The walkway along the "main" road out of the village, taken by Faye on her early morning run.

The hen party girls were loud as you like till 11pm, then in true Spanish "polite" style, we didn't hear a peep out of them again. That said, as is always the case in Spanish towns of any size (and despite this being mountain country, we are still on the edge of a town), the place can hardly be described as quiet: With the teenagers on mopeds on the steep hill, the countless barking farm dogs, and the large group of children in the party who have just turned up today to stay in one of the glamping teepees on the site, it definitely has some "life" to it.

We both went for runs this morning, through the village and out the other side, on a small road following a gurgling brook down past old water mills and modern small-scale farms, with olives, other crops, goats and chickens.

Goats on the valley side, taken on my early morning run as the sun rose over the hills.

After our morning's work and our usual bits and pieces lunch, Faye and I took it in turns to take the kids to the swimming pool (municipal, attached to the campsite, €1 admission), before I served a rather crucified supper of one pot veg & tomato pasta and broccoli. Can't get 'em all right!

Ah yes, the volume. Dylan and Maya played on the site's trampoline with the Spanish kids till 11pm when we called them back to bed, the Spanish kids cheerfully playing till 12.30am, when their parents were happy to cajole them loudly into bed. Their noise, combined with a dustcart collecting the bins and beeping loudly around midnight, and what sounded like a whole load of articulated lorries backing into the camping in the early hours, all made for a pretty restless start to our night's sleep...