Mike: It’s a mystery, but at some point between slumber and awakeness, I demolish a bed. Waking in a tangle of pine, sponge mattress and sheet, we do the only thing possible – ignore it, have a coffee and leave. After deciding that Salamanca would be a good place for lunch, we took off. Stopping for fuel (130 kms later) I innocently asked Mark about remembering to collect his passport (Pathportos) ‘El Problemo’ exclaimed Mark, and thus began the day’s adventure.
Contrary to the popular ‘Audrey Hepburn number’ the rain doesn’t fall on the areas flatter than the rest, in the country known as Spain. The precipitation tends to favour the hillier areas, and as a result whilst travelling through those areas commonly known as hills/ mountains etc... We got wet, due to the rain (What falls in Spain).
Mark in his travels in search of Pathportos came to experience the frozen stuff – Hail, buckets of the stuff (os) When we eventually caught up with him he was wet and cold (poor thingos) We decided to make camp – found a rather nice hotel actually, cheap too. Stayed near Salamanca, a big ride tomorrow.
Had food; it was ok, after meaty discussions we retired to the room to watch musically challenged Jesus impersonator/ tyre salesmen type singer strangle songs to enthusiastic crowd on telly.
We had become comfortably numb watching our muse, when all of a sudden... Vocal teutonic in next room decides that eleven is not the appropriate volume (probably right) but still goose-stepping up to our room, wearing lederhosen and singing German marching songs is not on! (Made that bit up) Turned down TV and went to bed.
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