No camping allowed!

Christmas has passed us by. In the warm sunlight of the Spanish south, the end-of-year atmosphere doesn't quite come up, despite the Advent wreath we brought with us. But it's not a problem. We didn't expect temperatures like this, let alone sitting almost naked on the beach on Christmas Eve.

We are certainly not the only ones who appreciate it, the number of wonderfully comfortable German motorhomes is considerable. Only the caravan seems to have gone out of fashion, so we are happy to still see a few similar run-down vehicles here and there, mostly with French hippies and many children inside.

The fleet of German mobile tourists seems to have led to camping being prohibited along the coast towards Almeria. At first, we don't think much of it, we constantly encounter such signs and who cares about prohibitions in the European south anyway?

On a parking lot in Mazarron, Zappa adjusts the brakes of the caravan. Before that, we take a short nap and set up our folding chairs and makeshift tables in the sun. It doesn't take long and a friendly Spaniard points out to us that camping is forbidden here, you can apparently stay for 48 hours, but then the police comes and drives us away. We noticed the signs and we don't want to stay here, but we politely thank him and pack up our lunch break equipment.

We continue towards Almeria, against our usual habits, on a site that is already populated by several motorhomes. The view is beautiful, various birds nest in the yellow sandstone caves and chirp, and the camper density is bearable, even if our direct Bavarian neighbor is showing off a bit.

After breakfast in the fiery red sunrise the next morning and a quick dip in the cold sea, we pack up the folding chair and makeshift table and want to move on. A little problem with the car battery delays our departure and so we witness the appearance of the local municipal authorities. Our Bavarian neighbor has his camping chair in front of his fancy mobile home and we assume that he has been staying here for more than one night. The municipal officials make it clear to him that camping is prohibited here and impose a fine on him. I can't help but grin maliciously, but the two are already at our vehicle as well. The hood is open, no camping furniture in sight, and the caravan is just an appendage. The municipal officials are very polite and inform us that wild camping along the entire coast to Capo is strictly prohibited. But we are not camping, they explain to us with a smile: no chair, no table, no camping!
Thank you once again, dear great god of coincidence! We now have a new tactic: avoiding places with many Germans altogether, placing the makeshift table on the tow bar and setting up the folding chairs on the beach a few meters away from the chateau.