2018-09-15 at Camping Montagut

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at Camping Montagut

It is a cloudy morning at Camping Montagut and definitely cooler, about 23°C. We use the time well to sleep in late and use the shower facilities which are very good. We sit outside in the warm morning and catch up on emails and our journals. The Spanish family behind us only seem to talk to each other by shouting. Two of the boys (about 8 or 9) come racing down the hill at top speed with the mother (as this is whom I presume it is) shouting after them on the top note! Later they go out and all is quiet. We watch as various campers arrive and park up, including two large ones that arrive separately and park up opposite where we were yesterday. One has a very large black dog and the other has three large dogs, none on leads so of course, dogs being dogs, they race up and down barking and barking. We are very pleased we moved.

Later Mr C. explores possible routes and sites around northern Spain. The Priorat wine area is nearby but it is hard to find information, we may need to just go and explore. We also take the opportunity to run a load of laundry through the washer and the dryer which only costs €3 for each machine (it is often around €8).

A very noisy Spanish group arrive at lunch time, three couples with four small children, three boys and a baby girl. One of the small boys is stood on the front seat with his head through the open sun roof as they sway and rock and roll up the gravel path, which probably says it all! They park on the two pitches just below us and all three vehicles disgorge their passengers with much yelling and shouting. The three men put up a very large tent on two more pitches opposite the cars with much shouting and cursing, the women with cigarettes in one hand, get out the bedding, ground sheets and chairs and keep an eye on the boys who run around their four pitches (two together for the tent and two tables and chairs, two more opposite for their three vehicles.

Finally, after about an hour and a lot of shouting, the tent is up, the ground sheet is in and the beds pumped up. Next comes a meal for ten people which the women make, also with much shouting and yelling and with many cans of beer. We have a stage side view as the pitch we are on is the terrace of pitches above them, so they are in front of and below us. The afternoon gets noisier and noisier. as we watch the antics of our noisy neighbours, very entertaining. Later, one of the young men walks up the hill to us and asks politely, in very heavily accented Spanish, if he can heat his stove top coffee percolator on our gas cooker. It takes a while for Mr C. to grasp his meaning (he spoke no English) but then they talked while they waited for the coffee to boil.

He is here with his cousin and families from about two hours away. He returns down the hill and we watch our live soap opera unfold its drama before us. The adults sit round a large table dinking and smoking and are lively and loud. The baby sits in her buggy and is fed, the boys ride their scooter bikes around the pitches and we think of all of our family when we go away together, they are not troublesome just very, very noisy.

Then, just as suddenly, one of the adults shouts something in Spanish and all the adults get up and start clearing the table and putting everything away. We are intrigued, not least as we have sound but no words to know what is going on. At first, we think they are going out and just tidying away, but then the air beds and bedding come out of the tents. Then we decide they are moving pitches (after all we did the same yesterday). Everything is getting stuffed in the cars, airbeds not deflated and all packed very roughly. The young man who came up with coffee walks up the hill to us and tells Mr C. they are leaving… he tells us that someone has complained about them being too noisy and they have been told to leave.

We are shocked… they are very noisy, but so are the 15 Italians down by the pool and the shouting family behind us up the hill. We don’t know what to say, except to assure him it wasn’t us who complained, and we have enjoyed watching them during the afternoon. He is called Alex, shakes us by the hand warmly and wishes us, in heavily-accented English, ‘Happy Holiday’.

It is very, very quiet when they are gone, like it is at home when the grandchildren leave. We are somewhat dismayed by their abrupt departure and wonder if there is more to this than we know about. On reflection, the woman from Reception has marched around the site most of the afternoon. It is late afternoon by now and we open wine, it is very quiet. The two cars with the noisy family from the cabin behind us return and even they are quiet. We think something must have been said to them too.

Later, we walk around the site, it is Saturday evening so quite a few people here and there is a very subdued feeling. We think the Reception lady has been on the rampage… which is just how it should be. Even the four large dogs (on the pitches opposite our first choice) are quiet. We sit out as the evening darkens until it is too dark to see.

Our trek through France and Northern Spain

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Summary of motorhome journey through France and Northern Spain