Updated from
http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/221.html
It's been two weeks now and I'm worried about Neda. She has been motionless on the couch for all this time, Kindle in hand, and if weren't for the regular tapping of the "forward" button, I'd have to check for vital signs. We are holed up back in the same apartment that we stayed in over
Christmas in Calella, just outside of Barcelona. There has been no movement, either by bike or by foot. The last few months of travel have knocked the winds from our sails and we are suffering from travel fatigue big-time.
Two weeks ago, the ferry spilled us onto the sunny port of Barcelona and we rode out into the glorious arms of Europe, and more importantly into the land of Español, where Neda could freely communicate again. I was more than happy to relinquish the reins. The plan was that we would stay somewhere familiar and recuperate, and then as the spring slowly thawed the north, we'd venture out and see if the snow had melted.
At least that *was* the plan. Normally Neda only needs a few days of rest before she gets ants in her pants and is raring to go. But it's been two weeks now and she's only left the apartment a couple of times only to shop for groceries. *THAT* was very unusual. Honestly, I didn't feel like pulling up the stakes either, but we had a team meeting and debated the pros and cons of staying or going. Even though we're still not feeling 100%, there seems to be this frustrating pointlessness to just sitting around and waiting for... what? The weather reports seem to be encouraging. How long will it take for us to feel ready to continue on? We have to acknowledge that our journey is now heavily influenced by four seasons instead of one.
Perhaps we needed to force ourselves out of this lethargy. Otherwise we'd be stuck in Spain in this comfortable little apartment watching the summer slip away.
Skirting east of the Pyrenees mountains, which would most certainly be snow-covered this time of year
It's a slow chore to pack our bikes and we wistfully waved goodbye to Calella in our mirrors for the second time. The warm, sunny microclimate of the Barcelona region had given us a false sense of weather in Europe as the grey clouds of south-west France greeted us at the border. I am acutely aware that I am now back on language duty again. Not much of a break...
![Frown :( :(](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)
and Neda won't be happy that she is incommunicado yet again.
We are both second-guessing the decision to leave Spain.
Perhaps the still-stark-naked vineyards of Southern France are trying to tell us something...
And so castles in the rain...
We didn't get to see Carcassonne last year because of the weather. So we headed up there. And it rained...