Mainland Spain

We landed in Barcelona, late Saturday evening and stayed in town overnight.  We did not explore the city, some would say that's a shame, but as Barcelona has the highest rate of pick pocket's in the world, we stayed put.  

The following morning after a relaxing (all you can eat) breakfast, (Dave's favourite!) we were to navigate the railway station to get the fast train to Girona.  Oh boy........The amount of people in that station, it was like an airport terminal at xmas time.  Huge is an understatement.  The station incorporates local, regional, interstate and cross countries services. Travellers are co-ordinated into groups like hearding sheep, in rows through scanning machines, luggage was scanned too, then in more rows according to your train, then more rows according to your carriage number, then more rows according to your luggage.  So impressive.  Those lines just all moved in an orderly manner, helpers everywhere.  What could have been chaos, was very organised.

Train moved along at 200 km per hour, but it felt like it was hardly moving, not like the Warrnambool rattler. Dead quite, I imagine so easy to fall asleep, head lolling, mouth open....

First ride from Girona yesterday, was stressful to say the least.  Had to navigate out of town, on cobbled streets, cars everywhere, but they are so patient.  They must just see my stressed face and think, 'oh look at that poor thing, let her go by lov' 

A short ride of 72km fairly flat through the country side, very green, lush

'Game of Thrones' villages scattered across the farmland. 

Today we rode to Peratallada, a beautiful medieval village, built in the 10th century and known for the best preserved architecture in Spain. We discuss the route the night before and see what road we need to take to access it from our apartment.  However, this morning, I don't know what happened to that plan, we get hopelessly lost in the cobble streets and waist 40 minutes accessing the route.  By this time my horns are out, very frustrated, but we eventually get onto the quiet farm, single lane roads.

No cars are allowed in the narrow cobbled alleys of Peratallada, lined with beautiful stone houses, all surrounded by a (dry) moat carved into the rock, impressive indeed. 

I'd imagine this place would get stinking hot in summer, but today it's cool after overnight rain. Few tourists around as peak season doesn't hit till' June.  We find a nice coffee for the journey home.

Rain clouds in the distance, so we make haste through more tiny villages, on smooth roads, no traffic. Some have a real strong stench, 'poo' I say, 'it's just compost Ang'. 'No, that's definitely cow shit mate'.  But there are few cows, a couple of herds in a group, but not in paddocks as such.  Maybe they are kept in the lower floors of their homes, like in rural Italy? 

Towns are very neat, tree's pruned to perfection.  Paddock after paddock of grain's, corn, beans, apples, tree stocks, you name it.  But no fences.  (see cow's must be kept inside)

We make it back, just as the rain starts to fall....