Ripoll to Barcelona...

Off again early… after stealing some cakes from the breakfast table and getting caught! Doh! The supermarkets are either not open early enough or hard to find in Spain. I think I like France better already! There’s quite a difference in the surrounding scenery, not to mention the colours the further south we go.

We stopped for coffee in Vic, which had a distinctly shitty smell about it. The main square was quite pretty but it really did smell of poo. We bought some bits for lunch on the way out of the town since we happened upon a baker and a butchers shop. It still amazes me how quickly the boys catch us up. They seem to power their way through the miles and we find ourselves chasing our tails most days. They pitch up, drink coffee and eat a cake in record time and then they’re off again. They may be tired and sore but they generally don’t show it. They have determination I’ve only ever seen in my Mum, who is on the mend and doing amazingly well given she’s just had a hip replacement. Dad is flying out tonight to let Ary have a few days in Barcelona and then fly home on Friday.

We had lunch in La Molina, at the side of the road on a downhill as the main town appeared to be up a huge hill that we didn’t think the boys would appreciate. Not the best lunch location but there was a bench and a place to park with a café over the road in case they wanted a hit before pushing on to Barcelona.

We left them mid-afternoon having coffee in Sant Felieu and we pushed on to Barcelona to meet their families who had come to cheer them on. Parking in Barcelona is impossible, especially for a car pulling a trailer. The apartments we had booked had parking below but the height restriction is a problem when there’s a roof box and a trailer so we drove around for about 40 minutes, trying to find where we were staying with the shit sat nav. Eventually we abandoned the car outside the apartments, removed the roof box, did the height test (me walking down the ramp into the car park with my hand above my head) to see if we were going to fit. The best plan was to get down there, park the trailer, unhitch, unpack, pack their luggage in the car to dump it at their apartment a mile and a half away who’s idea was that?! and race round to the Sagrada Familia to meet the families and welcome the boys to Barcelona. The church is amazing but appears to be still under construction. I think it's been being built for years. Given the detail in the outside of it, I'm not surprised. I met Miss42 who was there with Mrs42 to meet Mr42. We made it… just. Sweating and harassed but in time.

Ary drove nice car boss back to his place with all the bags while Campbell and his brood got a taxi back to theirs. It was lovely to meet his family. They have a spark about them that made me smile. I’m sure that Campbell’s humour runs right through his family and I liked them all immediately. Douglas Snrs family couldn’t make it so he came to our apartment with us. The apartment itself was lovely, with a puddle sized pool but a pool nonetheless. I had planned to go for a swim but the reality of the hot tub sized pool didn’t fill me with any desire to actually swim. I’m hoping that Morocco will have more sunshine and more warmth for swimming outside. On the plus side, it was equipped with a washing machine and a tumble drier which I used well! I now have a full bag of clean clothes and no skanky shorts to handwash! Total result. I have to admit to taking my washing machine for granted. I shall worship it more when I get home!

My Dad arrived safely and we went out for dinner. He forgot to bring my security blanket. Gutted doesn’t cover it but it was lovely to see him all the same. I may forgive him. :o)