Calpe, Spain

Spanish Steps and fireworks. Day 11 in search of sunshine

The main attraction for staying in Calpe, it has to be said, was the German bakery. It isn’t just any old German bakery, this one is run by real Germans who make authentic breads and cakes. Well, Germany does know a thing or three about delicious cakes. And Kasebrochen, a soft bread roll with baked-on cheese, is the first thing I buy whenever we visit. But the gods were either being kind and helping with the diet or having a laugh. The bakery was closed for the duration of our stay as the family had returned home for the holidays. Well, that’s Germany back on the travel list.

Calpe is a seaside resort, tower blocks of accommodation rise up into the skyline from every piece of land. At the height of the season, there must be thousands of people here. Out of season, the shops and seafront cafes are still open as many people enjoy the winter sunshine. The beaches are blue flag standard, which means no dogs are allowed on them. Milo doesn’t understand why he can’t run on the beach like he does at home.

The novelty of being able to sit out in the warm sunshine on New Year's Eve and enjoy lunch as the sea gently laps on the beach has to be endured. I’m sure food tastes so much better under these conditions. The coastline is dominated by a large rock, it’s a great landmark sitting at 600 metres high. You can climb to the top, but I’ll leave that for another day.

They have excavated a Roman village here, and Calpe is also home to the Salines de Saladar, the blue salt lake. Pink flamingoes live there freely, having become wise to all the humans flocking to see them they now live on the far side of the lake, well out of the range of a phone camera.

Weaving in and out of small roads, colourful murals and bright flowers we climb higher. The church bells ring out andwe step inside what was once an old fort. It’s a bright and airy modern-style church, very feminine, complete with a statue of Mary high above the altar.

Returning to our meander we finally come across the Spanish Steps. A narrow stone street that rises up to the next level of the town. The front of each cobbled step has been painted yellow and red in the colours of the Spanish flag. Unlike the majestic sweep of the wide Spanish Steps in Rome, these are more cosy, flanked on both sides by colourful doors,decorated with bright flowers. I can hear the occupants of one home making dinner, the aroma of paella fills the air. It feels like a step back in history, if I listen through the veil of time I can hear the residents standing on the steps discussing the issues of the neighbourhood, tending to plants and in the background a strumming guitar.

The air is warm in this quiet part of the town. Stations of the Cross mark the winding path up to a white church at the top of the hill. The church is closed, but the sun shines as we sit and absorb the peace. It will be the perfect viewing point for any fireworks celebrations tonight. As soon as it becomes dark random fireworks burst into the sky reaching their crescendo as the clock strikes midnight. Maybe we should have walked back up to the church again to watch the sky changing, but my duvet is warm and fleecy. As the new year starts my eyes close and deep sleep arrives. Happy New Year everyone.

Tessie the motorhome tips:

Search for sites- it’s a tourist car park on a large chunk of dry, dusty, potholed land. Motorhomes definitely can’t park there, but if you drive through towards the back you will see another area, this one is a free site for motorhomes. Absolutely no facilities available. The Mercondra supermarket is further down the road, however the car park is underground with height restrictions. Glad we got the shopping on board before we arrived.

Message from Milo the bichon: some shops let me in and the restaurants along the beachfront let me in too. Just sad I wasn’t allowed on the blue flag beach, though I know other dogs do go on because they leave paw prints and a mess. The dog poo fairy doesn’t exist in Spain.