Magic Car, Pet
Our original plan had been to take the ferry from Barcelona across to Genoa, but was amended when we realised we had time to squeeze in at least some of France. Turned out that crossing the Pyrenees was enough!
And, when a red-breasted robin, harbinger of winter, flies into your room, you've got to take that as some kind a sign. That is, if you hadn't already noticed the stinging cold and your breath hanging in the air, that is. The French Mistral has an awesome power to strip away body heat and good intentions alike...
...so we hired a car.
This had a good side (aside from the obvious increase in "poke") and a bad side. The upside was that it allowed us to make a diversion to visit Carcassone, a real fairy tale of a walled town and castle, which it had been R's wish to see for some time.
The downside is driving in Genoa. Less than an hour into Italy, R suddenly understood from where all his father's phobias of driving in Italy had sprung. Genoa (especially at midnight) is an Escher-esque nightmare of sliproads, flyovers, bridges and tunnels. That's not to mention the large numbers of "forest rangers" in the urban jungle..."That's not a woman...that's a man, man!"
Day 21km (Total 1233.7km)
"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world France didn't exist."