Getting to know our campsite and our neighbours. It's mainly Brits and Germans, although we have a Belgian couple next to us. All motorhomes, not a tent in site and we are the only campervan. Our kids are the only kids. 

Our immediate neighbours, a relatively youthful couple in their early 80s called Alan and Paula, have taken a shine to Skye, and we're letting Alan feed her with sausage to continue her rehabilitation into the real world, lol. He's a retired (27 years ago) fireman, spending three months on/three months off here (since Brexit, gotta love Brexit - thanks 52%).

We headed up into Mojacar Pueblo for lunch, a tiny hilltop town, with narrow, steep streets even by Spanish standards. There's a lift to get you from the sort-of ring road up to the higher part of the old town, and the streets are mostly pedestrian, basically because you couldn't get a car down them if you tried. It's great.

We had lunch in a courtyard, served from a cafe on the street - nothing special but was fun, and we chatted to a British lady who had retired out here by said it's full of "boring retired Brits, all counting down their last 10 years of life, and all drunk, all the time!" - she was wondering if she'd done the right thing moving here.

I forgot that the shops would be closed for siesta, so I had to tramp back up the hill from the campsite at 5.30pm to buy a few essentials, including what turned out to be the most horrible, on-the-shelf-for-ages chocolate in history (Valor - not a good brand at the best of times). It's so bad, only Dylan will eat it. 

Back to base for a chicken curry, made with a home-made curry sauce I brought with us - was very pleased with the results. Then Faye and I sitting in the cold evening under the stars to end the day, with the kids and dog safely tucked up in bed.