We woke quite early and, after checking the bikes, started off towards Albacete. This turned out to be a busy, bustling market town - on market day! We were looking for a Pharmacist's shop for Henry. The wind noise from his crash helmet was driving him nuts and he wanted to try and get some wax ear plugs. How the hell he was going to explain that to a Spaniard, I don't know! Suddnely the 3 were 2. Bill was behind me but we'd lost Henry in the busy traffic. I rang him and he soon answered. We soon worked out we were in the same street some 250m apart and were soon waving at each other. Bill and I had found a parking space in the busy street but had attracted the attention of several Gypsies or, as Bill called them, greasy dagoes. We knew that if we left the bikes, then they would be picked clean in no time at all. So Bill stayed with the bikes and I walked back up the street to find Henry. He bought something to stick in his ears and we all re-grouped at the market and had a coffe before continuing on our way.
We were making good progress in the heat of the late morning when Henry disappeared from view. We retraced our steps and found him berating his dead bike at the side of the road, in the mid-day sun. What a strange problem. We had a spark, and fuel and compression. It even seemed to be happening at the right time. But each time Henry thought he’d fixed it, It would fizzle out again. I knew my priorities and went to buy some lunch. When I came back, Bill was stood with the biggest grin on his face. He had spotted a loose wire on the low tension side of Henry’s coil. Soon fixed and we found somewhere to go and sit to eat the bread, cheese, ham and fruit I’d bought.
WHO PUT THE "OO" IN TYPHOO?
On and on we went, in the general direction of Andorra. The scenery was getting better and better. Escarpments towered above us with rock stratifications painting crazy patterns on outcrops. I half expected to hear “neep neep” and see Road Runner flash by followed by Wylie B. Coyote dashing up the gorge. More wonderful Spanish tarmac and steady bends that go on and on.
STRATA
THE WAY AHEAD
OVERLOADED - MOI?
It was getting near to the time of day when we needed to find a site. We saw a signpost and turned left, as directed. The vista just got better and better. The road wound up a valley and through tunnels underneath a hilltop town.
VILLEL - HILL TOP TOWN
On the other side of the hill, we came across the only thing that could have been a camp site. We stopped and found someone who made it clear that there was no way that we could camp the night here. Even when I got my wallet out and started waving “Mucho Euros” at him.
We started back down the valley and had the idea to find somewhere off the road to pitch. We made our way up a track and found a field out of site of the road. The field had been used to grow straw which had been baled and had been left, scattered about in the field.
OFF THE BEATEN TRACK
We got some nosh underway and made decided that as there was no chance of rain, we might as well sleep “al fresco”. By the time Henry and me had made up our minds where to pitch, Bill was snoring for all he was worth. He had just laid down his bedroll and sleeping bag, laid on top and whamo! He was gone. We covered him up with everything we had, coats and a blanket.
STRAW BED - IKEA CATALOGUE PAGE 255
I looked at the ground and decided that, even with my bedroll, it looked a little stony. I dragged several of the straw bales together and made a bed. With my bedroll and sleeping bag on top, I was set fair. I’ve never seen so many stars since I hit my head on the garage door.
STATSISTICS - DAY 12
239 miles Valdepenas - Villel
2534 miles in total
Average 211 miles per day
STATSISTICS - DAY 12
239 miles Valdepenas - Villel
2534 miles in total
Average 211 miles per day
