Not much in the way of excitements today - just another 63 miles in blistering heat after another foodless 24 hours. In fact the only food we have had is the lime that they serve in the beer (at least we won't get scurvy). Now we are in Les Bourges just south of Lerida.
Martin has now develloped the habit of dropping his water bottles all over the highway. The last time I ran over one and nearly crashed. Then he dropped one down the hotel steps which raised a tut from el propietario.
Life on the hard shoulder has calmed down too - no more flippers just an assortment of gloves, the mangled carcass of a once proud fox, a dead egret and a hundred million locusts that crunched musically under our wheels.
We had problems with motorways again today. Martin says it is because my map was printed when Franco was alive.
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