Spain #3

Posted April 18

Wednesday, a day in the books ……

This morning my biorhythm again played tricks on me. 4:45 ready awake …… What is that? I can sleep well at home. But unfortunately. Just water the local vegetation and back into the sleeping bag. I dunk a bit further and 7 hours it is beautiful. Out of it, stuffing the sleeping bag, emptying the airbed and packing up some stuff that I do not need before I crawl out of the tent to make coffee … .hhhh instant coffee. Before 10 am I have to be gone, otherwise I have lost my fought off yesterday. That has to be successful, I want to be out of the village at 9 o’clock. Roll, another cup of soluble coffee stuff and continue packing. It is quiet at the campsite, there are many pensionados because it sees yellow of the Dutch license plates and satellite dishes. It looks like Poelenburg in Zaandam. I continue to poke, suitcases on the bike and almost ready to put on the suit after brushing my teeth.

The neighbor from 2 places further asks if I want coffee. Hmmm, really coffee … ..tasty! I accept the invitation and walk along. Is she cold or …… nah, never mind! She talks a hundred out and makes a compliment that I look good and is only on such a big engine bla bla bla … Yes, their marriage they now try to save by camping together because hubby was retired and suddenly 24 / 7 on her lip. The speech flow continues and I hear everything about their car, caravan, camper etc. Again a compliment … ..I think it was nice. I empty my bin and thank her for the pore. It was not cold so …. 09:10 I drive away.

Today we decided to go back to Argles s / mer to cross the border along the coast. Starting the engine, another sweep to the neighbor and gas on it. In no time I am back on the highway and just before the Péage in France there is still that exit. Inland roads lead to the town and soon the party starts. Argles s / mer I leave behind me and the first corner is a fact, the 2nd, 3rd … ..127e ….

What a way is this. Pure, sorry ladies, corner porn. Here Kim Holland can still suck a tip, even if she likes to do it if I believe it. I pass the border, which is only recognizable by 2 old boxes with closed windows and grafity on the walls. Also no beauty so say … .. The road meanders through and in El Port de la Selva I drive too far. Huh, I had to follow the coast anyway? But no, I have to turn. I drive through narrow steep streets that are more holes than street. My bottle of OranginAAAA vibrates almost from its label. The route picks up again and I shine again from ear to ear. Up the mountains, on … .whatever! What a party again. I climb and climb, the view becomes breathtakingly beautiful, the bay and the village bathe in the sunlight. Stop somewhere and take a picture, it has to. I am quiet …. I jump into jet saddle again and continue. It remains party, every turn again. Even though the road surface is crying. Pits as large as side sacrifices, it is no way to dream away. I saw one pit too late, fortunately not the biggest in the collection. Auw, but it went well. Rim and tire are doing well. Soon Andorra came back to the table yes or no. Ben and a man I spoke this morning were not 100% fluently enthusiastic, so I let it shoot. It is nice to be able to adjust your plans on the spot, nothing has to be done and everything is allowed. I am going through Ripoll and Berga. Adjust navigation and hop … .. But I have to eat and drink. It is already after 12 and the belly is rumbling. Just a little further, another small piece. I have to force myself to stop. Grrrrr, conflict with myself. But also, fresh bread with pepper salami is not a punishment either. The belly is full, the bladder empty and we continue. At first seriously boring over a piece of straightforward road, but then it breaks loose again. Turn after corner …… If you are ever here in the neighborhood, take that C-26. To do! Oh yeah, first I drive through a tunnel that studies for a 3-star fridge. Brrrrr, it is freezing cold in the Tunel Collabós. As mentioned, Ripoll-Berga is cool, again to link to the right and to the right, nice to push the wheel and pretty flat through the bend …. Time goes fast, the kilometers go fast and before I know it I have already passed the beautiful moment of 100,000 km on the counter 40 kilometers. Hmmmm, too bad … no picture.

It is around 3 o’clock when I search in Google for a campsite that is an hour’s drive away. I find one in Tàrrega. Nice, I drive on long roads with nice curves where you can enjoy around 110. Little left, bit right. Like a spears before I know it I drive 130. Ali, drop off. I enter Tàrrega and go past the pump. I can not find the camp so quickly. And there I am face to face with the most beautiful pump operator I have ever seen in Spain. Big bunch of curls, long red nails and viewers as big as marbles. I stammer and stink something, she pulls a beast off my cardigan with her long red painted nails and I try to explain through Google that I am looking for a campsite. But it does not work … I do not know what is happening … I, I, I …… But I exhort myself, straighten my shoulders again and finally realize that I have to look further. The campsite is no longer. She indicates an alternative and I thank her. I think we are entwined in each other’s arms and … ..and … .. But in reality I almost break my neck over the threshold. “Soup chicken, you do that handy” I mutter in myself. She laughs …… .such!

Via the supermarket on the other side of the roundabout I set course for the campsite which my “beloved for 60 seconds” has indicated. I drive on for 30 minutes, if I have to refuel tomorrow or the day after or anytime I go …… well, she does not understand you, soup chicken.

The site has a place, I can look for myself where and even the swimming pool is included for the price of € 15.

First chips and a beer!

 

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