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Friday, 20 February 2015

Medieval Morella and the journey home


It is time to start the journey home. Our Autumn trip nearly behind us but we have such good memories of Switzerland, Italy and Spain, not to be forgotten, also our journey through southern France which is of course the country that we will return home to in a few days. Having had breakfast with friends and said our goodbyes we make a late start on the road.
Leaving the coast behind us at Benicarlo we head inland. The N232 is an old road zig zagging up the steep hillsides, lovely views, across the now changing surroundings.
The hill top town of Morella comes into view, one of the most attractive towns in the Province of Castellon. A medieval fortress town rising out of the plain, with commanding views all around, recovered from the Moors in the thirteenth century. 


With the short days of winter, Morella will be our night stop. Earlier travels had brought us this way, only stopping for a distant photograph that time. On this occasion, we visit the town and watch the sun set over it.


In the morning, fog shrouds the town, but as the sun rises higher it is diminished.


A fictional feel as the battlements appear, an El Sid moment!


Further north now and we leave the sun behind us and enter the gloom. A murmuration of Starlings head into their roost, as we should soon.


Across the border into France. Tarnos seems a good place for a lunch stop. I take a wind blown walk out on the dyke, in anticipation of spotting the Lesser Crested Turn, it has been resident for some time. 
Allas it is not to be. 


The Turnstones look smart for the camera.


How good is that! My first good photo's of Purple Sandpipers. Calidris maritima, the latin name, how fitting in this environment.


Purple Sandpipper (Calidris maritima).


Now that is showing off! the Turnstone nudges the Purple Sandpiper out of camera shot.
What a poseur! 


Having spent so long photographing the waders, it has become to late to continue the journey.
We head down to Tarnos-Plage for the night.
We arrive at the beach, just in time to see the last ray's of the sun go down, behind the ferocious sea.


We both stand windswept, as the darkness creeps over us and the beach, our thoughts with the seamen out there, as we turn and head back to the cosy warmth of the camping car. 
Glad to be on dry land!

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