently reside (no answer; I knew that) and gave us Sheila's new number.  The mobile is turned off.

We know they are supposed to be back tonight, so we keep calling.  As of now, we are having coffee and wifi at McDo.  Well, I am.  Nick is in the car park feeding the dogs.

If necessary, we will park in front of the apartment and sleep in our rather comfortable van.  I don't mind looking for a hotel, but I do mind looking for a hotel at 10 o'clock at night with two not-small dogs.

I guess we'll go for the swordfish.  We have a long night ahead of us.

Spain - Day 2, Figueres

Figueres isn't bad, whatever the comment I saw on some reservations site.  The part we're in could best be described as functional, but we're only a couple of minutes from the old and pretty centre with its old buildings and some Moorish architecture.

Not too far from Barcelona, either, so I'm waving, Carina.

It was not 20° and sunny as promised, but we left the dogs in their 3-star kennel with balcony and set off for the Dali Museum.  The outside is totally weird.  The inside is beautiful.  It is a reconstructed Moorish theatre in the round.  Describing the visit is beyond my vocabulary, so I won't even try.  Suffice it to say, we're here because I thought we ought to get some culture before we become complete rubes, but it turned out to be a detour well worth making.

I gave out at the jewel collection (flashy is not the word) and we came back to the hotel, collected the dogs and returned to the centre.  We had a late lunch and walked around looking at the closed shops.  (Siesta.)

Finally we went to the hypermarket and bought some grated cheese to sprinkle over last night's dinner for the dogs.  (They didn't eat it for breakfast, either.)  They ate and are now fast asleep.

We're now looking forward to dinner in the hotel, again, if for nothing else, for the service.

Spain - Day 1

It's a four and a half hour trip to Fuegeres, but with a stop in Avignon to leave a drill for repair, a lunch and pipi stop, and a coffee and pipi stop, we made it in six.

The Trave is a nice hotel, decorated with thought and very clean.  Good restaurant (bad lighting) with properly trained waiters!  Such a pleasure!  Hot rolls, too; I can't remember the last time I had those.  We had Menu No. 1: crudites and charcuterie, paella and melon (too early) for dessert.  Nice house wine.  We're still in the North, so most people speak French as well as Catalan and Spanish and some English.  We are  carrying our Spanish dictionary and do try.

Dogs won't eat, of course.  Little ingrates, after all the walks they got.

Faits Divers

Faits divers = This & that; In brief

Actually, the weather is perfectly lousy, but I live in hope.

I am not allergic to my cats. I am allergic to chemo: runny nose, leaking eyes. If only I had stock in Kleenex.

I've started up my book blog, again. (See sidebar) I missed it.

Blood tests have never bothered me; they're just a pin prick. About three weeks ago, I had one that hurt. I blamed the nurse. Then, the following weeks they hurt, too, and I've been bleeding more. This week I yelped. A year and half of constant pin pricks has taken its toll. However, the hospital staff tell me that the patch that I don't wear prior to chemo to deaden the pain (because it doesn't hurt) will work on my arms. We shall see when I have the scan.

* * *

O.K., I've had the scan. Patch worked like a charm; I didn't feel a thing. I am slowly learning to read the scanner reports, but even with a dictionary, I don't really have the education for this. Anyway, results as I interpret them:

Tumour on the ovaries is is pretty much unchanged.

The pulmonary (?) microtumours, which the reports seem to mention as the mood takes them and don't seem to worry the doctors (so I haven't mentioned them, either) are still, or again, there.

The small tumour on my liver, which no one has mentioned before, but I see reported for the first time last May, has shrunk.

I swear the last time the oncologist told me there was nothing but the tumour on the ovaries, so I have to ask, again. The radiologist said he thought I'd be going back for chemo, but I have an appointment with the oncologist in Lyon on April 19th. He will decide.

I also visited my GP last night to refill my regular prescription. She asked how I was walking and I said, "Badly." Evidently, this is also the Taxol. She said I should practice walking properly to stimulate the nerves in my feet. She thought walking in sand would be good. So I told her we were going to Spain. She thought it was a joke.

But it isn't! We leave on Monday and will be gone until the 16th when we'll return to repack and go to Lyon overnight on the 18th.

Our friends near Benidorm are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary today with a party in England. On the 10th they are having another "small" party in Spain. (They bought out the restaurant.) The 10th happens to be our 28th anniversary (everyone in England gets married in April for tax reasons), so we're going to the party.

Nick's brother and sister-in-law are joining us for a few days, too. And we intend to stop in Figueres for two nights and see the Dali museum on the way down. On the way back, we're going to spend a couple of nights in the nice little hotel in pretty little Sant Feliu de Gùixols just for the hell of it.

We are taking the dogs. The neighbours will put up with the cats.

Happy Holidays! Talk to you at the end of the month.

The Rain in Spain. . .

. . . is falling everywhere, but who cares? It's a vacation.

We stopped just north of Barcelona in a bar/hostel with immaculate rooms and a charming owner who speaks French and loves dogs. Catch me giving the dogs packs of ham meant for the customers.

Then, two days with friends near Benidorm, helping to empty their fridge before they depart for South America for three months. And we figure they won't be needing all their DVDs until they come back, either.

Next, Almeria and six days with Nick's brother and sister-in-law. Carole automatically gave the leftovers to the dogs. Chili? They ate it. Leftover paella? They ate it. I'm not sure they wanted to come home.

Then we did the whole thing in reverse, adding a stop for lunch with a friend near Perpignan.

If this seems a boring account, it's true that we did nothing much. Loved seeing everyone and enjoying their hospitality. Ate, drank and rested. No computer, no telephone. It was the perfect vacation.

And we got out just before the snows came.

Manana. . .

. . . or later.

Next chemo session will be 22 December, so we have new plans.

We'll be going skiing for Christmas and off to Spain on the 27th where we'll spend New Year's.

On Friday I'll be having an "emergency" blood test. An emergency for the lab, not for me. They have to get the results out within a couple of hours in case I need an injection before the chemo.