We've Done a Decathlon
After breakfast on the deserted beach at Barcelona (just hang on, your schadenfreude moment is coming), we headed off with good intentions of reaching France over the edge of the Pyrenees.
While winding up gentle hills and through deep forests, travellers on the N2 can take advantage of the complement of female "forest rangers" lining the roadside at regular intervals (marked by white plastic garden furniture when the "ranger" is temporarily unavailable) who are always happy to show a passing trucker around the local flora and fauna for a reasonable fee.
...not long to the schadenfreude...
Heading in to the outskirts of Girona, R's pannier rack finally caved in under the combined weight of D's handbag, corduroy jacket and dress boots, taking out another spoke in the process. While trusty cable ties kept us rolling into Girona, another bike shop visit was required (sorry again Fraser). By the time the goodly folk at Decathlon had replaced the spoke and rack, it was too late in the day to press on to the frontier - still, there are worse places to stop for the night than Girona. This ancient town, especially noted for the Jewish Quarter, "The Call" of narrow cobbled streets dotted with public works of art and leading up to the cathedral, has medieval houses overhanging the river Onyal.
If we click our cleats three times and think of Emmanuelle Beart , we will get to France tomorrow...(D can think of Johnny Depp if she likes - he lives in France, y'know.)
Day 54.34km (Total 1123.9km)