Treasure hunters among themselves

Day 7: We arrived in Sagunto yesterday afternoon. Although that's not entirely true. Our site, which bears the proud name “Camping Malvarrosa de Corinto”, is about nine kilometers outside the city. That's its only disadvantage - it's too far to walk and there are no local transport connections such as buses or trains. We didn't take bikes with us because our dogs couldn't keep up - even at Icke's pace.

Many will now think that we would first recover from the long journey. Are you kidding me? Are you serious when you say that! First of all, we wanted to take the opportunity to take a long shower after washing the cat for six days. Then it was time to do the laundry. This campsite has top facilities, huge, modern washing machines and dryers. This is perfect, although Icke preferred to hang our laundry out to dry in the sunny weather. “Pulling strips was once your job,” she agreed and handed me a few clotheslines that I was supposed to stretch between trees and bushes. “Be glad,” I replied, that I was no longer a journalist. You’d be good for a cover story any day.”

Icke was currently sweeping, dusting, rearranging and putting things away. Anything is better than this, I thought to myself and pulled the leash. My next job was to get the laundry. I passed our parking space where we stood in April last year. It was a German motorhome that had taken up residence here and in front of it there was a small table with knitted socks in all colors. I looked and an older woman came towards me. We chatted for a bit and she told me that she had been doing this for 25 years - together with her husband. As if on command, he suddenly stood behind his wife. “I’ve been knitting for 77 years,” he said with a grin on his face. He saw my surprise and added, “Since I was six.” He was 83 years old! “Knitting apparently keeps you young,” I said and pointed to the two, who introduced themselves as Ingrid and Walter from Heilbronn. Despite all illnesses and other adversities, they have been spending every winter in Spain for many years, the last twelve at this campsite. They know the area better than many locals. So Walter recommended that we definitely stop by the “Spätzle Fritz” a few kilometers further in San Jorge because you can eat excellent food there. Even I can easily remember the name.

We started the evening with a walk by the sea. The beach here is wonderful, fine sand at the top and pebbles at the bottom. I don't know if I like the stones because after every walk I carry ten kilos of them in my jacket pockets back to the motorhome. Icke collects round, flat stones for writing on. These become walking stones that are placed somewhere with a saying or a nice message and are intended to put a smile on the face of the person who finds them - and perhaps also in the heart. I think the idea is good – apart from the dragging...