Amsterdam > Weeze > Santander

Some things in life are just not fair. Like going to Spain in July to get some sun, for instance, and spending nine days dodging torrential downpours, shivering in shorts and wondering why you did not bring a coat with you.

The Portugeezer and I do not tend to do much research about our random travel destinations. In fact, the usual way we decide where to go and when generally goes like this:

"Look! [insert sheep transporting company/ budget airline name] is having a sale. Tickets for FIVE euros to [insert destination] if we book within the next four seconds!"

A few clicks later and we're usually booked on a cheap flight somewhere faster than you can say "Carbon Footprint" or "Deep Vein Thrombosis", usually departing from some random airport in Germany and returning to another random airport in Belgium.

This is how we happen to be in Santander, which turns out to be the cheapest way to get to Asturias. This lack of planning is also why we happen to be going to a place about which the most impressive thing is the fact that it's incredibly lush and green. Incredibly lush and green in Spain means that it rains. Almost constantly.

"Asturians are always ready for the rain," boasts the travel guide I've bought, as I sit in the nasty blue and yellow sardine-can that is Ryanair. I glance longingly at the burning sun and the freak 30 degree heat as it leaves itself firmly in Germany. Yes, that's right. Germany.

"Asturias is not a wine growing region," mocks the book. Panic! No wine? No wine means no grapes. No grapes mean no sun. More importantly, no wine means me not drinking any wine.

"Cider is the chosen drink here," rubs in the book, which I am now considering giving to the irritating child in front of me to rip up. Cider means apples. Apples like to grow in cold, wet climates. I grew up in one of those. I know the misery it causes, especially in summer.

So, when we arrive in Santander, which is in Cantabria and not Asturias, but that doesn't matter because the weather is the same in both places, it is not altogether surprising that it is raining.

Er, have you got anything smaller?
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We go to pick up our rental car and discover they've run out of normal-people sized cars and the only thing they have left for us is a massive, ugly, beige seven-seater Citroen Picasso. I guess the only people who own Citroen Picasso's are people with very big families or people without big families and certain small body parts. And, who the hell buys a beige car? It's seriously huge.

The back seats and floor are covered with crushed up crisps. The lady explains, "We are eh so ebusy, we did enot have etime to eclean it!"

"No problem," I say, neglecting to add that it's going to look a hell of a lot worse than that once we explode inside it.

I 'drive' a six year-old 50cc scooter with the incongruous name of "Alfie". I do not have the necessary skills to reverse park a 2 litre engine bus into a tiny space on a busy road. I also have a rather nervous disposition when it comes to reversing large vehicles after a rather embarrassing reversing 'incident' when I knocked over a very old and important historic monument in front of a pub full of drunken people. I've never quite gotten over it. Nope. That car has to be changed.

We whinge for half an hour and are subsequently offered a "Berlingo" which is basically a delivery van with seats in the back. It's also beige and even more ugly than the bus. In the end, we take the bus with the promise from the car rental company that we can change it tomorrow at the city centre branch and a promise from the Portugeezer that I will not have to do any reversing in it.

We arrive at our "pension", which randomly and rather coincidently happens to be two steps away from the car rental company's other office. The old woman running the pension is wearing a shapeless flowered dress that all Spanish old ladies wear. She shows us our room, which has two beds in it and we ask if she has a room with just one bed. She says, "No. If you don't want this room, you can leave now, but you have to pay me anyway, so I don't care." Nice. Verrrrry nice.

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