Day Fifteen

Saturday 19th July

Spain: Playa D’aro to
Spain: Arboleas

My blog writing has continued apace but access to the internet in Spain was poor with no 3G so I’m still behind!

Saturday morning and the heat drove us out of Priscilla early. Johnny cooked up some lunch whilst I packed up Priscilla. We had to leave the campsite by midday but Johnathon’s flight wasn’t until 5pm so we had some time to kill and decided to hit the beach one final time together.

We took Priscilla up to the car park outside of the campsite and dropped into reception to pay. It was packed full of people with a long wait to pay. As Johnathon queued up a new drama unfolded in front of me, I couldn’t find my passport!

I looked everywhere but to no avail. We asked at the reception, but they knew nothing. My last memory of the passport was showing it as we checked into the campsite. I was convinced the reception had kept it and that by now it had made its way onto the black market. Its sentimental I know, but my passport is such a personal thing, its got stamps in from many of the countries I’ve visited over the last 9.5 years, its my own little piece of history and I felt much sadness at its loss. I gave the campsite reception a hard time but it was useless. I’d searched all the obvious places in Priscilla and after an hour of stressing I gave up, resigning myself to the possibility of a trip to an English embassy and the necessary faffing around and delays that this would entail. It was Sunday and nothing more I could do about it so we headed off to the beach as planned.

The waves were crashing onto the beach as a sea breeze blew in. It made for great fun as the waves threw us around, so much so that one of the breaks threw me underwater, ripping off my sunglasses, lost to the undercurrent. That will teach me to ponce around in the sea with my sunnies on!

We tucked into Johnathon’s lunch on the beach as the sun beat down. It was fun watching everyone being happily tossed about by the waves but too soon it was time for a shower and the short trip to the airport. It was a sad journey, knowing that we wouldn’t be seeing each other for a couple of weeks, we were both very solemn. I dropped J outside the terminal doors, we said our goodbyes, I couldn’t look back at him as he disappeared into the airport terminal; I was battling back my tears and had to pull myself together for the long journey to Andalusia ahead of me.

As I travelled the 850KM down coast to Andalusia I felt an intense sense of loss and sadness, leaving my best friend, partner and lover behind, a significant part of me was lost. I tried lifting my spirits by blasting repeated airing of my theme tune for the adventure; the sound track to The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Dessert. With speakers pounding, I sang myself silly as Priscilla rode the kilometres with impressive speed, as if somehow propelled by the soundtrack. We had weeks of adventures ahead of us and my sadness at loosing my travelling companion was slowly being replaced with a giddy sense of nervous anticipation.

Stopping only for fuel and the bathroom I made the journey in less than 7 hours. The roads being free flowing, I pulled into my parent’s villa moments before 11pm to looks of complete amazement, my family not expecting me to until the early hours of the next day.