I think I’m turning Pyrenees, I think I’m turning Pyrenees, I really think so…

We have said goodbye to Susan and the sun, beaches and grandma boobs that are San Sebastian. Tab has pulled up a seat in our little red beastie and I’ve put petal to the metal as we cruise past Pamplona (where they do running of the bulls) and head into the foot of the Pyrenees on the Spainish side. This is when two things happen that at time we choose to ignore; a faint grinding noise from the rear of the car and the road map. We got lost… several times, after driving 5-6 hours a distance we could have covered in 3 we decided pull out our Bible (Lonely Planet) and we picked a destination to stay the night. By this stage we are driving through some of the most beautiful mountain ranges on roads that no bus tour could take you on. We weave through rock arches & cravens; the further we drive the more we are thinking we have gone the wrong way again as it seems inconceivable there could be towns anywhere in this terrain. Just as we were contemplating what to do we see a sign… its our chosen destination, Anso. It was soo unreal, this town is small, the streets are no wider than our car and there homes/shops are built right on roads edge. Were all giggling with excitement as it is just too surreal, this town, every bit of it could be out of a movie or painting. Every single house was immaculate and had distinct character. It was just beautiful. After doing several laps of the town which took us all of 5 minutes we find the camp grounds and set up our tents. After an amazing 3 coarse dinner cooked by the camp site owner we crawled into our tents and slept soundly through the night. The next morning as we were walking into town melodic music started being piped through the streets, again this was surreal as there was no one around. In the town hall we discovered that in the woods surrounding the last of the pyreenian bears exist. This excited Tab and I so the 3 of us set out on a hike to explore. After an hour or two of trekking we didn’t spot any bears, in fact there was little wildlife. We saw a caterpillar which Juz ‘accidentally’ step on & what looked & smelt like the carcass of a wild boar (or farm yard pig). Being that it was 30+ deg we headed towards the river following it back into town, stopping for swims when the water was deep enough. It was the best. After our long walk we went back to the campsite, which was empty except for us and enjoyed some beers & home made burgers.

The next day we continued our journey though the Pyrenees, the country side & views are breath taking. We decided to drive until we had had enough and stop where ever looked nice…this was a town called Castejon De Sos, a small skiing village. Nothing too special spent the night strolling around, watching sheep and doing our favourite thing; eating & drinking.

Day 4 of our Pyrenean adventure we headed to Andorra, a small country on the border of France and Spain famous for cheap duty free shopping. It is such a strange country, very small, would take about 1 hr to drive through if the traffic wasn’t so bad. The capital Andorra La Vella, where we stayed is in a valley surrounded by rolling mountains, which sounds beautiful, but the city itself is filled with cranes and some pretty ugly architecture. We did some window shopping and spent the night watching Nacho Libre on the laptop - it is hilarious. The following morning we drove out of the city, though Andorra’s beautiful ski fields (would be an awesome place in winter) and across the border into the France. At this stage that grinding noise at the rear of the car had started to get a little louder, Tab likened the noise to the sound the pod racers make in Star Wars. We were all starting to get a little worried as we were still in the Pyrenees & the towns are few & far. Our plans for that day rapidly changed from making it to the beaches on the south of France to just making it to the next town. Our little car didn’t really want to comply with our new plan & within a ten minute window the grinding noise had become a god awful sound and we had noticed the rear passenger wheel was wobbling slightly so we had to pull over. Unfortunately, it happened to be in the middle of nowhere in the French Pyrenees. None of us had credit on our mobile phones so we had to resort to an SOS speaker box, with the guy on the receiving side not understanding a word we said and vice versa. Actually the only thing he could say in English was ‘hello’ and ‘I do not understand’. It was pouring down with rain, neither of as knew what to do so we just waited. After a painstaking 5 hours and many calls too the SOS team, a tow truck arrived. There was only enough room for one of us in the truck, so Justyne and I had to ride in our car on the back of the truck! It was possibly one of the scariest moments of my life. We were sitting in the car on the back of a truck that was weaving its way around the narrow, hilly roads of the Pyrenees were one side was a cliff drop. Every time we turned a corner the truck would lean to one side & us in the car on the tray would be leaning a little further giving as a view over the side of the cliff with a chain the only thing securing us to the trucks tray & my foot firmly planted on the brakes (although it wouldn’t do any good), just try and imagine it. Just when we thought things couldn’t get any worse we see a Police car approaching, Tab looked back through the cab window at me & I’ve looked at Juz all us thinking the some thing; ‘this can’t be legal’. I hold my breath, thinking ‘shit!’… the police whizzes straight past. We would have stuck out like dogs balls so we guess it must have been legal here. By the time we arrived at the garage station it was 5pm on a Friday. Yep, they were closing for the weekend. Our patience was definitely running thin by now. Luckily, Tab was able to speak to them in Spainish and sweet talk them into just having a quick check of the car. They were able to find that the rear bearings were dead and they’d have to order the part in but said it would be fixed by Monday Afternoon. So we were stuck but atleast we knew for how long . We found a tiny camping spot on a farm in a small village of La Cabanassa. The owner of the farm was hilarious. He was an old grumpy French dude who we couldn’t understand a thing he said because a) he was French & b) he was also deaf, so communication was impossible. We spent the weekend, exploring the surrounding towns, eating chocolate croissants, watching almost the entire 2nd series of lost, reading and catching up on washing. It really wasn’t too bad. There was a cool village close by called Mt.Louis, which was all inside castle walls. You would think it was just an old castle driving past but when you get close it actually has an entire village inside. By Monday we had pack up our stuff & head to the garage, we were ready to move on, but unfortunately the part hadn’t arrived. That was it; I cracked & had hissy fit… we all just wanted to go. That night we all slept in the car, so we would be ready to go first thing in the morning. Luckily the part arrived and we were on the road again by 9.

After our little hiccup in our plans we were running very behind on schedule & were eager to get some driving in so unfortunately, we sped through most of the south east coast of France. We drove past Peripignan, Arles and Marseille, stopping briefly at each for a look around. Then we stopped for the night in the coastal town of La Ciotat, staying in a lovely camping ground, right on the beach. We left early the next morning stopping at an awesome market in La Londeless Maures, then continuing to St.Tropez. St.Tropez was exactly what I expected. Rich expensive houses, shops and strange people wearing hot pants in the street (well I didn’t really imagine that). Although I expected a nicer beach to swim in. Instead it is a massive docking town for thousands of very expensive boats. We did a tour on a boat to show us some of the estates. They are massive! Most of the places they showed us were owned by European stars and millionaires, mostly people we didn't know although they was one or to that Paris Hilton, Sly Stallone & Arnie had STAYED in… whatever. After this battling a massive traffic jam we drove via Cannes and Nice. Nice was very nice (he he). The beach was awesome, no sand just pebbles. We were dying for a swim, but it was pissing down rain so we continued on our way into Italy stopping just over the border in San Remo for our first of many Italian pizzas, hmmmmmm pizza.

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