Brian and I had one of the lowest points of the journey recently, when we had left Bareclona and were traveling the rocky Costa Brava. We experienced some physical and emotional set backs. In the face of a failed bike lock tying the bikes together seemingly forever, we waited for the car mechanic to reopen and cut through one of our locks! We decided the day was doomed for riding at 7PM and retired to L'Estartit, where out of our frustration we happened to mount an enormous hill in a residential street, only to become completely exhausted, doubled over, and climb onto a wall overlooking the perfect Mediterranean port in evening and down on an abandon villa carport. Such ended, in our Mediterranean villa, the difficult day.
The town name, appropriate in our state of rebirth and starting new our journies, rang true as we cycled away early and climbed, reached, passed and had a beer in celebration of: CROSSING THE FRENCH BORDER! I have officially cycled through an entire country. I spent 32 days completely excited about Spain, Spanish, and these people of Southern Europe but it is time to move ever onward. Pressing the pedals down, down.
Suddenly, all Spanish has dissappeared, Brian must rely on my French, the poor guy, and we camped on a bluff overlooking the Mediterranean at the end of the mighty continental Pyrenees where they crashed into the crystal blue sea. We ate our dinner in the sea breeze at dusk and shared a bottle of wine with some French people we befriended and I practiced my French! This got easier as the wine consumption continued along, as is to be expected. We are marching ever north now and shoot for crossing paths with the Tour de France in just 7 days!! Vivela France!
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