Page 29 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘Keep your hair on, Dad. I’m coming,’ Jake replied, and with a sigh, went to open the door.
At the service area in Spain, Atticus had woken early to the sound of engines roaring. The smell of diesel was strong, and for a moment, he wondered where he was. But Ness reminded him by moving to the window and twitching back the curtain with her nose. She began to bark as the trucks beside Winnie roared into life and set off on their onward journey.
‘It’s time we were up,’ Atticus said and rubbed his eyes. He gave Ness a pat as she shot past him, tail wagging and tongue lolling, before sitting by the camper’s door. ‘Aye, hang on a mo. Let me get my trousers on…’
In the café where he had dined the previous evening, Atticus chose a dish that looked like an omelette, labelled ‘Tortilla Española’. With two cups of strong coffee and a buttered baguette, the breakfast was the perfect start to his day. Afterward, he purchased a crusty loaf, a slab of pale-yellow cheese, a jar of local honey, and four litres of water, storing the items carefully in Winnie.
‘That’ll see us through the day,’ he told Ness as they set off and Winnie hit the road again.
The sky was dark and cloudy, and with busy motorways ahead, Atticus hoped that it wouldn’t rain. Jake had set the satnav to circumnavigate the vast city of Madrid, and already, with huge trucks careering past, vibrations shook Winnie’s bodywork and Atticus felt hesitant about the drive. He wasn’t confident the old camper’s wipers would cope if there was a deluge.
Jake had explained that toll roads carried less traffic, as motorists paid for the benefit of their use. As the first toll booth came into sight, Atticus slowed down and nervously approached the barrier.
His grandson had installed a clever device called a Bipandgo on Winnie’s windscreen, which was electronically recognised at a toll booth, allowing the driver to sail through without stopping to pay.
‘Oh, please open,’ Atticus prayed, hoping that Jake had installed it correctly. Wide-eyed with Ness, they crept into the lane. In his right-hand-drive vehicle, it would be a nightmare to get out and run around the vehicle to pay as a queue built up behind them.
But, to Jake’s credit, the barrier smoothly lifted, and they drove through.
‘Yes! That gadget is worth every penny.’ Atticus gave an ecstatic fist pump, and Ness woofed. ‘It charges your credit card at the end of each month,’ he explained to his excited dog. ‘Genius, eh? The modern gizmos that are available today,’ he added, shaking his head.
As they headed south again, the satnav indicated thatthey would arrive at their destination by mid-afternoon. But with several stops planned for Ness and a bite to eat, Atticus knew it would be much later. Leaving the outskirts of Madrid far behind, the muddy sky cleared as the sun came out. He gazed out at agricultural fields and the occasional small town in the distance, pleased that he’d chosen this route. Jake had suggested a more extended drive, sightseeing through France over several days before crossing the border into Spain, south of Perpignan. But Arthur had advised that a shorter journey with Winnie might, on this occasion, be sensible. Despite the horrible ferry crossing, Atticus had to agree.
Miles of olive groves and vineyards whizzed by, and as they passed through the region of Castilla-La Mancha, Atticus noted a tourist information sign for the Castle of Belmonte.
‘There’s a castle perched on every hilltop,’ he muttered to Ness.
Whenever Atticus saw a structure of the Osborne Bull, he stopped and took a photograph. The massive bull amused him, and he chuckled as he wondered if the Lake District Tourist Board might do something similar with Herdwick sheep in Cumbria.
On the edge of the town of Consuegra, he picnicked on bread and cheese with Ness, and while reading through the information in his folder, he learnt that the windmills scattered all over the area were immortalised in Miguel de Cervantes’Don Quixote, a novel he’d read at school.
‘Fancy that,’ Atticus mused as he studied the massivesails.
Passing through the province of Albacete, Atticus saw that the landscape had become more rugged, leaving the lush, fertile plains behind him. A mountainous terrain lay in the distance. But sometime later, when signs for Alicante began to appear, a glimpse of the Mediterranean came into view. Atticus gazed as a golden glow lit up the sky, and the sun started to dip towards the horizon. Ness stirred from her slumber and, as though sensing the journey had reached its final leg, she began to look out of the window.
‘Not too far now,’ Atticus said and followed the satnav’s directions to bypass Alicante.
The vast city sprawled out before him, and Atticus hoped he wouldn’t get lost. But end-of-day traffic was manic, with cars, motorcycles, and buses weaving in and out of lanes. A background of honking horns seemed to be the Spanish drivers’ way of communicating and fearing that some of the noise was directed at him, Atticus tried hard to stay on the right road. Soon, though, he realised he was lost as the satnav screen changed crazily to update the route.
On the dashboard, Gonzalo the Gnome’s head nodded to one side.
‘Aye, you’re right. I’ll head to the coast,’ Atticus told Gonzalo. ‘If we keep to the sea on our left, we can’t go wrong.’
Sure enough, with the Castle of Santa Bárbara perched high on Alicante’s hilltop now behind them, the satnav corrected itself, and with traffic easing, Atticus drove Winnie south. ‘Thirty-eight kilometres!’ Atticus happily announced, before quickly converting the distance. ‘Only twenty-three miles to go.’
The coastal road became single-lane traffic, meandering along an even plane. In a convoy, with a slow but steady speed, Atticus stared at the landscape that would soon become familiar.
‘Would you just look at that…’ he said in awe to Ness.
Large salt flats lay on either side of the road next to vast stacks of pure-white salt. Further on, the flats became lakes, and as the daylight softened, it cast a pink and silver hue on the water. Flocks of flamingos waded through the shallows, and with long stick-like legs, they moved with effortless grace, vibrant pink feathers catching the light. Each step of their delicate feet created ripples and Atticus was mesmerised.
Seeing a layby ahead, he slowed Winnie into a space. With Ness on her lead, they crossed the road and walked along a narrow boardwalk parallel to a lake.
‘This is so beautiful,’ Atticus whispered, beginning to take photos as reeds rustled in the warm evening breeze and water gently lapped against the shore. Herons took flight against the fading light, their giant wings a hypnotic beat as they soared above, and waterfowl mingled with the flamingos, their silhouettes reflected like a mirage.
It was an awe-inspiring sight, giving Atticus time to pause, and be thankful to Jake and Arthur for giving him the courage to come on this journey. With a happy sigh, he returned to Winnie, and they set off again.
Fifteen minutes later, the satnav announced that they had reached their destination.
