Blog

Contrary to popular folklore this is not where I have been for the last six months. Well, not The Bulldog anyway. This is where, every Sunday, I go for a Full English (breakfast) and deal with any e-mails, etc. The Bulldog is in Playa del Inglis, on Gran Canaria, and is just about the only place in Playa that I frequent. My social life, such as it is, centres around the gym in the mornings and Melonares in the evenings. I have also met up for the occasional drink with a fellow motorhead who has a MGB in Norway and a Morgan (I've had to re-type that 3 times because it kept crashing my laptop!) in Canaria. Amazingly he has a very nice Norwegian partner, so he does have some taste. I am currently in Burgos, Spain for the night and tomorrow will be heading up to Bilbao to catch a ferry home. Originally, today would have been the 3rd day after...

My father (in MG Kin terms) has reprimanded me for the lack of updates on here. I have no otion but to plead 'guilty' and apologise to all readers. There is no real excuse as I have been spending my winter counting grains of sand on the beaches of Gran Canaria with only occasional attempts to secure a sponsor for another MG adventure this year (2019). Not only have I failed to update this site but I have equally failed in securing the sponsorship. There is one last opportunity and then if I am still unsuccessful I have decided to accept 'no' as a final response and retire from the world of adventure MG driving. Meanwhile, as I previously indicated, I have been relaxing here on Gran Canaria and avoiding another cold English winter. The climate has generally been warm with the highest daytime temperature having been only 16C on one specific day but the average being 20+C. The current short term...

I have been remiss in my reports. I left England on the 8th October taking Bertie the 'B' for a shake-down run of some 1800 miles. The plan was to travel through France down to Cadiz in Spain, from where we would catch the ferry to Las Palmas, Gran Canaria. I often spend the winter on the southern end of this island, where the climate is usually in the mid seventies during the coldest part of the winter and the high seventies for the rest of the time. Things started well, with the weather in England dry and the temperature in the mid teens. We drove down to Folkestone and boarded the Channel Tunnel train for a swift crossing to France and then drove south heading towards Tours. Normally I stop over at Le Mans but wanted a change from the routine and was pleasently surprised both with the town itself and the hotel I found. Tours is a university city...