HA, bet we fooled you!   Still in Barcelona!

It was highly recommend we must see Montserrat while here.  So we donned our walking shoes and headed to the metro station, then to the train station, then to the cable car

and then to the tram that took us to the 4000 foot top of the mountain that is the namesake for the Caribbean island.  As impressive as this mountain is, it is the Benedictine Abbey, Santa Maria de Montserrat that has made it famous.  The history of this abbey is steep (the basilica was reconstructed in the 1850’s after being destroyed), but it’s religious significance and healing aspects are widespread and have lasted for centuries.It is difficult to capture the feeling of the mountain and the abbeybut the spectacular beauty of the inside is undeniable,especially during a wedding.And the magical sound of church bells that seem to ring from the mountains that surround you, is truly ethereal.

We followed a couple of the walking trails, but you could loose yourself in this mountain, so headed back to the city, which was an adventure in itself.  Twice we were told to “Get off the train.” When we politely inquired, they simply said “Take a bus.”  Turns out there was a problem with the track, that they neglected to mention, but we did make it safely back to the city, albeit a bit tired.  Not too tired, of course, to take a couple pics

along our walk back.Tomorrow, no surprises, we will be on our bikes.

Castellion to Barcelona, Spain

199 miles

Hazy and humid this morning as we wound our way out of Barcelona into a stiff headwind, catching a few last glimpses of the city’s sites.On our bus tour we had seen this office building from a distance, but our route out of town had us pass right by it.Within the hour the hazy sky turned cloudy and saved us from the sun and 20 plus degrees on the thermometer.  Grabbed our first opportunity to ride the beach road;

it was enough turn in the road to put the wind at our back.  We sailed through small towns with the smell of seafood cooking in every one;saw some very interesting architecture,picturesque beachesand even got a glimpse of a castle;a truly beautiful ride.We saw a lot of bikers on their Sunday ride and got a lot of enthusiastic waves and shouts.At 11:00, as the climbing began, the wind switched to in our face,

but the towns continued to be interesting and the scenery fabulous.After an hour of small ups and downs, we once again dropped down to the beach

with hundreds and hundreds of people walking the sidewalks.  With the overcast skies, they’d vacated the beach and were window shopping.  By noon and almost 40 miles, we were faced with the decision to ride 25 more miles (over mountains and into the wind) or stay put. Not quite sure of which road to take and exactly how bad the hills were, we checked in; a great decision given the thunder/ligthening storm that blew in an hour later…..it was wicked.We saw a brief break in the sky and took a stroll down the tourist trap streets of the town, like walking down Atlantic Avenue..  The wind was blowing and it was cold, something we had not felt in several weeks.  We retreated to our room and watched as the storm got a second wind and seemed to come from every direction.

Big game tonight, European Football Championships between Spain and Italy.  It was pouring as we went downstairs to watch the game in front of the big screen TV, along with the entire hotel.

We only lasted for the first half, but knew that Spain won based on the yells and fireworks for hours afterwards.

We woke to a glorious morning.  The rain had washed away the hazy skies and hot temperatures.  Though the thermometer showed 70, it felt much cooler with the wind and the only thing left of the clouds were the ones that hung on the mountain peaks like snow.  That’s the good news!  The wind was in our face and the climbing on very busy roads began within two blocks,

but the cool air made it so much more bearable.  Despite the conditions it was gorgeous.The conditions being climbing,climbing and more climbing,but did we mention it was an absolutely gorgeous day?

At our stop last night, we had the option to take the coast road or go inland, inland being the “easier” course. Can’t imagine what the coast road was like if this was easy! The inland route afforded us rich farmland

and beautiful green.Sometime before noon, we had about a half an hour on a country side road that was blissful;even saw sunflowers for the first time in weeks.Passed through Girona, the only city along the course today; obviously steeped in history and architecture.There were other tempting sights on the hills and through the pastures.By 2:00, as we started to drop from our last climb of the day, we got our first glimpse of the Pyrenees in the distance.They are breathtakingly beautiful, though they grew larger and larger as we continued to bike.We were checked into a hotel by three, after a particularly tough 54 miles with the mountains and wind.  But there were sights to see in the city, so off we went.  Salvador Domingo Felipe Jacinto Dalí i Domenech was born here in 1904, and his museum typifies him and his quirky (if not, somewhat disturbing) art.The city streets were narrow and filled with people by the time we got to town.  So we joined them in their late afternoon stroll, until we spotted a towerwe had to explore.  The Parish Church of Sant Pere (Saint Peter) is from the 13th and 14th centuries;it’s inside is simple and yet grand,

the stained glass breathtaking.

Found a quirky little place for dinner

(those are ink pens that line the wall).  Since it was our last day in Spain, we decided on paella for dinner, which was outstanding,  Of course, there was a bottle of wine (we will miss Rioja) and delicious salad, an appetizer of stuffed ‘something’ with cheese and topped with a divine sauce, along with tuna empanadas.  All in all, a great evening for our final night in Spain.  Tomorrow we climb these mountains.

We will miss Spain and it’s people (and wine), but on to the next country and adventure.

The mountains were waiting for us this morning as we pulled away with clear skies and a second day of wonderfully cool temps (70).  We were not looking forward to the climb over the Pyrenees (which began immediately), but their beauty was intriguing.It was a slow steady climb

through the beautiful hills.  A few miles before leaving Spain, was’ La Fronterra’; it was like South of the Border, except with warehouses for beer, booze, wine and anything else that is expensive in France.  Every single car in the parking lot had France plates.  We then passed the antiqued border crossing in Spain,

the only sign that mentioned the next country

and shortly the ‘official’ border in France,no Welcome to France or Thanks for Visiting Spain, times have changed.  On the French side of the border the shops were tightly packed on a a narrow street that led up a very steep hill with sights everywhere. Watching for car doors and people walking out into the street mad navigation challenging, but we were going slow enough to stop easily.

We had a spectacularily beautiful drop from our long climb up the Pyrenees, much like our ride out of Telluride (just warmer).  With the narrow roads, there was not any opportunity to stop to take pictures, managed one close to the bottom.

The mountain peak of Pic du Canigou (9100 feet) in the distance were breathtaking and we continually took (too many) pictures, though tough to see when not there in person.  Once out of the mountains we entered the beautiful town of Le Boulou with streets lined in flowers,

but the range we had just crossed, still loomed behind us.

We were happy to see the French had vineyards well stocked for our consumption.

Our stay tonight was an unexpected surprise. Perpignan is beautiful, flowers along the river,beautiful streets accented by a magnificent sky,The Castillet from the 1400’swhich was originally the city gate and then a prison and the Cathédrale Saint-Jean Baptiste.

Unfortunately, they closed the doors, just as I walked up, so no pictures of inside.  Guess the French keep a different schedule than the Spanish, which is wonderful when it come to dinnertime and we were ready. Besides the required (and delicious) salad and Jerry’s Bolognese (about the best, so far), I went for the mussels Catalun (onions, peppers and tomatoes in a white wine sauce).

Not only was it unbelievable fabulous, this pot was about ten inches deep, filled with mussels.  A good celebration for our crossing of the Pyrenees.

Another beautiful, cool, albeit windy morning.

As soon as we were out of town our road became one with the highway. Though it was only for 5 to 6 miles, we had to get off after only three; just did not seem safe. Unfortunately, there was no other road that took us ‘directly’ in the direction we needed to go.  We wound our way through small towns,

with neat and clean streets lined with flowers

and small country roads

stopping often to decide on a turn.  Several times we were offered assistance, by anyone nearby.  Once such case, an older gentleman on a bike stopped to see if we needed help.  He explained to us in perfect French which way to go.  He found us several blocks later at a crossroads, knowing we had not understood his original instructions, and led us to the rode that we needed to be on.

Though it was a beautiful ride,

it took us an hour and a half to reach the coast and turn north, into a stiff headwind, and begin to make forward progress.  With the wind in our face, it was slow progress, but this new course offered us scenery we had not expected

and climbs we had not anticipated.

But as always seems to be the case, the climbs gave us nice vistas.At one point, ran into a couple of nice guys from Amsterdam,Emmanuel and Huig, that pointed us in the right direction.  Shortly before noon, the wind (still in our face) brought on a summer storm with thunder and lightening.

Out in the middle of grape vines with no place to hide, we prayed it would pass us without causing problems. Though we saw puddles from the storm, it passed and left us unscathed; it was the climbing that was killing us.  For three hours we battled ups and downs into the wind until we reached our destination.  We biked into the center of town and began to search for a hotel, only to find we’d passed (several miles back) the only ones available. Did some running of errands, shower, steak and baked potato and bed….after 53 miles, we were toast!  As a side note: though the prices in France are MUCH higher, the people have been overwhelming friendly 🙂

It poured last night and into the early morning, even heard rumbles of thunder, which we hoped would be done for before we checked out.  Though our tired cramping muscles did not want to leave the most comfortable bed we’ve had this whole trip, the rain had stopped so out we went.  We pulled out into very gray skies

and cool (not quite 70 degrees) temps, but the field of sunflowers warmed the morning.It did not take long for the wind to join us as we rolled through towns and vineyards and up and down hills.  Even with the dark skies and wind in our face, it was a lovely cool morning ride.At the top of one of our hills we caught a glimpse of the beautiful Cathedral Saint-Nazaire in Béziers.  But since we were only skirting the town, this is all we saw of it.We crossed this canal about a half dozen times and felt we were back in northern Europe, especially with the continuous threat of rain.  As a side, we’ve found the roads in France are narrow, not in the best shape and seldom have a shoulder and the people drive really fast, but they have been considerate.

The sun made an appearance as we enjoyed our picnic lunch and the sights along the canal in Agde.As we headed out of town, had a strange occurance, French people asked Us for directions!Of course, no one understood what the other was saying, but at least this time we knew where we were going.  We continued our beautiful ride through vineyardswith vines just beginning to bare fruitand the port town of Marseillan.A big Semper Fi to Le Marine Bar,where is this in Norfolk or Virginia Beach?The town of Mèze situated on the second largest lake in France, Étang de Thau, is very much like the last port town we rode through, quaint, quite and lots of boats.We enjoyed the wind from our terrace overlooking the lake as we rested from the tough ride.  As we strolled back to town, artisans were setting up for the evening to sell their creations.Luckily, the French have a much more reasonable time to open their restaurants.  By seven o’clock we were enjoying a huge bowl of seafood soup garnished with fresh cheese, a tomato and anchovy saladas well as an incredible plate of shellfish, raised just off the shores from where we were staying…..Outstandng.  Fat, happy and 50 miles under our (tight fitting) belts we headed to bed as the last night faded in the sky.