When Life Gives You Mud……

You make a mud pie.

 

Thursday, October 25th- Punta Paloma, Spain—– ‘The Pig Field’:

Its almost like we we stepped inside a Vegas Casino just momentarily— with the deafening noise of slot machines ringing in our ears. 

That’s right, we hit the ‘wild camping’ jackpot on this one.

'The Pig Field.'Diva was set up on a massive meadow (aka- whats known as the ‘Pig Field’ round these parts) along the coast of Southern Spain.  Fluffy sand bluffs to our right, a cozy view of the ocean in front with a generous dash of kites flying above us.  It truly was a melting pot of travelers…. from kipped out RV’s to 4 door sedans and a few gypsies in-between, it was a mishmash of the ‘comings and goings’ of journeys.  (& of course, some just staying) An interesting community, to say the least.  But it was free…. which made it all the more dazzling.

And perhaps we were a bit naïve regarding the little warning we received from a fellow Pig Fielder’ as to what happens when there is rain…. and of course, never mind the ground being a ‘clay-like-substance’…..we were having a hot streak, and nothing was going to stop this lucky run.And with the rains, so came 'the germans.' (Felix)

…..and then, the skies decided to open up (or maybe more like swallowed us up) on our 3rd day there and brought upon us rains that deserved to have animals counted 2×2.  Mr. Noah could have easily placed his Ark in the lake that now encapsulated the only way in & out.  

So we did what anyone would do in a serious situation such as this. 

We had a party in our van.

Now, quite honestly- we have never really had more then the 2 of us in Diva, and even that’s a push.  So to squeeze 2 Germans- a Brit and 1 (very loud) American…. well, it’s a darn right clown car.  That night as we toasted to our new found right as a citizen of the ‘Pig Fields’- we didn’t even seem to notice the rain chucking it down outside (or the Citizens of 'Pig Field.' Our German Friends- Felix and Lilianimals starting to line up in parallel formation outside the van).  This land was OURS— and we were now a part of ‘the staying.’ 

We even made ‘mud pie’ our national dish.

The next day when the skies cleared and the reality hit that perhaps we weren’t cut for a life of mud— it wasn’t just the fine people of our ‘party van’ that came together to bail our way out, but all the great citizens of our new soggy land.  We bailed bucket after bucket out of that ‘Ark Lake’— and even though we all spoke different languages, andOne of the 'citizens' bailing out in his little 'bitties.' may have had a few different ideas on the ‘best way’ to go about it and how little clothing the German man needed to wear whilst they bent-over-and-bailed…. we prevailed.

Around 3:32 on Saturday, October 27th we bid our fellow Pig Fielders ‘Adieu’….  crossed our fingers and muddy toes—and revved it.

Around 3:33 (and a touch of an anxiety attack) we made it to the other side.

Sometimes the most extraordinary experiences happen when you forget about your next destination and just focus on getting ‘stuck into’ the moment.

You can always press on tomorrow. 

Well, in our case- tomorrow + a day.

 

I want to dedicate this blog to my ‘Mud King.’ Oh how I love getting ‘stuck in’ with you……PB020029

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