Now That's What I Call Music Vol II

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Running Up That Hill

There are many ways of measuring how tough a ride is, one way is to consider the average number of feet of climb per mile.  By that measure today was our hardest...at nearly 100.  Some cheeky headwinds didn't add to the fun and it WAS a hard day.  The grand finale was a 5 mile climb to the hotel with a dusting of 17% on the hairpins.  We were quite glad when it was over!

Wild Thing

On my final climb I had a welcome pause while a wild boar crossed the road in front of me.

It's Good to be a Nun*

Our home for the night is a convent...not technically a Parador but very much the same deal.  

They have told us to put our bikes in our room....a surprise since I assumed they would have a place for all the Vespas I have heard about in the Catholic Church.

*From Sister Act The Musical...apparently

Felice Navidad

Something I have been meaning to mention.  It's a well known fact that the Spanish are quite laid back and, maybe, not as entirely work-focused as we Brits feel would be appropriate**.  This is evidenced by their novel approach to municipal Christmas lights.  In my home town, council workers come round in November and put up the street lights then pull them all down again in January.  In every Spanish village and town they just have to pop down to the town hall and throw the master switch, as the lights are left up all year.

**this is what used to be known as 'Lazy'but I am now obliged to avoid negative national stereotypes, no matter how well deserved.

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