Cheers, the party is starting!

After six weeks, 6000km, and 23 days left, we are at a turning point in our journey. The Picos de Europa are covered in thick clouds today, so we are denied the view of the majestic peaks.

I have maneuvered us so well into the Cantabrian Mountains that continuing in any direction will only be possible through countless winding serpentine roads and will take many hours.

But how should the tour continue? In the next few days, rain and clouds are predicted along the Atlantic coast from east to west. Heading south towards the Spanish inland, sunshine and temperatures around 40°C are in prospect. So what to do?

The last trip to the sea fails miserably. We end up in Comillas, a truly enchanting town with an impressive palace, a villa designed by Gaudí, and the gigantic building of the former papal university. Outside the city gates, a cultivated giant sequoia forest.

We are just passing through, but the crowd is impressive. Bustling on the streets, in the alleys, and on the squares. Mobile phones are pulled out in the crowd, ice cream spills onto fancy children's clothing, souvenir shops are looted, waiters are stressed and rush through fully occupied tables, in between a few pilgrims in search of the right way.

The entrances to the sea are blocked, and overnight parking is prohibited in the beach car parks. It's not that we are afraid of crowded beaches or that we don't want to share the pitches with hundreds of other campers, but we are looking for a different kind of rest and relaxation. So we retreat to the mountains. However, not without first buying a new gas stove in Torrelavega at the "Hiergibtalles" square. Unlike in Italy two years ago -

https://vakantio.de/chateaugeschichten/ein-tag-im-regen

- this one has finally given up.

The rubber seal is broken and the needle no longer punctures the cartridge properly, so the gas escapes but does not enter the stove. Zappa also has the best spirit stove of all time on board, purchased at the flea market in Louhans, but we still need to get denatured alcohol for it.

Moreover, I don't trust this thing. The last drops of the flammable liquid must be poured into the stove when making morning coffee. An explosive mixture has formed in the empty alcohol bottle, which ignites after filling it next to the existing flame - and as Wilhelm Busch would say, "Cheers, the pipe starts!"
A deafening bang fills the silence, the green bottle flies like a missile out of Zappa's hand onto the gravel road, and the garbage bag is engulfed in flames.

Luckily, I haven't taken a seat at the breakfast table yet, otherwise I would have several burn holes in my clothes and cuddly blanket on this fresh morning. And I can quickly stamp out the fire with my good rubber Crocs. After all, the last fire safety training was not that long ago. But I would have liked to test the fire extinguisher in case of an emergency. In any case, I was quite scared. Zappa puts the coffee on the stove and looks innocent, and I sit down for a moment.
Since then, I somehow like the gas stove more.

But now back to the question of how the journey continues. We still have three weeks, and thoughts of the return trip are slowly creeping in. Every kilometer further west or south will have to be covered in the opposite direction.

After studying maps, satellite images, and weather forecasts for the next few days, we agree that peace, reflection, and contemplation should dominate. We head to the Ebro!