The Hobbits had to leave Madrid out of fear of more snow and an ever expanding waistline. So, after one last trip to the Museum of Ham, we decided, on the recommendation of Mum Fryer, to head south to Toledo, a charming little walled city perched upon a mountain about 100kms south of Madrid.

We arrived at the train station at the very reasonable hour of 10.30am only to be told that the weekly train to Toledo didn't leave until 3.30pm (further strengthening our already firm belief in the efficiency of the Spanish train system…). Fortunately for us there wasn't a snow cloud in the sky and the temperature had soared to at least 8 degrees. So we spent a rather pleasant few hours in the park, eating cookies, doing crosswords and keeping an eye out for killer feral cats, which the park seemed to have in great abundance.

Finally it was time to catch the train, which arrived 1/2 an hour late and meandered it's way through the Spanish countryside until it came to a station about half an hour from Toledo. There, we were all kicked off the train and shepherded onto a bus which took us the rest of the way there.

Our guidebook had pointed us in the direction of a hostel, beautifully located on the hill overlooking Toledo and inside a 13th century monastery. The hobbits struggled up the hill with their packs…. Only to be told they were full.

Back down the hill and up the other side into town we found a hotel that had a room for us, but only for one night. It seemed, judging by the looks of the other guest checking in, that there was some kind of Lego-hair convention in town…. A quick check around the other hotels confirmed this as all the other hotels were also booked out for the following night and all the other visiting gringos displayed very healthy, perfectly coiffered heads of hair… looks like our visit to Toledo would be a short one.

Still, over the course of the next 24 hours we managed to visit most of the spots of interest, including a couple of God's houses and Allah's house as well. We also found a escalator to nowhere and a perfectly decent Menu del Dia. All in all a lovely, if rather brief, visit.

Next morning we enjoyed coffee and sweeties in the sun of the main square and counted no less than 7 Gringo buses roll into town… time to head off. A quick trip to the train station confirmed we had missed the train back to Madrid and there were no trains anywhere else. A far more successful trip to the bus station has us back to Madrid in an hour for less than 10 euros…

Not having learned our lesson, we tried the train station to Madrid, as we had planned to go to Granada. However it seemed that it wasn’t possible to get there in anything less than 7 hours. So we went to Cordoba, a scant 3 hours away (and about the same distance from Madrid).

We arrived in Cordoba around dusk, everything was bathed in orange (especially the famous Orange trees of Andalucia) and it was a delightfully warm 15 degrees. This heading south thing was starting to pay off and everything seemed to be looking up. That is, until we reached the first hostel, where the request for a room was met with the soon to be familiar response 'Completo'. No to be put off (the Hobbits and I have had pretty much no success with hostels this trip) we headed off for the multitude of one and two star hostals and pensions in town.

And were met, at one after the other, with a sad shake of the head and a 'Completo'.

Finally, after a few hours, the Hobbits managed to find a stable with a few cows and donkeys and we settled in to wait for the three wise men...

But never mind, the weather was good and Cordoba, on first impressions, looked to be a rather attractive (if a little gringoey) town.

Next day it rained. All day. And night. The stable had no hot water and the Hobbits quickly explored the one attraction in town - a huge and very impressive House of Allah, and as if this wasn’t holy enough, there was a House of God on the inside (we’re not sure what Allah is charging in rent, but whatever it is I guess God can afford it). They then explored all the knick-knackery stores in town.

And still it was raining. In the absence of Arc-building wood, the Hobbits decided to head still further south. Europe just wouldn’t do. Time to hit Africa.