To Spain..
We’re up relatively early, skipping the hotel breakfast and opting to crack on. The weather has improved a bit. We pick up our now warm and dry gear and pack the bikes up.
Last night after dinner I’d done a bit of research as to if it would be possible to grab another GPS on our travels. Since we’d done a hundred or so extra miles last night then that gives us a little more time today to play around with, so maybe that’ll work.
Our first port of call is a small store in town who say ‘non’ to the ‘GPS pour le moto’, but the elderly lady is friendly and draws us a little map to Marmande - we should have better luck there.
So we breeze the 20km or so into Marmande to try our luck.
At one of the main junctions, a roundabout, traffic is badly backed up- the reason- well, it is occupied by 20 plus Gendarmes, bikes, vans, inspecting and stopping various folks. Whilst looking around for the stores (A motorcycle dealer called Motobox, , A L’auto E. Leclerlc, a place called Norauto.. and a Le Halfords, which is called ‘Roady’.. we’re directed around this roundabout various times going in all directions. I thought we’d get a tug as looking so strange and so conspicuous, but thankfully not, and in fact on our last navigation of the roundabout we got broad smiles and 'Bonjours..'
And after all that? Well, no moto GPS.. the closest we got was the dealer who’d sold the last one in stock that week.
So we decide to call it quits and carry on. Its not an essential,
We briskly buzz to the back roads, playing for another half an hour and then stopping for breakfast in a town where they have a fairground in the square.
A little bit previous for a Portuguese custard tart, but they looked nice, and were, sold to us by two smiley and really very pleasant young ladies in the patisserie. I couldn't help noticing how happy they both looked, and that you get a slightly different experience in my local Greggs..
Back on the road, and it’s pretty murky and as we head south towards the Pyrenees, and the murkiness gives way to rain.
It’s uneventful brisk sort of stuff. We hit the mountains, and opt for the Somport Tunnel to head down into Jaca, our destination tonight.
The bike is still stuttering and cutting out at points when coming to a halt as per yesterday, illustrated perfectly by the stalling into the petrol station at Jaca for a fill up. But everything is manageable, so we trudge on..!
It’s before six when we reach our hotel, the Hotel A Boira, where I’ve stayed once before. It’s a good place and the bikes are stored away in the garage under the hotel.
Interesting notice about Siesta
Last time I stayed in Jaca we’d been rained on too, and only got to head to a restaurant for dinner, so didn’t see much of the town. This time we’ve time for the Tapas trail, and I’m impressed with the town and glad to see it.
Drool..
We opt not to have dinner, and simply nibble at the Tapas places, which seems like the right thing to do. Super nibbles for buttons
Oh yes..
Wandering the Tapas Trail..
.. simply has to be done..
.. and Keeping well hydrated is essential when shuttling between venues:
.. a hint of Fred Flintstone about this Pork Scratching..
.. and to the street, again..
.. time to mooch in the shops. Bought a new buff (I burned my one on a lamp at the Logis hotel last night. Oops).
Some variety of beer available..
.. and finishing off with a good beer to finish, feeling ever so slightly pissed.
Another fine day