3rd day in Salamanca

Sun. 10/02. Yesterday I forgot a few things. This wild mountain range is called Massif Central. I actually drove for over 12 hours yesterday, and thirdly, my starter is almost toast.

Last night, when I wanted to park in the Ibis Hotel again, it just wouldn't start. The starter turns in vain. It's certainly very exciting. So this morning at 5:30 a.m., I got in the car, said a prayer, and tried again. I made coffee in the car with the engine running and then headed towards Spain. Never turn off the engine again.

Now I know why France is so sparsely populated in rural areas, everyone lives in the big cities, and I think everyone lives in Bordeaux.

Killer rush hour traffic, five-lane roundabouts, maybe the GPS or maybe it was me who failed, even though I was the slowest of them all, I still got flashed for speeding.

A dreamy sunrise calmed my inner self, and I floated towards the coast in a sitting position. Signposts to the famous sand dunes of Palat tried to tempt me, but I remained steadfast, with only one goal in mind, when will I finally get a road beer! But the beer was gone.

Today was all about racking up kilometers, I'll check it out on the way back. Shortly before the Spanish border, the next mountain range, the Pyrenees, opened up in the background. Five tollbooths later, and tollbooths are always an experience, finally Spanish soil.

No more of these silly je t'aime, mon cheri dumb radio stations, now it's the same but in Spanish.

I told the GPS, no toll roads please. And it worked. Wonderful route through the Pyrenees, always two lanes, real cruising, everyone relaxed.

Due to a possible difficulty starting, I refueled with the engine running, or rather had it refueled, they still do that in Spain, at no extra charge.

After 5 hours of beautiful panoramic driving, always heading south, it starts to become flat and dry.

I decided to take a break when a small hill with a village appeared not far from the main road. When I was leaving, the truck driver, with whom I had been dueling for an hour, even waved goodbye wistfully. Deeply moved and with tears in my eyes, I drove all the way up and parked downhill, just in case I needed to roll and start in gear, but it started up obediently.

After over 9 hours of driving and a good 800 km today, I am now at a small campsite in front of Salamanca. By the way, I didn't see any windmills far and wide. And besides me, there are only 2 other people on the site.

There's a small supermarket and the obligatory village bar nearby. Small draft beer for 1.20. Almost like in the Tower.

Just now, Google also told me that Portugal has changed its entry requirements for the last 3 days. Amazing. Until now, anyone entering by car needed a confirmed test, etc. Not anymore. That saves a lot of hassle.

Now I'm sitting on the bus and keep sliding forward because the place is on a slope, and if the Rallafornia causes trouble tomorrow morning, I'll let it roll and do a motor start. The two other guests looked at me strangely, wondering how someone could park so stupidly.

Over 2000 km down and in a great mood, thanks in part to the village pub. Greetings from Ralla