Winter Sun! Snowbirds in Nerja, Andalusia

Zagan the motorhome is sat under a pastel blue sky, being warmed by the low morning rays of the sun as it eases itself above the calm waters of the Med. Palm fronds fill the skylight above me and, through the side window, tropical plants in the foreground give way to green hills flecked with white villas, and beyond that the ridges of mountains. We’re in Aula de Naturaleza camping a kilometre or so outside Nerja, on the Andalusian coast between Motril and Málaga (N36.747411, W3.898575).

The last time we popped up a post we were in Castile-La Mancha off up to the north and now we’re a four-hour drive south. What happened? There’s a ton of fascinating stuff to see between here and there, but whenever we pulled up a weather forecast it spelled out cloud, rain and cold up there, while down here in the coast the yellow orbs lined up like soldiers beneath numbers like 20°C, and we could resist no longer. The route here was easy, rolling down the toll-free E-5 and E-902, past Jaén with its cathedral just visible from the road and through sprawling Granada where Ju could make out the Alhambra (we visited in 2012), but my limited faculties were taken up with a sudden influx of traffic. The white-capped Sierra Nevada off to the left is open for skiing, a different world from when we hauled Zagan up there one spring to find cool air. Beneath them somewhere Chris Stewart’s probably knocking about, the author of good-life-abroad book Driving Over Lemons, who makes a living writing and hosting guests in his Alpajurran home. The further south we came the bluer the sky. Pastel-pink almond blossom splashed on the hills as the motorway ploughed its way through the hills, over viaducts and through the occasional tunnel, eventually revealing the shining sea in the distance. Like kids we shouted up when we spotted it!

Expecting the coast to be busy with fellow sun-seeking motorhomes, we opted to try and get into a campsite for our first few nights until we got a feel for just how busy it was, and had Camping Tropical in Almunecar plotted into the satnav. Now rolling parallel to the coast, the road was busier and the site entrance was at an awkward angle, so we just managed to get into the bus stop outside the entrance and Ju nipped into the scope it out. When she returned it wasn’t good news: the place was rammed, cheek by jowl. Whoooooeeee. OK. Plan B time.

We popped in the co-ordinates for here and scooted along the motorway, getting a wee sense of déjà vu as we left the motorway and turned down the hillside towards the sea, past a petrol station with a motorhome service point and a dedicated motorhome washing station complete with a gantry for standing above the roof. It was a Sunday and the closed Lidl had 10 or 15 motorhomes in its car park, it was looking even busier with vanners than we’d expected. Only when we pulled off the road did we realise we’ve been here before, to this exact same spot in 2017, deciding the site looked unappealing (which it does from the entrance, an area of mud parking with bins and a few scattered cars) and burned off into the Sierra Nevada. Ah.

This time it did feel different, as we’re different I guess. This time we’ve no over-heated elderly gent of a pooch to worry about. This time we’ve now spent over five years on-off travelling Europe and North Africa, and the urge to try and see everything and everywhere has somewhat diminished. This time we’re both into running. I’ve a 50 mile run ahead of me in Scotland in May, and we’re both signed up to the Málaga half marathon in March. We’re after different stuff these days, and it was a relief when Ju came back to the van to say we’d got the last spot on the site (it has maybe 40 or 50 pitches, I’ve not counted). In we nipped, removing the bikes from the rack to help us fit into the pitch and hooking up to the leccy mounted on a pole opposite. That was three nights ago and today Ju just paid for us to stay a month. Yep, we’re in like ticks folks, proper snow birds!

Why a month? Well, for one thing we’ve talked often over the years of finding somewhere near the sea in winter and renting an apartment for a few months, but never gotten around to it. This feels like a good way to test out that idea: to see how we got on stationary for a few weeks. It’ll cost us €400 for the pitch, including hook-up and services, which (**I think**) is roughly what we’d pay for an apartment on a long-term let in winter. Nerja also ticks a bunch of boxes for us:

• It’s open! There are a ton of northern European tourists here, with a few Asian tour groups thrown in. There are easily enough people for the shops, bars and restaurants to open up. We’ve wandered around a few hundred places which are shut for the winter over the past years, and it does get a tad disheartening seeing places so lifeless.
• It’s sunny and warm in January, protected from the north by the Sierras de Tejeda, Almijara and Alhama mountains. These same big hills are just a few miles north of the coast so readily accessible for me, with incredible trails to run and hike. They’re a tough challenge too, which I like! My legs are in deep-ache mode two days after a 13 mile ascent-descent to one of the nearest peaks: El Fuerte (The Strong) at around 1000m above sea level.
• It’s really inexpensive compared with UK prices. We ate out yesterday with fellow motorhomers Stuart and Cynthia with their Jack Russel Luna, authors of the flipflopsandwoollyhats.com blog, just (just) managing to finish enormous pizzas at a restaurant which charged all of €4.50 each. In the evening we met up with digital nomad and father of three Andy (also known as Nomadic Dad), supping three drinks in a bar for a total tab of €5. It’s pretty cheap living down here.
• As per the previous point: there are a lot of like-minded and fascinating folks knocking about down here, many of whom speak English. Ju’s Spanish is steadily coming on and I can order stuff and pass a few pleasantries, but it’ll be quite some time before either of us are fluent enough for an engaging conversation in Castilian.
• We’re also happy to have a spot on a campsite. There’s a load of tolerated free motorhome parking possible here out of season, mostly in car parks accessed by a beach road and another large parking area by the town. Just at this moment in time we prefer being here though, where we can get our chairs and washing out guilt-free, and have access to all the services. I know, I know, a previous version of me would be rolling his eyes at my decadence and softness! :-)

We’re a tad nervous though at the idea of staying put for a whole month. Will we get bored and regret it? Will a sudden urge to explore overcome us (although there’s no reason we couldn’t nip out for a few days I guess, or just use the buses to look around)? Will we go campsite-crazy? Or will we get so entrenched we don’t want to leave? Dunno. All of this is, of course, serious first-world problem stuff, but if you’re interested in what happens, watch this space folks. I’ll leave you with a few photos from the past days around Nerja.

Cheers, Jay