A tow truck?

And the journey continues. We are starting to think about the return trip slowly, but first we want to explore the natural park we are currently in.

We make a stop at a mirador and once again admire the indescribably beautiful views that the landscape here offers us. The Pyrenees mountains are basking in sunlight and there are red rocks surrounding us. We plan to take a break at Col, but the view is not as nice, so we prefer to go back to the viewpoint. Zappa turns off the car engine and takes out the key. We get back in, Zappa puts the key in the ignition and tries to start the engine. The engine turns, but doesn't start. He tries again, same result. Another try: nothing. What's going on? The battery is fully charged and the new solar cell is working perfectly. Another test, he keeps trying to start the engine, but it keeps rumbling and won't start!

Zappa starts investigating, checking the fuses and looking in the engine compartment. The question mark gets bigger and bigger. After about an hour, we come to the realization that we need help. We are at an altitude of 1500m somewhere in the middle of nowhere. As everywhere in Spain, the internet works perfectly here, luckily!

First, Zappa calls the Renault emergency service. The young man claims that our Kangoo doesn't exist, asks twice when and where it was bought, and whether it is even registered in Germany! Finally, he kindly gives us the contact information of the nearest Renault workshop and wishes us good luck. ¡Muchas gracias!

I search for a towing service, I won't quickly forget the Spanish word for it, grúa. I make a phone call in very broken Spanish and receive the confirmation from a very understanding young man that they will be with us in an hour. It seems that even the fact that we don't have additional insurance for towing and that I want to pay with a card doesn't scare him off. I also inquire at the workshop, but they refuse to help, they have a lot of work. However, the Renault workshop in Solsona agrees to take a look at the car first, otherwise we would have to wait until Monday, it's already Thursday noon.

We're in Spain and we've been skeptical from the start about the optimistic statement that we would be picked up in an hour. After two hours of waiting and still no tow truck in sight, I am starting to get nervous. After three hours, I have given up hope, but Zappa is optimistic: after all, he wants to make money.

It is unbelievable how much helpfulness is shown to us here. The summit is not as deserted as initially feared, and people are passing by here regularly. Fred, the Dutchman, leaves us his phone number in case we need anything, after offering to take us to the nearest town. An older couple gathers for mushroom picking and Señora offers to call the towing service again. She is upset that they just left us stranded up here. Unfortunately, it is already so late that no one answers the phone anymore, and we prepare ourselves for an overnight stay. The place is beautiful, a clear sky with millions of bright stars accompanies us through the evening, but unfortunately also the restlessness about what to do next.

Secretly, we both panic about how long our supplies will last. We still have 12 liters of water, worst case one of us has to go to the next village three kilometers away. We only have half a bottle of wine left, but we can do without it if necessary. But bread! Currently, we still have half a dry baguette from Andorra, which we are bravely rationing, but the end is in sight. There are still a few Maria biscuits somewhere. Have you ever noticed that this dry pastry, supposedly a butter cookie, only exists in Catholic countries? Zappa loves it. But we don't have to starve in the next few days, we have bulgur, pasta, and a few kilos of Ebro rice on board, provided we can get some water somewhere at some point. With these thoughts, we both fall asleep.

What does all this have to do with La Seu d'Urgell? You'll find out in the next story, I promise! 😁