Comment: It's hotting up for the Queen of the Road

Friday 13 July 2018

Queen of the Road - travel blogger and eight-year old Newfoundland, Indie Luce - has been off the leash in the Mediterranean with her humans for some months now, but how is she coping in the heatwave under that thick coat?

As Indie's paw heals, the Spanish sun is hot on her tail (and just about everywhere else), but this Newfi has perfected the art of staying cool and looking cool whilst doing it...

"When I last wrote, I mentioned my poorly paw and the heat of Seville, after the saga of the dinged van and my medical examination we moved onto the coast. We drove through the hills to Málaga but after seeing the sprawl from the mountains coming in we made a definitive decision that has still held good.

"No big cities, no hours trying to find a parking space (which has added difficulties when you have a roof box). The plan, which of course is no plan, unfolded to hit the motorway for a few hours and then take the coast road.

"I was really feeling sorry for myself, bad paw, not eating due to the heat and in that bleeding van again. The temperatures dropped to about 28 degrees from 32, so with the windows open and air conditioning on became moderately bearable. A swim was needed. In actual fact, my first Mediterranean swim.

"We found a little town called Castillo de Baños and had a lunch break - I sprawled out and panted loudly - I know I mentioned dogs weren’t treated well in Spain but all of the restaurant and bar owners were quick to bring bowls of cold water for me to splash my muzzle in. After lunch, I broke the police barriers and again snuck into the sea, it was not a fabulous beach with golden sand, it did the trick, swim in Med box ticked.

Pictured: Indie's scrapbook from her antics in Spain with one of her humans, Sharon Fitzpatrick.

"At Castillo de Baños we found a campsite that was bang on the beach. With a private beach for campers only. I have to pay to stay in campsite as well as the humans, so I had paid, now I was going to play. The waves were breaking on the beach and the spray was hitting the van which was parked with a very special sea view. It was a great place to spend the night. 

"I’m told I’m a fussy mare, that I don’t eat what is put down in front of me and that I like human nosh. I’ve been rumbled, I make out I’m not hungry, give dad the sad dog eyes and he buys me minced beef or steak. Caught me out now and he’s now playing hard-ball, dog food with a sprinkle of muesli.

"He thinks I see the muesli as a confusion, but I’m not daft. In fairness to me, this heat does not make you want to eat, the pills (he hides them in rolled up ham and thinks I don’t notice) and the paw being a bit of an appetite suppressant. I try to eat what is there but know he will give in and serve up cooked food, tuna, beef or ham... I feel sorry for winding him up, really. 

"We had a few days at Castillo then headed further up the road to catch up with a mate of dad’s in Altea Marina, we had been promised a few nights on a 78m luxury boat, own room chef etc. We got there later the following day after a long drive through the hot hills of Granada and arrived at Altea Marina. A few beers later and we were marching down the quayside to the boat, lovely boat, daft narrow way to get on to it, NO WAY was I going to get on that gangplank, I’m a water dog yes, but not a very brave one.

"The discussion was about lifting, craning, putting sausages on after another in a trail.... NO WAY. Sorry dad. Plan B was invoked, we rented an apartment for the three nights we had planned to stay. Air conditioned luxury, without the rolling around on the mooring.

Pictured: Indie could not be coaxed onto the gangplank of the boat for love nor sausages.

"We had a few nights out with the crew and friends, one night was a trip around the various towns that were close, Javea, Denia, etc were all very close, dad had planned to meet up with a skiing mate of his in Denia for dinner, I was allowed in the restaurant that night. We all were surprised how good the food was and the price paid. We like Denia.

"After the stay at Altea and the goodbyes to the crew the previous night, we moved to Denia, to a campsite that again had direct access to the beach. Of course not being allowed to swim in the sea there was a major problem; duly ignored, went for two or three dips a day in between the lifeguards patrols.

"Dad was excited as a message had come through on snoutbook.com saying he had an old rugby mate that lived in Javea, they corresponded and arranged to meet up and watch the rugby (England won) Dad’s mate Cookie (he didn’t look like a biscuit) had been there for 18 years and was looking very well on it. They meet up a few times over the next few days taking about old times and we had a good look at Javea, it maybe my new home! We liked it.

"After six days in the area it was time to move on as the temperature was nudging 32, but alarmingly in the next two days due to rise to a scorching Newfi frazzling 39. That is not safe for a Newfi with a black double thick fur coat. There was many try’s in getting my coat clipped but failed because every dog on the Costa Blanca was being clipped, so the sensible thing was to move onto cooler climes.

"Our last night in Denia I met Freddy. Yes he’s a boy, good looking and young. Freddy is a fox red  Labrador and likes jumping into pools. We were invited to Freddie’s villa by his dad, a mate of my dad, we had a BBQ and lots to drink. We walked 40 minutes there and 40 minutes back, this cemented our decision we had to move on it was sweltering both ways (even at midnight).

Pictured: Could Denia spell puppy love for Indie and handsome stranger on the scene, red fox Labrador, Freddie?

"In all our busy moving around I forgot to say - two days before we drove from Denia to Alicanti to pick up a returning Sharon. It was a late flight so we all stayed in a hotel that night I went ballistic trying to get through the gap in the seats to see her. The news was originally very optimistic on her aunt, which sadly changed for the very worst a day after she got back. We all were very sad.

"All of us back together and now on our drive up north, believe it or not to find colder weather! We had decided not to do the drive in one go, but to stop at a place that we might just stumble on, out of the blue so to speak. We had developed a cunning plan - if we liked a place, stay; if we didn’t, move on!

"We had a night in another great campsite south of Barcelona, it was hot, hot, hot even with the newly purchased (plane propeller) fan. I was suffering in the heat at night and in the day. We all were getting concerned as we had heard sad stories of dogs with heat exhaustion.

"To put this trip in context, in nine weeks we have driven around the whole coast of western France, north and south Spain, Portugal and back up the Med coast, so a fat 4500 miles in a black baking tin. The noticeable thing is the difference in prices, Portugal definitely the cheaper country.  When I asked dad about where are we going to settle, it seems a simple choice. Sagres/Lagos or Javea/Denia, in truth I’m cool, if I’m cooler!  Has to be near a legal doggy beach or river.

"We drove on for about four hours to Andorra, 24 degrees and sunny. We booked a hotel, which it was said was the best value ever and spent a few days walking around the massive shopping streets. The second day I stayed in my air conditioned room for the hottest parts of those days. My dad had another rugby mate there and they duly visited him and his wife at their restaurant. It was nice to see Jimmy Jordan, known to many, who had his new life in Andorra. 

"The next day we set off over the mountains to French France. Stopped at the top of a col for a break and a swim in a minus 1 degree mountain cascade. The temperature was 17 at the top, now that’s a mighty dramatic swing from 34 degrees. The fresh mountain water was refreshing, although a shock to the system. It was about this time the fear of heat stroke waned, I was back to being the bad-ass no fear of water Newfi.

Pictured: The dog days are definitely not over for Indie, who found some refreshing ways to keep cool in France.

"The next few days we drove through some fabulous countryside in Cathar country, dad had a bucket list hit that had to be ticked, he had worked with an illustrator in the late 70’s on a book Holy Blood Holy Grail. It was the story of Rennes les Chateau and the enigmatic priest finding unimaginable treasure (the Da Vinci code basic storyline). We visited the famous hilltop town and it was fascinating, we stayed at famous towns, saw famous castles and got some famous swims at the spa town, Rennes les Bains. 

"We then moved onto the Haute Languedoc region were again we stumbled upon a rural riverside camp, heaven for freshwater Newfi swims, me and Sharon were in an ideal place close to nature and yet no mossies! Never seen so many dragonflies. It had a beach and a deep bottom so no cheating with paws on the ground when swimming around. I can honestly say I did not want to get out of the river. It was ‘Swallows and Amazons’ stuff. After a few days of find river, stop and repeat, I am happy to report a fantastic stop in the Tarn Gorge, what a place four woofs on woofadvisor.

Pictured: Indie posing for pics with her humans, Alan Luce and Sharon Fitzpatrick as they made their way from the Spanish coast back to France.

"Stay by the river, swim in said river, repeat three times a day - Newfoundland nirvana. We found the awesome British designed Millau viaduct on the way, do we get it back when we leave Europe?"