43:06.29N 09:12.835W

La Caruna to Muxia. 15^th September 2014

The last night in La Caruna was intended to be a simple affair and so we decided on Tapas ashore. Norma had fired up the washing machine in the afternoon leaving the boat looking and smelling like a Chinese laundry, no room to eat aboard so of into town for us. The Tapas bar was a mixture of traditional tapas but the portions were huge. It was excellent and we gorged like gods on Olympus and all for 20 Euros a head including beer and a couple of bottles of wine. A very hearty goodbye to La Caruna.

We planned to leave at 0830 but a downpour delayed us for 30 minutes as we sat below and had just one more cup of coffee (any damn fool can get wet). The 44 mile trip down the coast was pretty uneventful with the wind dead on the nose all of the way so the opportunities for sailing and actually getting anywhere were limited. Norma did manage to produce her first painting of the trip (see pics below) and I spliced some shackles to keep myself busy. Over the last two hours it gusted up to 7’s at times from the SE which was a bit lumpy. The weather reports are for gale 8’s over the next few days so we changed plans and went into a new marina on the opposite shore from Camaranis which promised more shelter.

            It was one of those approaches where you creep around the harbour wall watching the depth sounder like a hawk as none of the pilot books mentioned the place and we only new that it existed because a passing sailor recommended it in La Caruna. What opened up in front of us were lots of brand new and very empty pontoons with what looked like a wooden hut for an office. Oh well, in we went.

No sign of any life at the Capitinaire or any answer on the VHF but a telephone number was taped to the window. Andy called him up and 10 minutes later a very tired looking young man came down and did the necessary formalities. He explained that it was the last night of a three day town festival and by the look of him he hadn’t missed a minute of it. He opened up a little bar (another wooden hut) next to his office and we sat down for one of the coldest beers I have ever had. Pretty soon we were thoroughly jollivated and then we noticed a Ukulele hanging on the wall of the bar. The barman was learning to play so 10 minutes later Norma was strumming a tune of sorts (jingle bells, it’s the only tune she has learnt so far) and we were trying to get the barman/Capitinaire to join in. Andy finally managed an excellent rendition of a ‘horse with no name’ before we headed into town.

            As this was Sarah and Andy’s 15^th wedding anniversary I was feeling a little guilty re the venue. Muxia turned out to be a rather bland little village but what made it worse was that the few locals that were walking about all looked very tired at the tail end of its festival weekend. The market stalls were closing down as we walked along the front and most of the restaurants were shut. We did however spot three tables in the middle of a side street and while investigating further we were accosted by a very enthusiastic Australian girl with an American accent (go figure) and her Spanish boyfriend. The couple were on a walking pilgrimage and Muxia was the last stop of a 500 Kilometre odyssey. They waxed lyrical about the food at this restaurant/someone’s front room so we pulled up some chairs and joined them. What a meal! The lamb stew was like a Kleftico from Cyprus and the seafood was piled up high on the plates. The owners spoke not a word of English but enjoyed waving their arms around and so did we, therefore we managed to communicate enough to get by. After the meal we went down to the sea front to see the little fair we had noticed earlier and thought that would be it for the night.

            Now remember I mentioned a small village with a sleepy population, at least 500 of them were in the square looking at a big stage. Next thing the curtains came up and a 10 piece Latina/salsa band sprang into life. Dancing girls flashing lights, smoke and a stage set that would not have looked out of place at Glastonbury, all in this little fishing village. This went on for an about an hour and then the curtain came down. 5 minutes later, the curtain went up on another equally large stage set at 90 degrees to the first. Another similar 10 piece Latino band struck up and carried on at a frenetic pace through to 3 am in the morning we were dancing in the streets with the locals until the early hours and finally made our way back to the empty marina again eating street food along the way. Sometimes great nights out have the most inauspicious beginnings, and this was definitely one of those!

The weather report is for force 8’s for the next three days and as I write this on Tuesday afternoon the wind is a steady 7 gusting to lots more than that so we are going nowhere for a day or so.     

PS Steve still hasn’t caught any fish, three lines out this morning!

“Give a Steve a fish and he will feed the crew for a day, Give him £300 pounds worth of state of the art fishing gear and we will probably starve to death”

And now the pictures:

Norma’s first painting                         Spectra looking lonely

The harbour office bar and shower    yes that is a painters table

After the meal                                       Band number 1

 Band number 2                                      Muxia gets shown our moves

   Tripping the light fantastic!!!