Day 23 – Into Spain

Woke up at about 8 and when I went downstairs to check out there wasn’t anybody. The owners were evidently still asleep. They must have been really trusting because the unmanned reception desk also served as a well-stocked bar. Someone with less scruples might well have helped themselves to some nice souvenirs!

From here the roads into Spain, by avoiding the highways, are taking me into some pretty hairy narrow mountain lanes. And it’s snowing. But all is well and by noon I’m out of France and into scenic Andorra, a Rhode Island sized country wedged between the two countries. I didn’t have much reason to dilly dally here but was happy to see the cheapest gas yet so I filled up and within a few more minutes over the border into Spain.

On coming over the borders I have my first reality check when the stations are all yapping in Catalan, a dialect which sounds like Spanish spoken by a retard but which is largely understandable by Spanish speakers. I had forgotten that the whole region was tussling with Madrid over the issue of independence and from what I gleaned they were (are) very hopeful they’ll get their independence from Spain. I listened to this talk radio for lack of anything else on. Throughout all Europe I have noticed how “chatty” the stations are. On the other hand, I can’t complain that those avant-garde stations that do play music tend to go for American pop.

By now the day is getting a little long in the tooth so I pulled off the road and picked a suitably out of the way place to call it a night. I’m getting good at these. So far no one has bothered me or as far as I know even noticed I was there. And being a way’s off the road where the traffic noises sound distant that helps get a good night’s sleep.

Had the usual dinner of tuna, bread and cheese.

Day 24