Tomorrow...

 Final blog is tomorrow. Then you can relax....


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Pinchos and punctures

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 The alarm sounded. We ignored it, happy in the knowledge that today was quite a short day. Not as short as yesterday but still a mere 34 miles. I've kept the next two days short because of the word, Pyranees.  Actually,  leaving Bilbao was seriously up. The sat nav tried taking us up a street which was so steep, it was actual stairs. We made the sat nav  think again and it took us up a street which might as well have been stairs. Five minutes of that and we decided it was time for breakfast. We stopped at a little roadside bar and had little baps full of prosciutto type ham and a coffee. I now know these little baps, which are a ubiquitous part of the Spanish diet - it seems - are called pinchos. We are also discovering that they include this ham with every dish that they make. Chicken and ham. Tuna and ham. Prawn and ham, Pork and ham... As we set off again, I remembered something which a Spanish man had called out to us yesterday. We didn't know one word of what h...
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The ups and downs of a flat ride

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 We slept on our bed with no covers in our static caravan. Not because it was hot. In fact, it was cold. But the ferocious staff only gave us one sheet and two pillow cases. It's an odd feeling, going to bed fully clothed in your 'day' clothes but without the security of a sheet. Just a sheet. That's all you need as a barrier between you and the outside world. In spite of such an extreme bed situation, we slept. Every now and again, we would wake up and find something else to put on but we slept.  Because we had passed no shops for miles the previous day, we had no food or drinks so when the alarm went off at 7am, we had no choice but to have a drink of water (no alternative beverages being available), get into our wet, cold clothes (we had washed them the night before) load up the tandem and go. But not before the lady in white appeared and demanded €10 with menaces for kindly lending us the inadequate bedding. It wasn't the easiest first few miles. No breakfast, n...
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Incense, incessant, insensed

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 Incense. This, mingled with cigarette smoke was a constant presence whilst we stayed in the air bnb near Bayonne. It was an interesting experience all round. The whole of Bayonne was populated with people wearing white T shirts and red neckerchiefs. In the end, I asked our host why. It turned out that there was a festival for the whole weekend in Bayonne. I learnt that it was to involve much singing, dancing and drinking but my French comprehension didn't stretch to the reason for looking like a cross between sailors and cheerleaders. However, the other guests in this house were young. It doesn't matter how much we like to think that we're 'down with the kids', we just aren't. The revellers returned at regular intervals throughout the night, ranging from the considerate to the 'too anebriated to care'. There was never more than a two hour gap and we completed the sequence by getting up at 7am. incessant. The day was how I hoped it would be. One, giant b...
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