Into our 35th country in a motorhome – Andorra

Zagan the motorhome has dragged himself away from his beach-side pitch and is now in the independent principality of Andorra – that little place squished between France and Spain on the map. He’s parked up at the River Shopping Centre in Sant Julia de Lorina (N42.45310, E1.48620) where motorhomes are so welcome to stay in the large car park behind the centre they have provided a service point and broadcast their free WiFi out to the car park.

Admittedly, this is not in the most glamorous of locations, and it prompted us to discuss starting a hashtag for #realvanlife, as opposed to all the #vanlife ones you see with cozy vans, campfires and bikini-clad women doing yoga in the sun. Ours would let you know the (occasionally) true story; shopping centre car parks, neds hooning around said car park at 2am and the need to empty a chemical loo. Not that we’ll have any neds keeping us awake tonight, as we’re under the watchful eye of the shopping centre security guards.

Back at our beach-side pitch, it was Jay’s birthday. We had big plans to celebrate with a meal out in the campsite restaurant, as there were few other eating out options and we’d already been to the beach cafe twice. Collecting our morning croissants (and a couple of birthday double-choc muffins) from the shop, I noticed a sign taped to the door of the restaurant; for the next two days it was going to be open all day instead of shutting between lunch and dinner. Perfect, we could now have a late afternoon lunch.

Love that the campsite had quiet time for siesta

After a late breakfast we had a dip in the sea before Jay headed off for a snorkel. When he got back our neighbours had realised it was his birthday and presented him with an ice cold beer – one of the best presents on a boiling hot day. They asked how old he was, and smiled telling us that we are both still younger than all their children.

Birthday boy off for a morning snorkel

Defences from the Spanish Civil War falling into the sea make for good snorkelling

With rumbling tummies we headed over to the campsite restaurant, the effort to get there in the heat made us both feel a bit dizzy and sick, so we flopped down in the shade of an umbrella and discussed what to eat. A flustered waiter arrived and said something in Spanish, neither of us caught it, so in our best Spanish asked him to repeat it, he did so in English. “The restaurant is closed today, we have a problem in the kitchen. The problem is the staff are not here. The weather is hot today and we are in Spain, so they are not here.” As we were leaving the restaurant to more earnest apologies from the waiter, a member of the reception staff was taping a new sign on the restaurant door.

Nooooo!

Back at the van I rustled up some croquets for lunch and made a tagine for tea while Jay supped the rest of the beer in Zagan, safe in the knowledge that we’d be stopping at a supermarket the following day.

Friday morning our German neighbours left around 9am, as they were planning to get half way home that day. We took our time packing up Zagan and despite a shower I was once again sweating and covered in sand by the time we left. Zagan’s fuel light was on so we popped to the nearby petrol station and filled up before hitting the roads north towards Andorra.

Spanish towns are no longer hill top, now they are mound top, gathering on any small rise

We drove through fields of vineyards looking for any sign of the Pyrenees in the hazy heat ahead of us. Dropping down from a steep hill the landscape around us changed instantly to terraced fields of golden corn as far as we could see, with wiggling lines where the crops had been cut. The stone houses and farms seemed to turn a shade lighter to reflect their surroundings.

Reaching Tarrega, our satnav kindly directed us along a narrow semi-pedestrianised street to bring us to our final Spanish Lidl for a stock up of beer and wine. Pulling into the car park I suddenly had a very familiar feeling, we had visited this Lidl before back in the winter of 2015 when we pootled around Northern Spain for a while after becoming financially free. I am now considering entering Mastermind and my specialist subject will be Lidls of Spain. I’m pretty sure we’ve now been to most of them, some more than once!

A suitably heavy trolley-load was squeezed into Zagan’s cupboards and we headed on to Le Seu d’Urgell, a town just a few kilometres from the border with Andorra which has a free aire right next to the old town (N42.35880, E1.46459). Driving through the town it looked like a nice place to spend a couple of nights. We parked at the aire, but sadly there was no shade. With temperatures reaching the high 30’s outside and not far off that inside Zagan, Jay nipped for a look around to see if he could find a park for us to relax in and keep Charlie cool until the evening. Sadly he didn’t get far enough to find a park as he spotted a huge bonfire built right next to the aire. This weekend is the fiesta of St Juan (St John’s festival) which is celebrated around the world with bonfires. In Spain they add a little extra touch, fireworks.

Aire at Le Seu d’Urgell with bonfire being built at the far end

We love bonfires, we celebrated mid-summer around one in Finland last year, and we also love fireworks. We know that the fiesta would have been a sight to see (in Xabia they have bonfires on all the roundabouts and leap over them) but sadly Charlie doesn’t love fireworks. When he hears a firework his heart races, his eyes bulge and he tries to hide under the front seats. He hates them. He’s already been freaking out at the odd one going off at the beach bar near the campsite, so Le Seu d’Urgell had to go onto the ‘next time’ list.

Glad we weren’t driving from Andorra to Spain as we passed a couple of runners and a group of cyclists all slowing down the flow of Andorran registered Porsches and Mercedes

We headed over the border into Andorra hoping we’d escape the fiesta, but the small fireworks stands by the roadside told us that wouldn’t be the case. The glut of petrol stations also told us that we should have thought before filling up with diesel, we paid €1.10 a litre near the campsite, further north we spotted €0.95 per l, crossing into Andorra it’s €0.87 per l – doh!

There’s an actual border to get into Andorra – with people in the booths!

Fireworks for sale on every spare patch of land by the road

We opted for the glamour of the shopping centre car park as it will be a bit away from any fireworks, hopefully, and it gave me the opportunity for a look around the shops. I’ve nipped into the centre a couple of times, mainly to walk around the frozen food bit as it’s the coolest part, and I am quite disappointed. It is one huge, dimly-lit shop, laid out a bit like a Tesco extra with food on the ground floor and electronics and clothes upstairs. The whole place feels a bit run down and cheap but maybe it’s because we enter from the back, sort of the service entrance. The prices don’t seem that cheap, unless you want booze or cigarettes which adorn every spare inch of floor space – no sweets at the checkout here, it’s turrets made of boxes of cigarettes. However there are limits as to what you can take out of the country, and we’ve heard that motorhomes get stopped and searched so we have kept our receipts from our shops in Spain. We’ve splashed out on a litre of spirits each, a jar of Nutella and a box of Toblerone ice creams, but I know they won’t make it out of the country, so no need to worry about them at customs.

It’s still surprisingly hot in Andorra, but as we are surrounded by mountains the sun will be setting soon. Hopefully Charlie will be able to sleep tonight, which will mean we’ll all get to sleep tonight. Tomorrow we need to have a look at some maps and decide where to head to next.

Ju x