Day five into our road trip. Time calls for a blog. Where are we, I'm not too sure at this point, somewhere on the west coast of Spain approaching the portugese border. Sipping on a coronita (Spanish corona), listening to Jack Johnston and looking out onto vineyards with nothing but ocean behind them. Am I drunk? Perhaps. But the more important question is are we content???

To answer this I'll take you back four days ago to a small town on the Mediterranean coast just outside Barcelona. It is here we met Consuela, a rickety Toyota wicked van with 210000km behind her.

It's a small world when the man at the depot went to the same high school as Ant and his mum taught at Kilbreda (Mrs Webster Alice? Abi?).

Luck was not on our side when the supply store we were directed to for gas cylinders/linen ect had its "one random day of the year" closure. So with 40 degree heat to kick us off we decided to carry out our plan of driving across the country as quickly as possible.

We made it about ten minutes with total confusion as to why our car was going so slow when we realised the meter reads miles not km and we were driving way over the speed limit. Ops!

Eventually we made it half way across the country before pulling into a roadside servo for our first night "free camping". Starting the tradition of Family Guy and a coronita before bed.

Day two finally bought us to the Atlantic and set us up with a portable pantry equipped to cook meals our mothers would be proud of. Day three we started the tradition of sleeping in past 11am. Day four bought us a cold snap in weather (only 18 compared to 40 two days ago) as we made our way to Santiago de Compostela, an old city famous for its Cathedral at the end of the famous pilgrimage trail.

That leaves us with day 5. The day of our first shower (baby wipes can only do you do long, sorry mum). As we practice basic portugese phrases in preparation for driving through the border tomorrow we are well slept, well fed, clean, fully equipped campers, in company of crazy drivers, Ant's vastly growing beard and a good supply of cold beers for the abundance of beach rest stops.
Content doesn't begin to describe how we feel.