The hotel last night was something out of the past - almost Victorian - sort of English feel - not that there was a word spoken . When you turn up on a bike the receptionist always tells you the price cos you should really be staying in the hostel round the corner - and in general I have but last night was the last night on the road . Single room - 65€ -I've stayed in hostels just as good for 25 !
However, Camprodon is a smashing place - a couple of fast flowing rivers - suddenly converging into mayhem and giving a wonderful sound and vision ( there's a song in that somewhere ) and people come to gaze - and so they should !
It strange crossing from Spain to France. You would think Spain is the poorer relation - wouldn't you ? No . Catalonia is dominated ( even on the French side ) by - you've guessed it - Barcelona . It's not only in football - life as well. Barcelonians come over to France for the weekend - perhaps do some skiing or for a Sunday lunch - don't mind the prices - happy to pay it - it's all very cultural . The French go over to Spain cos it's cheaper !
Bike was squealing a bit today ( that squeaking in bike terms ) .I think he gets a bit pissed off when I stop off for a drink of water ( that's a beer - in Roger's world ) and he just looks on . I have promised him , when we get to where we want to go , he'll have a really good drink ( oil in bike terms). We had a long climb this morning and I think he's showing his age - not sure if I would want to put him through it again .
But here we are - in Ceret - at last . Bike is already tucked up in bed ( hope he's not waiting for me !) and I'm on my first bottle of cava - sardinas ready to go and a bit of Brucie on the turn table - all I'm missing is ... MY NIC .
Cu x. Ps I've already seen some of you around Ceret . Tomorrow - in my analogue ( is that right?) I shall expose you!
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