Rust and cow pats

Our house in the clouds

We have been gazing at the clouds from our little Asturian mountain house for a week now, bimbling about, dining with friends, going to the slightly chilly beach, repacking our cases and fixing stuff. 

Necoras - the crabs which Jo's dad fishes
and exports to Spain and we eat here 

My mangled Spanish continues to mystify and amuse our neighbours, while they’re not herding their cows up and down the mountain.

The space that holds up the car

Rust has eaten a fist-sized hole through a beam which supports a quarter of the car’s weight. I only discovered it yesterday. So priorities have changed: I spent today Waxoyling what’s left of the chassis while putting the organisation of packing cases on hold.

Cutting the wood for our sleeping
platform in the DIY store car park.

Our main objective when we reach the Balkan countries will be to find a cheap welder with time on his hands. Half of the adventure is seeing if the car makes it there without packing cases crashing through the floor.

We have found ourselves blowing up cowpats with bangers (video to come) and wondering aloud which animals can poo while walking and which ones cannot, and so have decided it’s best to move on. We leave the house this Monday 26^th.

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