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One of my favourite stops in Spain was the small town of Xativa where we climbed up to the crumbling ruins of a castle on the hill above the town amongst wild flowers and vines. We nearly fell down an old well, but it was worth it. We drove on toward the coast, but Mary the car began making very strange noises before developing a scary wobble. We pulled up outside a wine wholesalers and went in to use their phone, helped with translation by a German couple who were there buying wine for their new guesthouse. We discovered that the nearest Ford garage for miles around was 200 yards down the road. Then the German couple’s teenage daughters (who could speak great English) arrived. They had been sent to collect us and took us back to the guesthouse and set us up in a room before returning to the garage after siesta to translate for us. We ended up spending two nights with the family (I am not sure the father was too pleased about it) before the car was repaired. We spent the time walking around the nearby fishing town and beach. For a while it looked as though the car might take a week to fix (needing a part from the UK or Germany) but thankfully we got it back and we able to thank the family and drive off towards France.