High speed

... through an empty part of Spain. No idea where this is, somewhere near Zaragoza maybe.

Our train from Málaga wasn't till 2:30, so we were able to make a leisurely start with breakfast on the seafront. The journey to the car hire drop-off at the station in Málaga was somewhat fraught. We'd figured out the onboard satnav by then, to the extent of switching off the ear-splitting screeches it emitted when approaching accident black spots or speed cameras. But it wasn't very clever about directing us around downtown Málaga, and we did at least two large loops before finding the car park entrance S had identified on Streetview. He bravely drove our tank down the extremely narrow ramp with the collision detection system screeching all the way.

We'd left plenty of time though, and thanks to my research we had a very good light lunch in the bar of the Barcelo hotel, which is actually in the station. Definitely several cuts above the average station buffet, and very quiet and calm, with just a short walk to the platform.

Then a tedious eight-hour train journey to Figueres, pausing for an hour in the horribly hectic Barcelona Sants. The taxi driver who'd taken us to the station in Figueres eight days ago told us there were "always" taxis at the station, even at 10:30 pm. We arrived to see the lone taxi cruising off with a passenger. There was a bus waiting though, and S rapidly established that the driver would drop us about 50 metres from the garage where we'd left the car. So we were on our way home by 11, very efficient. Home at 1 a.m., we crashed straight into bed.

Note: no sign of Mystère, who was predictably having a night on the tiles, but as I'm backblipping from the future I can report that he's now a happy bunny on my lap.