Morning breakfast climbing club gathered for its final meet at the cliffs of Camarasa. Sweatily, we slipped our way up a couple of routes before the midday sun.
Then, just as the mad dogs came out to play, so we set off on the tandem. Dropping out of the Pyrenees proper and heading over rolling plains towards the coast was everything but downhill. Nevertheless, we found out how Spain had been able to supply us with so much bread.
Eventually the 38ºC heat became too much and, in search of shade, we napped in a drain by the side of the road.
Peddling on, our luck changed as we came across an old bar with magnum ice creams. We agreed this was probably the luckiest thing to happen to us on the entire trip so we bought a couple of lottery tickets to make the most of the opportune time (if we win we will buy a van with an engine and air con).
However, our luck only took a turn for the worse. As our legs weakened, so did the brakes. Seeking signs to Barcelona like Hansel and Gretel following sweeties to their doom, we peddled on as the world got darker. Various mechanical issues with the chain prompted us, like the fabled duo, to leave a trail of messages on the roadside.
Hunger set in. Thankfully it was too dark for the vultures to make a move now though.
Then, out of the tears of yet another closed supermarket, came a man called Angel. He glowed. Angel led us through the turnstile gates of BonArea (for the reasonable fee of €6) and to the land of factory fed humans at this roadside services. A rather dystopian spot with vending machine wine and boxes of raw meat that you could fry yourself. Soon we were missing our drain from earlier.
Glad to leave the greasy tannoys of BonArea eatery, we headed off with a parting gift of natural yogurt from Angel 💙.
If you think this post drags on, imagine having to live every moment of it because that’s what we did with our day.
And night didn’t treat us so well either. Our next destination of Montserrat remained too far away to reach. Camp (ie three suitable trees) was eventually near a motorway in what Alex is convinced was a pet graveyard.
The next morning’s cycle didn’t get easier; the old road beside the motorway ran out. A helpful lady gave us two options to proceed to Montserrat:
- Just go the wrong way down that sliproad and against the motorway traffic for a few hundred metres and you’ll be there…
- …or follow “that path” into the countryside for 30 minutes.
So obviously we choose the countryside route because we love nature and thought we might get some pretty snaps. Here they are:
And that’s how we made it to El Bruc!