Friday 22 March

 Friday 22 March

           It's been an interesting two days since I last wrote. Wednesday we left Millau at 4:00 PM and had a great two hours of riding as it was a beautiful day and we both felt strong. The first five miles were all uphill but I didn't really mind that much. Then 22 miles of strong riding got us to a little village called le Caylav (On the map) at a little before six. Keith had to wait a while to make a phone call so we decided to go in this bar and have a beer in the meantime. We had the best time there! No one knew English really and of course, I only know a little French and Keith knows about 10 words. But we managed to communicate quite a lot. When I said I was from Tennessee they began mimicking country music. So, Keith made his call, we picked up some food, and we set off to find a place to camp. The pickings were pretty slim and we ended up camping next to a construction site, as everything else was privately owned and fenced in. The night was beautiful. The sunset was lots of pink and purple and it was a very starry night and it felt like summer. We went to sleep early (about 9) and slept well. We awoke the next morning to loud construction noises and strong gusts of wind and rain and fog which allowed about 20 meters of visibility. There was no way we could have ridden in these conditions unless we had a death wish. So guess what we did. We spent the entire day in the tent. It was cold and we had to listen to the construction activities all day (I don't think they ever saw us because the fog was so thick) and we were bored stiff. So we slept a lot. I read some and tried to sew but wasn't feeling extremely creative and so I stopped. Our dinner consisted of bread, avocado and olives, and dried spaghetti. Oh! And a Kiwi. We were dreaming alternately of home-cooked food and Taco Bell since Mexican food is not to be found in France. You can't even buy refried beans at the grocery store. Nor peanut butter. When night came on we weren't sleepy, of course, so we made a deck of cards and played cards until about 10:00 PM. This morning was calm, partly sunny, and cold but we knew we had to get out of there since we knew it was an easy 50-mile ride to the sea. We started on our way and were suffering greatly because it was all downhill and it was cold. I round a bend and see Keith talking to a man who invites us into his soon-to-be restaurant (in five days) for a cup of coffee. That was such a lifesaver! He knew very little English but was able to get across that he knows Portuguese as he spent two years in Brazil vagabonding and that he has been building his restaurant for 15 years. It was probably first his home and then he came up with the restaurant idea. He was very nice but I never even caught his name. We continued on our way and had a relatively easy 45-mile ride and are now in Montpelier, waiting for the tourist info office to reopen after their two-and-a-half-hour lunch break. It's so difficult to get accustomed to that tradition as a traveler it has often been inconvenient. But waiting around for things like tourist offices to open is when I get a lot of my writing in.

           After Montpelier, we plan to ride the 20 kilometers to Sete where we will actually get to see the Mediterranean Sea (be still my beating heart!) And where there is a youth hostel. Montpelier seems like a really neat city. They are very proud of their ancient classical architecture and a lot of things about the city show this classical influence classically influenced postmodern architecture, their art center entitled Maison d’Antigone, etc . . . I thought it was humorous when I saw something referring to Montpelier as the California of France. Why would they want to equate themselves with a place like California when Montpelier has a rich cultural past going back centuries and centuries? As for the bungee jumping, that's on hold until we go to the train station and find out how much a ticket from here to Amsterdam is. Keith is running low on funds.

Dimanche (Sunday) Mar 24

           At this point I'm amazed I'm in such good spirits I'll eventually get around to explaining why.

           Before I sat down to write this, I vowed that I was going to make a concerted effort to increase the storytelling quality of my writing. I write so much that I may as well make it interesting. Plus, I've always thought it would be neat to write a book, but anyone who had read a book of mine would have to be really bored because it's not that good. I wonder if the ability to write is innate (like musical ability) or if it is something that can be acquired. Since I don't really have an artistic outlet such as I'm used to (my sewing or painting) writing has taken its place. I found I mentally design what I want to say before I write it just as I mentally designed the things I make before I make them.

           Picking up where I left off on Friday afternoon, Keith and I rode west towards Sete. We had grandiose plans of dumping our bicycles at the youth hostel in Sete and then hitchhiking to Barcelona. By the way, we decided not to jump because Keith just can't afford it. I'm sure you guys are sorely disappointed, eh? Friday evening we came 12 kilometers short of Sete in what turned out to be a Grove of almond trees. We thought it would be great to gather a beaucoup of almonds, roast them in the fire, and thus have almonds to munch on for a couple of days. Well, we attempted to do so and ended up with charcoal almonds. Plan B was to gather more in the morning and try again with the next fire. That plan failed since the next morning we were eager to get to Sete. As is customary, the reception at the hostel in Sete closes at 10:00 AM and we wanted not to get locked out as we would have had to resort to continuing on to the next hostel in

Beziers or waiting until reception reopened at 5:00 PM. As it turns out we got to the hostel at about 10:30 but no problem as the people there were very accommodating. Our bikes were locked away and assured by a seemingly trustworthy guy. That they'd be safe. The hostel itself was magnificent. Perched atop a high hill, you must continue to ascend about 100 stairs to reach the hostel. The height affords a great view of Sete and of the Mediterranean. The hostel is clean and apparently a newly renovated home. Definitely the most inviting IYHF hostel I've seen. We took off in the direction of Beziers thumbs up and hopes high. During the first hour, we were unsuccessful in hitching a ride but successful in inadvertently obtaining a very large amount of fresh dates. We were perched in front of a bus stop (which afforded us shelter from the drizzle) and I guess we were looking pretty needy. That tends to happen after a couple of weeks of cycling/camping. Three guys stopped to wait at the bus stop accompanied by two crates of dates. We were operating within our own little respective worlds when one of the guys came over and wordlessly offered us one of the crates. of course, we accepted, how could we not? In response to our questioning glances and hesitation, he said simply monge (monge=eat) the rest of the day, that night, and the next morning, we managed to eat an unbelievable amount of dates. They were great! Hitchhiking, though, was not great, though. We did the same thing for two hours and I even made a sign on the back of the crate using my lipstick that said, “Breziers S.V.P” finally, we were picked up by a man who was going our way for 15 miles. We made a huge mistake and accepted his ride. Once in Agde, we continued hitching for a couple hours more (in the rain) to no avail. We went to the gare the train station at about dark, I hoping to catch a train to Barcelona and Keith back to Sete to get his bike. Barcelona was impossible till the next day so Keith kindly (as is wonderfully characteristic of him) decided to wait with me. Well, we were in for a long night. As we are both the survivalist type, we decided to tough it out in the train station overnight. It turned out to be a cold night cold enough to see our breath and we had no protection from the cold save the clothes we were wearing. At about 11:00 PM we got locked into the station, not to be unlocked until 6:00 AM. After a very short time, we realized we couldn't spend 7 hours shivering our already shivering buns off. I explored the station and discovered that there were two lockers about 30 inches deep 30 inches high and two feet wide. I was struck with the crazy idea that, out of desperation, we could inhabit them for the night. I tried sleeping on the benches and I woke soon after I first dozed off to find Keith nowhere in sight. He had taken my suggestion to heart and I found him crouched in one of the lockers so I crawled into the other and preceded to fall asleep and have a really crazy dream and awakened very soon. It was cold even in the locker so it was difficult to sleep. At about 3 Keith invited himself into my locker and we used each other for warmth. The next three hours were difficult, funny, cold, crazy, and uncomfortable. I thought to myself with a smile that for the past 2 1/2 weeks Keith and I have always slept within very close proximity of each other every night except three in a small tent, and the two hostel nights were also spent together. This night was no different. We ended up both riding the train back to Sete to pick up our bicycles. I didn't want to be obligated to return there to pick up mine. We continued on to Montpelier where we knew we could take trains to our respective destinations. It is now Sunday and we got to the station at 11:00 AM only to find that we can't buy our tickets until Monday at 8:00 AM since they are international rights. We spent the whole day riding around Montpelier in either the sun, drizzle, or the rain, looking for a cheap hotel. In a way, it's almost humorous as we have managed to get thoroughly drenched during the course of the day but neither of us seems to care. I think that is for a combination of reasons. One, we are both so tired of getting stressed out about things like the dampness and the cold that in a way we have become immune to it. Also, we are both absolutely physically depleted after having spent five hours crammed into a locker. And there is the comfort of the hotel room. Since we plan on grabbing a room (nothing but a one-star room. . . rock bottom) we know we have a bed and a (hopefully) hot shower waiting at the end of the day. Presently we are in a bar just down the road from the hotel where we have managed to squander an hour and a half until reception at the hotel opens at 5:30. The other customers in the bar have been friendly. In fact, it seems that the friendliest people of met in France have been at bars and I've only been to three. Everyone else is so amazingly uptight. I can't wait to leave France!

Monday 24 March

           We managed to find a clean-smelling room for 130 francs last night that even had its own shower! We shower so infrequently that when we do they are usually long. Mine was about 20 heavenly minutes. When I got out I ate dinner and fell asleep instantly. I don't even remember making a conscious effort to go to sleep. I think I practically passed out. That was about 7:00 and I slept until after 8 this morning. We went to the train station and I saw Keith off on his way to Utrecht. He's going on the TGV a train that goes 300 kilometers per hour. I think it only does it under special circumstances and if you pay a lot of money, so I think Keith's trip will be pretty normal.

           I have recently been getting the feeling that it's about time Keith and I split up. When you've been around the person constantly for two weeks it eventually becomes a little tiring. Little things that he does have been getting to me, things that he's been doing all along but suddenly are annoying. We parted about 30 minutes ago and already the loneliness is settling heavily around me. I have two hours to kill until the info booth at the train station reopens. I have been wanting to find a library for a few weeks now since I really enjoy time spent at libraries. So I located the Biblioteque Municipal on a map and went off in search of it. It required much backtracking and circling around the area and asking questions, but I eventually found it. And guess what? It's closed on Mondays. So I sat down to write since I can't think of anything else to do. That's when I realized that once again I'm alone. It's strange that I didn't appreciate the solitude for even a little while, especially immediately after having parted with the person I've been around so much recently. Maybe it's because Keith's presence around me never really did get oppressive since we got along so well. Or maybe it's just not a good day to be alone. It's another dreary rainy day in the city where I don't want to be. But I guess I won't be here long. There is a train for Barcelona leaving at around 4:00. If I take that one, though, I will arrive in Barcelona at 11:00 PM and will have to find a place to stay for the night. Or else spend another extremely lovely evening in the train station. If I take another, later train I'll have to change trains at the border of France/Spain so my five hours of sleep will be interrupted. Plus that would mean I'd have to spend even more time waiting around here in Montpelier.

           At the train station, I was asking about what kind of rail passes are available to me and the guy said he'll sell me an Inter-rail pass. This pass, costing less than $300, gives me unlimited one-month travel in Western Europe and Yugoslavia, and Hungary. My let's go guide says that to obtain this pass though you must have been a resident of a European country for at least six months. I mentioned this to him and he shook his head as if to say it's not an issue. I'm tempted to buy it but I don't want it to be confiscated by some regulation following train conductor who wants to ruin my trip to Europe. My other option is going to Marseille, where I can buy a Eurail pass which is more expensive but it's good for two months and includes many ferry rides and options such as a trip up the Rhine by boat. I think I'd rather do that, as I had plans to go to Aix-en-Provence anyway which is just up the road about 15 miles. So maybe I'll get a return trip ticket to Madrid via Barcelona and then ride from Montpelier to Aix. Then I will go see Andreas via Chamonix. Chamonix is where I might be able to go parasailing with this American now French expatriate whom the guy from Russia, Dima, told me about. Also, you can take one of those cable cars in the sky rides over Mont Blanc, one of, if not the highest points in Europe. During this ride, you can see the Matterhorn, and you crossover the border with Italy. I don't know for sure. I do a lot of thinking about my travel plans because I'm weary of being in France. I can't wait to get on my way and start traveling again.

Wednesday 26th March

           It's amazing what 2 days can do for a person. I took the 5 o'clock train to Barcelona and arrived at 10:00 PM. The 5 hours in between, though, were difficult for me. I took my bike on the train with me instead of checking it in as an extra piece of luggage as I was supposed to do. The conductor discovered it and informed me that it is not possible to take the bicycle on the train. I have learned that if I just act innocent and/or stupid I can get away with a great deal. So I said I didn't know what I was supposed to do and he ended up being really nice about it. He told me that at every stop I'd have to go and make sure the bike wasn't obstructing anyone's way trying to enter or exit the train. However, at the border, the conductor changed. A mean little Spanish guy got on and told me I'd have to get off the train and wait until the next one bound for Barcelona came by border control and I could check it in legitimately on that one period but for some strange reason right before the train took off he signaled me to the back of the train and told me to put it back there and I could leave it as long as I sat close to it. On the train, I met and befriended a guy from Switzerland a student in Geneva taking his spring break in Spain. His name is Andrea. Once in Barcelona the two of us went off in search of a hostel together. We found an IYHF hostel and checked in and went out to get a bite to eat. We each had a salad and a drink and the total price was 550 pesetas, around $5.30. And Barcelona is supposed to be cheap in comparison to the rest of Spain! I felt immediately that I'd like Barcelona. And Spain. The next morning Andrea and I set off first to get some money and 2nd to find Gaudi's stuff. All day I was in kind of a daze from knowing I was finally actually in Barcelona and I was about to actually see all the buildings I've been so anxious to see. At the Amex office, I purchased pesetas at a dollar to 103 pesetas, a good rate. The dollars gotten stronger since I've been here in Europe. Then we went to Casa Mila, Sagrada Familia Cathedral, and Casa Battlo. For some reason, I wasn't completely overwhelmed with the emotions when I saw these things. I had thought that I'd probably just be dumbfounded by them but it was really not the emotional experience I thought I'd be. I think part of it is the fact that seeing big sites gets really old really quickly. It's like a sensory overload or something. It makes me glad that I came to Europe for more than just the museums and the monuments and such. There's too much more to see than these things but so many of the travelers I've met are just taking the whirlwind tour of Europe. That's just not the way to do it, I think.

           Another reason I wasn't extremely enthused by seeing the buildings is that it was raining again. It rained so much the last four days I was in France and I thought I'd be getting away from it by going to Spain. So the rain was beginning to get to me. After the Goudi stuff, Andrea and I just wandered around the streets which both of us found fascinating. Once you get off the main streets, Barcelona is just a bunch of alleys with tons of cafes, bars, and little shops. It's very similar to France in its constitution but the people are so much nicer. In our wanderings, we found another private hostel which is much better than the one we'd stayed at the night before. The moment we walked in to look at it I knew I'd like it. They were playing good music and it attracted a more bohemian-type crowd. I've discovered that the IHYF hostels generally attract the Eurail bearing, hell-bent on seeing all of Europe in two months, trip paid for by parents type traveler, whereas the private hostels are more for the people who are just traveling on a more casual basis. So we returned to the other hostel to retrieve our things and my bike. I rode to the new hostel and Andrea walked. When we met up again he said he noticed that the Barber of Seville was playing in the Opera House just around the corner. On our way to the market, we decided to check on the price of tickets. Of course, they were expensive, but they also offered progressively cheaper tickets, all the way down to 405 ptas for those strong of limb who don't mind standing. So we couldn't pass up such an opportunity and we saw the opera for under $4! It was quite a linguistic experience. For the past four weeks, I've been trying my darndest to learn as much French as possible while in French. All of a sudden I'm in a different country where they speak a different language and suddenly I'm back to square one. In France, I've gotten to the point where I'd go up to almost anyone and ask directions or ask them whatever I was able to communicate in French. But now in Spain, I don't even know how to ask where the train station is. Or anything basic like that. So I'm at the opera listening to an opera in Italian and the subtitles are written in Spanish. Castilian Spanish, at that. I was able to translate a meager little bit of it and it was a huge mental strain but I greatly enjoyed it. It was a great feeling to be attending the opera in a fully decked-out Music Hall in Barcelona, and the music was wonderful.

           The opera was over at 12 and we returned to the hostel. I was exhausted from standing but wanted to do some writing before I went to sleep. I never got a chance to write because I met these two guys from northern Germany and a guy from Japan who were fascinating to talk to. I ended up staying up until 4:30. The funny thing is that there was still so much going on outside at the time of mourning. The hostel is situated to the side of the Plaza which is decorated with Gaudi's lamps and surrounded by cafes and restaurants. As in France, the cafes and such all have tables and chairs placed outside. So the entire Plaza pretty much is surrounded by people watchers. And at 4:30 things are still going strong. Nightlife lasts until about 7:00 AM in the summertime from what I understand. Another reason I think I'm really going to like Barcelona. Today I awoke at 10:30 to a sunny, warm day. Of course, I was instantly cheered up, as I was planning on waiting for a sunny day to go to Parc Guell, the park designed and decorated by Gaudi. It's like Dragon Park on a much much grander scale, with a tiled dragon and other tiled animals and tiled buildings everywhere and just generally a really neat, huge park. So I arranged to meet the two German guys there and set off on my bicycle. I'm so glad I have this bike. It affords me so much more freedom. If I didn't have it I would have had to have ridden the subway to get to the park, which is a form of torture for me on such a day as this. (Looking at the beginning of that last sentence I can understand why people have trouble learning English as a second language!) The park is wonderful, as I expected, and am sitting here people-watching and pigeon-watching and cat-watching. It's kind of strange but there seems to be about 10 cats that inhabit the park. They are quite bold in seeking out food and are very friendly so I like them. After this, I'm going to go to a place where they show artsy/cult films for only 200 pesetas. I've been wanting to see a movie for a long time since I haven't seen one since I left the states.

           I calculated the approximate distance Keith and I covered from Paris to Sete and, including city writing came up with about 1400 kilometers.

           I don't know how long I'll be in Barcelona, but since I don't have a serious book for Spain it won't be too much longer. Hosteling gets expensive. Next is Madrid and I'm going to take some side trips to El Escorial, Avila (maybe), Salamanca (definitely, because it's the site of the oldest university in Spain) and maybe Toledo. I was thinking of taking the plunge and riding down to Sevilla but I have been warned against it so if I don't meet someone to do it with me I won't. But if I do meet some other crazy soul I might.

           By the way, I was wondering if my bicycle would be covered under our homeowners' insurance since it cost over $500. Just in case the serial number is S 89142251. And you have the receipt from the credit card, I think. If not, I have a receipt too.

           Also could you please send me David Heizer’s Nashville address (it's on garden Dale, in case you have to look in the phone book). You can send it (and a letter!) to me in Munich.

           Today when I was riding around the city and roaming the park I was happier than I've been since I had such a great time with the Australians I met in Paris. I've been very lonely since I began traveling but I don't feel so much so now. I know I have friends at the hostel when I return there this evening. And meeting people who want me to come and visit them later on during my travels. It was great doing all the riding and camping out with Keith but for two weeks we met virtually no one. So it's nice to be back in a city where there are other people and beds and hot showers.

           I found that a good thing is happening. I have found that I think about and miss the comforts of home less and less the longer I stay away. At the beginning of the trip, I did a lot of that but now I think more about where I'll travel and finding neat places to ride my bike. As the weather gets warmer, too, traveling will be more enjoyable considering I'm such a wimp when it comes to cold weather.

           Another thing I wanted to mention is the cheap food. You can buy a kilogram of oranges (about five or six) for $0.40. and avocados are $0.60. I think I'm really going to like Spain!

Thursday 27 March

           I am now in Sitges, 40 kilometers down the coast from Barcelona. I made the decision to come here mainly because I didn't want to be in a big city for Easter weekend because it will be so crowded. The next stop covered on my train ticket is Madrid and I really didn't want to be there this weekend. So I decided to try Sitges, a touristy town with some caves (or so I heard) that I can live in for a few days. I was only in Barcelona 2 days but I was ready to get out of the big city. I will go back in a few days to take the train to Madrid.

           My trip has now taken a new turn. Now that I've seen Barcelona I've fulfilled one of the most important goals of my trip. I woke up this morning and I had the option of going anywhere. I just decided to come to Sitges after looking at the map and seeing that it would probably make a nice ride. It's such a great feeling to have such freedom.

Good Friday

           It's interesting that my emotions have been on such a rollercoaster ride since this trip started. I woke up this morning after having slept on the beach (I never looked for the caves) and couldn't decide whether to lounge around on the beach, go back to Barcelona, or continue riding South Down the coast. I pretty much made up my mind to go back to Barcelona but on the way decided to go the other way. I figured I'd ride to Valencia in three days and catch the train to Madrid. It was a beautiful day and I had a good day of strong riding. there were literally hundreds of cyclists on the roads today. Obviously, it's a really popular sport in Spain. I was happy to be on the road. Then I stopped for a nap in the afternoon. When I awoke it had turned cloudy and a little cool. When I started riding again I didn't feel quite so inspired and I was beginning to feel the pressure of not having a place to stay for the night. All of a sudden I became weary of the traffic and was not at all happy to be cycling alone in Spain. I was a little scared, too I have now stopped for the evening and found a place to pitch my tent. To be honest I've been feeling like there are a million places I'd rather be right now than where I am. I'm so lonely and just wish I could find a hostel for the night. It always seems I meet neat people at the hostels. The closest one though is a long day's ride from here. So that will be my light at the end of the tunnel for me tomorrow. It's not even dark yet and I'm going to go to sleep so as to get an early start in the morning.

Saturday

           Man, I was in a bad way last night! I have stopped for lunch and have covered about 55 kilometers so far. The hostel I'd like to stay in tonight is in Benicarlo, not far down the road. I have been greatly cheered by two realizations. The first was that since my train ticket is round trip, I can return to Barcelona. I've been kind of kicking myself for not going back to Barcelona as I had originally planned to do since I didn't even go to the Sagrada Familia or to the Modern Art Museum. But after I go to Madrid then I can return to Montpelier via Barcelona. I had planned on returning via Biarritz and Carcassonne but there's only one city where I can see what I really came to Spain to see and so I'm not giving up my chance to go back.

           The other realization was that I have the address of one of Scott's schoolmates in Madrid. Maren, I believe her name is. I've talked to her a few times and remember her as being really friendly so I'm planning on calling her. Hopefully, she'll offer to let me stay for a few days. That would be good for the budget as well As for my mental constitution. It's really difficult only seeing stranger spaces every day. And I wouldn't have to worry about finding a place to stay every night.

           I know it seems like it's been a rough time for me traveling. But I think it should be noted that never have I wished that I didn't come. I'm glad to be traveling and I'm excited when I think about what may happen to me in the next few months.

           By the way in case you're wondering, I really don't know when are we coming home. I can't imagine that I'd miss Sara’s big day, though. So if nothing is really keeping me here around that time, you'll be seeing my smiling face again!

           I'm mailing this from Barcelona on 4-4. Sorry it took so long in coming. Just to make sure, you're sending the card to Munich, right? (Andreas’) and the addresses in Sweden. Till next time-

Love

Julie