I declared myself fit enough to drive. I just needed a supply of pañuelos [tissues] in the cab with me. Francine had searched and searched and searched but could find nowhere appealing to stop in between Granada and our old haunt of the Costa Blanca, a distance of about 340kms. We’ve booked in to a wonderful sounding small campsite in Acalalí to meet some of our old friends in and around Jalón but we needed something in between.
On the coast at Elche is Hondo, one of my old Costa Blanca dragonfly locations. Within spitting distance of it is the Alannia Costa Blanca resort. Now, this is very definitely not our normal habitat and to some extent we booked it out of pure devilment, to see what on earth it would be like. This is a campsite of … wait for it … 1432 pitches. Yikes! You can allegedly cycle 5kms around the campsite.
We set sail from Granada at 09:15. With autovias pretty much all the way we covered the 340kms trip comfortably in about five hours. Back country Spain seems to vary between looking like a quarry, to looking like scrubland that nobody wants to do anything with. On this journey we saw plenty of both and no wonder there was nowhere appealing to stay. We certainly didn’t see anything that said, “come and relax here”.
The mercury hit 34°C as we approached on the autovia del Mediterraneo and frankly, the journey, though the longest yet, had been a doddle. If there’s nowhere to stop, you may as well drive. We turned in to the Alannia complex, and I do mean complex.
I have to say that we checked in with some trepidation, due to the immense size of the place. Happily, so far my fears were unfounded. We were directed to a pitch, though we could have changed, but there’s no need. We have a 95m2 “comfort” pitch (which I think is the basic pitch, large-ish by Spanish standards) and Frodo’s awning is nicely oriented for providing shade against the 34°C sun. Well, let’s face it, this is why we’re here. We’ve also lucked out by being on the edge of an area with no pitches immediately in front of us; instead there is a tree-lined pedestrian walkway so we aren’t staring at anyone else.
After relaxing, Francine investigated the on-site supermarket and, to her delight, having been suffering withdrawal symptoms, she found a bottle of Ricard. This place just keeps getting better.
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