Date: Sunday, 5 October 2003, 3:41 pm (9:41 in France)
Subject: Road with 4 digits and Roman Numerals

Hello to all,   I have to explain in the beginning that when I was planning this periplus -- this long and complicated journey -- I decided to take little-used country roads and to avoid the main highways. All that was before I discovered the Pyrenees mountains and the roads with 4 digits. When I left St-Jean de Luz, I therefore chose a little secondary road that followed the border of the cliffs, with the mountains on the left and the Atlantic Ocean on the right, which made for vistas worthy of the best surfing films. Given that my first destination was Bilbao, in Spain, I had to cut across the Pyrenees and it's there that I left the sea.   Feeling courageous, I thus took the first road that said it was headed for Bilbao and followed it. The alternative was the superhighway (a toll road), and that did not interest me in the least. I therefore chose Route 2625 and the direction of the mountains.

I soon learned at my expense the significance of the number attached to the road. A number like A5 is an excellent road. Two lanes in each direction, but often a toll road, and you have to pay attention. The speed limit is 130km hr (80 mph) and I clung to the right at 120 km (75 mph) because everyone was going 150 (93 mph).

Two numbers like N10 is also good. Only one lane in each direction but a good road. Speed limit 110 kmh (68 mph), but you have to watch out when passing or overtaking another car. It is quite workable, but there again the Spaniards go 130 (80 mph).

When the adventure begins is in 3 or 4 digits. There are signs once in a while, but only when you approach the A5 that wants you to pay. Feeling courageous, I chose the famous D2625 to find myself on a road where the view in the beginning was breath-taking. I arrived in a valley in the form of a horseshoe encircled by the Pyrenees. The road was beautiful and straight until I crossed the countryside. The dratted Route 2625 climbed the mountain in tight S curves and the speed limit was 20 km hr (12 mph), which was already much too fast in my opinion. In this way I climbed the Pyrenees in second gear, first gear on a number of curves. It's a good thing that the Renault people had given me a car with better performance, or I would still be there pushing it.

When I finally got to the top, I had to go down again and I could only hope that there was no one on the other side. Let me tell you that the next invitation to take the A5 was very welcome, and the devil take economy. It had taken me four hours to go 60 km (37 miles). A mountain goat would have been smarter and would have refused to undertake that course.

When I arrived in Bilbao, I wanted to see the Guggenheim Museum and that's what I did. I saw it on the other side of the road! I never found a parking place and so I continued on to my next destination, Burgos.

Once I arrived, I had the good fortune to find a Good Samaritan who helped me find a hostel near the center of the city. After checking in, I went to tour around the center of town and visited among other things a large and majestic cathedral. In the evening, I chose a little train that covered all the points of interest in the city.

The next day, Saturday the 4th of October, I was prepared to contront more obstacles, but nothing like what actually happened. It all began in Segovia where I arrived by a magnificend aquaduct that welcomes me to the old city. I climbed up the narrow little streets to the cathedral to see this vestige of the 16th century. I would have touched it, I was so close, but I had forgotted to lower the window of the car! In effect, another visit by car, since I could not find a place to park. One had to arrive early (about 9 am) or between 2:30 and 3 when everything is closed. Outside those hours, no luck! I still took beautiful pictures of the outside of the city with the castle and its walls.

After this flash visit, off in the direction of Avila where I had more luck, arriving near 2:30. It was really crazy, nobody in the streets. I could visit at my leisure and walk around the city walls on foot. I thought I would soend the night there, but I made the mistake of being too ambitious and continuing on to El Escorial things were going well. this city is not quite 50 km from Madrid and I wanted to see the cathedral. I arrived at 5 pm, but the cathedral was already closed.

No problem, I headed to the city to find a hotel. Saturday night, 6:30, that should have been easy, but no. Imagine that even in Madrid there was not a single hotel room. I therefore turned around, and went to the nearest airport. I had to follow the signs in Spanish, but I managed nonetheless. I finally found a hotel, but it cost me an arm, 30 miles from the city about 10 pm. In all, I had driven 521 km (323 miles) on this exhausting Saturday.

This luxury hotel was nonetheless very nice and I wanted everything to go smoothly on Sunday, so I reserved a room as early as possible. This was without counting on the bicycle race in the center of the city which closed the two main arteries to let the cyclists use the grand boulevards. Sometimes, people say that trouble always finds me!

More circling around with all the other cars jammed up, wanting to find parking spots, until I found myself an illegal spot on the sidewalk to dump my wagon (that's for you, Danielle). Near my room and on the way to the sites. I got a ticket on a double-decker tourist bus which threaded its way through the city to get an overview of the city. I am going to stay here tomorrow to see the museums that seem the most interesting.

A little parenthetical comment, I caught the last bus that went near the soccer stadium. Everything was blocked up because the Madrid team was playing this evening. At least, it was the driver of the bus who had to deal with the traffic, while I was contorted with laughter on the upper level of the bus.

Well, finished for tonight. Til next time.

Paul

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