Travel Diaries
Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things – air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.
Derwent Water
A bit of driving and a bit of walking on the flat. Oh, and some cake. Light relief after the previous day.
Driving Up
Driving the Porsches. Well, not me, obviously. I wouldn’t want to, and the boys won’t let me.
Pedralta
A bit of dentistry followed by a lot of geocaches and a long walk. What else are holidays for?
Monastic
Today was the planned day for a bit of monk-on-a-mountain action. I’d been here before, in 1973, but that was a long time ago.
Not the Full Gaudi
We were supposed to be going to Barcelona to see at some of Antoni Gaudí’s more obvious contributions.
Santa Cristina
Time for a bit of caching while the girls had a lazy day.
Olympic
A positively Olympian day involving mountains, castles, stadiums and thankfully few naked Greek blokes. Well, none, actually.
Girona
A pretty medieval city at the very top end of Catalonia. It’s so far north it’s nearly France.