Following the N340 feels a bit like stepping back in time only this time, we know exactly what we’re in for… or at least we thought we did.
It’s been eight years since we last drove this route into Spain, and honestly, not much has changed. If anything, the roads seem determined to keep you on your toes bumpy, potholed, and full of surprises. And the driving? Let’s just say you quickly learn to stay alert. Indicators appear optional, braking even more so. You definitely need your wits about you out here.
And then there’s the heat. It doesn’t ease you in it just hits. One minute you’re fine, the next you’re melting and wondering why you packed anything with sleeves. Add in the one-hour time difference between Portugal and Spain, and somehow that tiny shift throws everything off more than expected. Meals, sleep, even knowing what day it is, it all feels slightly out of sync.
Gibraltar wasn’t part of the original plan, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Running dangerously low on proper Yorkshire tea and thoroughly fed up with the “English tea” options from Lidl and Aldi we made an unplanned dash across for a Morrisons and M&S fix. Priorities. In hindsight, we should’ve taken the van across too the fuel prices alone would’ve made it worthwhile at €1.33!
But then again we had enough trouble getting ourselves into Gibraltar let alone the van.
We paid to have our biometrics done last year, so it was hard to understand why we kept having to repeat the same process again and again, it’s just a bonkers situation, going across the border fingerprints and face scan. Coming out exactly the same all over again. It wasn’t a huge delay, just confusing, as if none of the previous checks really counted.
In the end, it became one of those odd travel moments you can’t quite explain frustrating at the time, but slightly amusing once you’re through.
From there, we headed to Benalmádena, a place packed with memories. We used to holiday here with the boys and even lived here for a short time, so it felt special to return. Familiar spots, a few changes, but that same comforting feeling of nostalgia.
One day, we hopped on the train to Fuengirola for a wander along the seafront. It started off perfectly sunshine, sea views, a gentle stroll until it didn’t. A sudden moment of awareness, John telling me to stop, and then the realisation that someone had managed to get into my bag. Thankfully, they only took a carrier bag, but it was enough to shake the mood and leave me feeling uneasy for the rest of the day.
As we continued along the coast, the landscape began to change. The lush tones faded into something much drier, dustierraw and exposed. The nights brought a different kind of energy too, with locals who seem to come alive just as we’re thinking about sleep. Quiet evenings? Not quite.
Our next stop was Castell de Ferro, where we stayed for two nights. A slower pace, a chance to reset.
But leaving Castell de Ferro felt like crossing into a completely different world. The blue skies disappeared, replaced by strong winds and rain. The scenery shifted dramatically too greenery gave way to vast stretches of poly tunnels, especially as we approached Almería. Roads carved into rock faces, dry riverbeds, and even people living in caves it was stark, fascinating, and a little sobering all at once.
Then came Cabo de Gata. And just like that, it felt as though we’d driven straight into the Wild West. The landscape turned rugged and cinematic, with tumbleweed (yes, actual tumbleweed) rolling across the road as if on cue. It was eerie, beautiful, and completely unforgettable.
Over the next week, we made several more stops, each with its own story, its own flavour of Spain.
And then—Benidorm.
But that’s a whole chapter in itself…
Parroquia San Juan Bautista.
Back in Spain and it’s just a dusty carpark for tonight in La Palma del Condado
Catholic church in La Palma del Condado, Spain. Amazing church with steeped in history in this beautiful small town.
Lunch in Jerez de la Frontera
Jerez de la Frontera Cathedral is a Catholic church located in Jerez de la Frontera, Andalusia, southern Spain. It is the seat of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Asidonia-Jerez
The monument to Miguel Primo de Rivera is an example of public art in Jerez de la Frontera (Andalusia, Spain). It consists of an equestrian statue of Miguel Primo de Rivera, crowning a sculptural group placed within a fountain. It is located in the center of the Plaza del Arena.
Heading for the border in Gibraltar
Stopping for an English pint in the Fox and Hounds Pub before heading to Morrisons for teabags
Parked up in La Línea just over the border from Gibraltar for the night
Benalmadena we park up next to Nicky and Paul who have lived here for over 30 years and we chat about familiar places and people that once lived in the village
Benalmadena Beach front
Benalmadena Marina which doesn’t look any different from 20 year’s ago
Catching the train to Fuengirola for the day
It’s 8 years since we last came to Castell de Ferro and not much as changed
We pass the sea of plastic known as the “Mar de Plástico,” this is the world’s largest concentration of greenhouses, benefiting from over 3,000 hours of sun yearly, allowing for intense year-round cultivation in a near-desert environment
Looking down from the village of Mojácar
Views from the village of Mojacar
The women from Mojácar “Mojaquera” were one of the biggest surprises for the first foreigners who visited here . They found shy women who would cover their faces with their yellow scarves, holding them with their teeth, while climbing the steep village hills with pitchers full of water balanced on their heads.
It’s a cold, wet and windy day at La Fabriquilla Beach when we head out for a walk
This little bird decided to he wanted to have dinner with us tonight
Walking the coastline of Los Alcázares
The old bus station in Los Alcázares is now used for motorhomes to park for the night but with road noise and birds nesting in the metal frame work it isn’t the peaceful place we first thought it would be.
José Sazatornil “Saza” was one of the important national comedians of the 20th century, José Sazatornil “Saza”. It was custmary to see “Saza” riding around Los Alcázares on his inseparable bicycle; greeting his friends, running his errands, going to concerts in the courtyard of La Encarnación
The weather isn’t great, so we spend two days in San Javier, getting chatting to our neighbour Alan, who is originally from Kent too, so we have a lot in common to chat about.
Aires and Campsites used in Spain
La Palma del Condado
N 37° 23′ 5
W 6° 33′ 28
Jerez de la Frontera
N 36° 42′ 47
W 6° 6′ 35
La Línea de la Concepción
N 36° 9′ 24
W 5° 21′ 20
Arroyo de la Miel
N 36° 35′ 36
W 4° 31′ 53
Castell de Ferro
N 36° 43′ 12
W 3° 21′ 52
La Fabriquilla Beach
Calle Carretera Antigua del Faro
Almería
N 36° 44′ 20
W 2° 12′ 30
Mojácar
N 37° 8′ 26
W 1° 51′ 12
Cuevas del Almanzora
N 37° 14′ 4
W 1° 47′ 36
Los Alcázares
N 37° 43′ 47
W 0° 51′ 41
San Javier
N 37° 48′ 15
W 0° 48′ 57
La Marina del Pinet
N 38° 9′ 33
W 0° 38′ 15