I got to Olinda OK. It's a small service town next to Recife which is a massive sprawling urban mess. They even have a metro but it runs overground. Olinda is quite bohemian and reminds me a lot of Melville and Yeoville in Jo'burg. There's a lot of good artwork available. You can also imagine a load of South American "carnies" running around.

I spent the day wondering around looking at the sights. Also wondered into a favella by mistake. There is a lighthouse set back against a hill and I wanted to see the view from there. It wasn't worth the slog up the hill but the looks I got were a story in themselves.



At the end of the day I was keen an a swim to cool down, but the sign bellow put me off:

Today I went to a place called Riacho Doce. This means sweet river. There was nothing sweet about this place. A smelly dirty small local fishing village. I went to go check out a hostel Niall and I had decided to stay at. When I got to the tourist info in Maceio they told me it costs between R$ 50 - 100 per night. They weren't wrong. Its a bit rich for my blood so I decided I'm not gonna stay there.

I spent about 30 minutes in that town and made tracks back to Maceio where I spent the remainder of the day sitting in the sun working on my tan. I did notice that the girls here aren't as fit as I first thought they would be. I'll report more on that in other towns.



Below is a video on the traffic light system. You cant see much but I hope it makes sence.

Maceio is great. What a difference it makes to Salvador. Its a lot calmer, cleaner and the people are 100 times more friendly. The guys at the hostel I´m staying at all joke with me because I cant speak Portuguese. They cant believe I´ve come all the way from Africa to see Brazil and cant speak any of their language. But I have gotten by quite fine. Maybe a lack of company to chat to over the past 2 days but I´ll survive.

I went on a tour at the Historical and Folk Lore Museum. It was just me and a middle aged milf as my guide. She too was bemused that I couldn´t speak any Portugase. None the less she still insisted I take the tour with her even though I didn´t understand a word. All credit to her she did try and teach me some of the language. Not sure how good a student I was but I must have impressed her some how. I landed up having ´cafe´ and ´busketa´ with her and all her amiga´s in the staff kitchen. We went through a list of everyday words and I´d give them the English equivalent. I cant understand why they laughed so much because most of the words were fairly similar to each other. I must admit, if they gave a word I didn´t understand I´d make one up for the English equivalent and blag my way through.

From the Museum I made my way to the Cathedral. It was closed so was stumped for ideas when all of a sudden I could hear the sounds of protest. "Not again!" I thought (I had to hi tale from a protest in Salvador when I tried to get an Entry/Exit card - another story. That was in the doc area so thought it not a good place to get caught. Plus they were all wearing read t-shirts. These guys were in white - assuming that's a lot safer). Apparently the student medical doctors to the local public hospital were protesting about something. Not sure what but I got a flier which I´ve included below (can anyone that reads Portuguese interpret for me please?).





I followed the parade for a while then got bored of it once I realised there was not much chance of any danger or violance (the sadistic side in me after being in Salvador for to long). I thought I´d wonder through the streets and see what they offered me. I found an open air shopping mall. It was great. Instead of being begged from I was offered a credit card (from citibank) even though I am not a Brazilian citizen. On hind sight I should have taken the offer. From there I found some magical buildings that must be several hundred years old, took a nap in a church (back to the good old days, just like Europe!) and got told off for not being careful about the non-existent dangerous and violent street kids. The guy had obviously never been to Salvador.

That afternoon I crossed to the other side of town. A stark difference. This is obviously where all the money is. There´s about a 8 km stretch of coasline being developed with high rise appartments. The beaches are good but polluted in the way of to much litter.

Salvador was not a good place. Niall, had met this local guy, Marcel, who has a lot of dealings in the tourism industry in Salvador. He explained how the street kids were all hooked on crack cocaine - which is obviously what made them such pests. They would go to any lengths to get money to organise their fix. I must admit I was conned out of a few Reals myself.

Niall and I were wondering the network of squares in Salvador. This kid approaches us and introduces himself as Junior (later he calls himself Mike so I don't think he really knows who he is). In his introduction he asks us in turn what our names are. When he gets to me there´s a big handshake and as big a smile on his face to go with it. Then only do I realise there is a small package in my hand. "Presensh. Quick put it in your pocket!" I duly obliged. You can see where this is going... Junior then gets to work on his magic (he´s had plenty practice). He goes from its a ´presensh´, to how much it costs (R$5/g), to how hungry he is, to how I owe him a ´presench´, to me getting very angry after buying him a hot dog and him demanding his ´presensh´ back unless I pay for it. It didn´t help that I threatened to call the cops. I think they would have taken his side. So he got his ´presench´ back. A good thing, it was probably only rat droppings!

That was a lessen to me. Never talk to street kids unless you saying "No obrigado" and thinking F-off. There were plenty more unrelenting beggars of varying talent, age and gender (some were ´trannies´).

I did see some good things in Salvador. The area I was staying in is called Pelourhino. This is the historic center and has a very ugly history. I gather most historic towns had a similar area dedicated to where slaves were beaten or hung. Areas of mass cruelty. Today its the center of all tourism in Salvador. The architecture must be the same as it looked 200 years ago. The pic below is taken from the square where all the beatings took place.



Tuesday nights were also quite festive. The streets come alive with a mini festival: beers, drums, bums, beggars, meet on a stick, cheese on a stick, beers, music, beggars, caiparhina (sp?), beers, music and bums.



When you start recognising all the beggars and actually cross the street to avoid them you know its time to leave.

This place is crazy. You cant go ten paces without someone offering you a good deal on drugs, a prostitute or random shit you´ll never use in a 1000 years. It´s time to go.

There are a few weird things I´ve noticed. An odd one is there cars. Xhibit can never compete with the wheels that have been pimped in this town. The bigger the mega blaster the better. I´ve seen cars with sound systems mounted that will put the Popes PA system in the Vatican to shame. Boom boxes of note.

A word of advice to anyone that does travel to this dump. Make sure you catch the bus in the right direction. You might just land up in a slum!

Landed in Salvador last night. The flight was uneventful but I did meet two guys who are old hands at travelling South America (Tinny and Prikesh). They were very generous with their advice and gave me some good tips and general advice.

I got up early this morning and was surprised to find breakfast was included in my hostel fee. Love the free stuff! I then spent the day crossing the bay on a ferry, cycling, drinking beer, sampling the local cuisine and generally getting sun burnt with an Irish guy named Nigel. Not bad for a first day I think!

Don't think I´ll hang around here for long. It is a tad boring and I´m keen to find an anaconda to tackle.

The idea was to post videos and pictures but that will have to wait until I find an inet cafe ´high tech´ enough to plug my camera in. So you´ll have to grin and bear the waffle.

Florence

Sienna

I really enjoyed my time at here. I met Courtney here. The busabout accomodation was break the bank expensive and I'd booked myself in there. Courtney on the otherhand had done some research and found a hostel for less than half the price... a steal realy. So I spent one night in each place. That kinda balanced the whole thing out.

We didn't spend much time together here but landed up travelling with each other for about three weeks. I enjoyed her company and was always worth having around. She is the cool unseamingly organised type who people like me can realy on. Plus she was a good laugh.


I went and watched a falconry show below the old town. Its a bit different when you're the only foreigner in a crowd of Italians. Especialy if you get your own comentry in English... all be it the shortend vesion. I didn't get any of the jokes! But besides getting jist of the comentry the show was very good.



There was also a Museum of Torture that I had a look in on. I'd never been to a museum like this before and got quite excited. I thought it would be great to see some of the instuments used in the middle ages. You know: the classic streacking rack, a cat-o-nine-tails, some pre-historic looking sergical utensils etc.

It wasn't great. Infact it was horrible. You could have gone through the entire museum not flinching... if you don't read the comentry. I did. They explained exactly how the instument worked, right down to the pain the poor haples victem felt. Often emphasising how the victems were a 'victem' of injustic and often be the case of superstition (witches and such). What got to me the most is they would give cases of where the particular torture instument is used in modern age. Africa was the most reported. The whole experieve put me off going to another museum like that. To think that we've been doing that sort of thing to ourselves for cunturies.

I also went to the Sienna Duomo. This is the most impressive Cathedral/Church/religious sight I'd been to on my entire trip. The structure is impressive and the interior art work the best I've seen anywhere.

I also decided to shave my beard off my last night here. This is a final view before it got the chop... 3 months growth, no shaving at all! You may wonder why it was taken off? I could take the bewildered stares, quizical looks and often rude leers. But the kids. I felt sorry for them. I kept scaring them. I don't know why, but that morning I brought a tear to a little boys eye!

Pompeii and the Amalfi Coast

Pompeii was amasing. I spent five and a half hours walking the streets of Pompeii. I took so many pics my camera died (most of them were so bad I had to delete them from my memory card. I have a policy not to delete anything... they were bad!). The only thing I regret is not doing a guided tour. I bought a guide book but its not the same as having someone talk you through the sights. Those Romans were a pornographic lot.




The Amalfi Coast was very relaxing. I stayed in a village over from Amalfi called Atrani. This is one of the places that I bumped into Tara. The drive from Salerno was very beautiful. I would say it is more scenic than Chapmans Peak Drive in Cape Town. It's certainly more dangerous regarding the crazy Italian drivers. I spent the entire day I had there relaxing on the beach.

Rome

This is a crazy city. I saw and was told the most outrageous stories. You would think you were in Africa with the amount of begging, thievery and pressing crowds. Again over touristed, expensive, rushed and rude.

I only had one full day in Rome so rushed from sight to sight. I was supposed to do an ancient Rome guided walk but I lost my ticket (note it was not stolen or pick-pocketed... my bad). I was so pissed it took me a while to cool down.


When at the Trevi Fountain I was sitting next to an Aussie couple chatting about the current state of each of our nations rugby teams (I have no idea what state the Springboks are in, I just watch the game, so a lot of blagging) when a huge group of tourists stood up. Luckily I had my camera out and got a 1 in a 1'000'000 shot... no tourists in sight (except the half face of the girl in the corner).


Other sights: Pantheon, Spanish Steps, Vatican City, Sistine Chapel and a whole lot more I can't remember the names of. Unfortunately my camera died when I got the the Vatican so have no pics of it.

Venice

Venice is not what I thought it would be. It is over touristed, expensive and not much to do but walk over a million bridges and down narrow alleyways. Not as romantic as I thought it would be. Thank goodness for the people I met there: Lisa, Kristian and Ashley and Mark . There were a lot more people but can't remember their names.



My first day in Venice I learnt the art of sleeping in churches. I would walk for about 20 minutes, get tired, find a church and catch a few zeds inside. This saw me through the day. Also ate about five gelati. They were excellent and this is from someone who doesn't like sweets.



The second day I just chilled at the pool, worked on my tan and had a massive water fight with Lisa, Kristian, Ashley and Mark. That evening we all went off into Venice for a nice romantic meal. We couldn't find a place that we liked so we filled up on pizza slices (they are an economical meal).

On the way home Lisa and I had a romantic kiss on the Ponte di Rialto. The next day I left for Rome.

St Johan in Triol (Austria)

This place is much like Interlaken but on a smaller scale. I didn't do much here. Walking around town, chatting with Bob (an 80 year old Canadian on Busabout. I take my hat off to him!), afternoon beers with Debbie and Marty and karaoke with the Top Deck group. The evenings wouldn't be complete without a whole night of Bob's snoring.

I award Bob first place for being the worst snorer I had in four months in Europe. He gets points for sounding as if he were drowning.

Bob, Miles and I had to share a room together in a pension. The hostel had been booked up by Top Deck. As the three of us enter the room, with the proprietor and a person from the hostel, we notice there are only two bed, a single and a double. The proprietor tried to explain in broken German that the double is in fact two singles. It just so happens that they are both in the same bed frame. Yeah right!

Miles makes a b-line for the single and tries to claim it for himself. Bob summarily kicked him off, much to my relief. I don't mind sharing but I think an 80 year old man needs his space. Especially this one.

The night life wasn't to bad. The hostel was attached to an Aussie bar so there was a bit of liveliness. I can't remember her name (I wonder why?) or her mom's but this Aussie girl I met up with was a damn good singer. The two of them were a good laugh.

Munich - Round One

Busabout sells tickets to some activities available in the destination we are headed for. On this day the main item being promoted was the Munich Beer Crawl. I thought I didn't have anything better to do that evening so, what the heck, might aswell go do some beer tasting.

I had sometime to kill so went up to my room and just relaxed a little. There I met Brad and Chantalle. A really great couple from the States. Both were teachers at a College in the States. Brad had finished working as a summer camp coordinator. Chantalle had come to join him for a few weeks before they went back to work. I saw a few pics of the two of them at La Tomatina. It looks as like they had a great time there. Jealous.



I invited Brad and Chantalle to come along with me to the Beer Crawl. They were willing participants. We met up with Sally (beer drinker of note) and a few other Kiwis and Aussies from Busabout. Sorry for not remembering their names but I know they will understand.

The Crawl goes as such:

• An hour of drink as much beer as you can. Including two Jagermister shots (vomit material)
• Off to the first beer garden - Hofbrau House (I think)
• Then to the Augustina Beer Garden (I think)
• Then to another beer garden (I think but not sure on this one)
• Then to a bar next door to the hostel we were staying in.

The evening started off really well. Isac our American tour guide was excellent. He is a brilliant entertainer and knows how to handle his drink (mix it with a little/lot of lemonade). His predecessor had to quit from corrossis of the liver. Isac soon laid down the basic rules:

• No vomiting
• No making a fool of yourself
• No stumbling while you walk
• There were a few others but I can't remember them. You get the jist.

The whole objective of the above rules is to win what the Aussies call a cuzi. A bit of material that looks like a wetsuit cut-up that you slip your beer into to keep cool. I say if you need one of those you obviously don't drink your beer fast enough!!! (My true belief in the rules is that it keeps the clients in line and gives them something to aim for besides getting rat arsed pissed... very clever, smart in fact)

Here is a short video from the tour:

The last thing I can remember from the evening is being on a tram to the Augustina Beer House. Apparently we had a good time there and eventually landed up at the bar close to the hostel. I believe I was in the running to win the cuzi, until I got caught having a cheeky vomit in the men's (I refer you to the rules above). I felt bad the next day for loosing the cuzi as Brad and Chantalle had backed me as a sure winner.

I think because I lost the cuzi, it was late and I realised I had drunk enough beer I headed home. At about 6am some Canadian girls shakes me awake and tells me to get out of bed. I had never done that before and jumped straight out of bed in fright. The Canadian tells me I was in someone some English girls bed (who had obviously just come home). I apologise and start looking for my bed.

The Canadian girl looks at me and asks what am I doing... this isn't my room. Hungover and tired this is a bit of a shock to me. More so when I realise she's telling the truth.

I'm standing there in my shorts, no camera, wallet, mobile or room key! I start rummaging for my stuff when I'm told quit emphatically to get out. I ask what room number this is, still not wholly believing this isn't my room. The Canadian tells me its room 312 and to get out. I'm in room 101. So I get kicked out.

When I get back to my room all my stuff was on my bed, neatly laid out waiting to go for a day of sightseeing.

The following night was a fairly quiet night. I had a few quiet beers with Brad and Chantalle as they were off early the next morning. My third night in Munich was much the same as the first. I met up with a two Scotts and and Irishman: Fiona Stephen and Gary. In true Irish and Scottish hospitality they got me absolutely wasted. We played some drinking games and after a lot of beer and whisky landed up in the bar.

This is the night I first met Lucy. Because Gary and I had lost the most at the drinking game we had the most to drink. Then some smart arse comes up with the idea if we kiss a girl that will take ten drinks off our total required. Thus the more girls kissed the more drinks come off. You can imagine the score was ridiculously high. I aimed for the prettiest girl in the bar, Lucy, got denied and went for her mate. Score. I went to bed soon after that.

Sorry Lucy... I did remember that night, but a long while after we became friends.

Lucern

After a night in Paris and one night at Rogers in Interlaken I was off again. This time to a Swiss town called Lucern. I thoroughly loved Lucern. After all the partying in San Sab and being on the road for two straight nights a laid back town with not much to do was all I need.

The afternoon I arrived I walked the entire town flat. There is a large pedestrianised zone with some great shops (filled with expensive brand name clothing, Swiss Army Knives and other Swiss tourist paraphernalia). Also, a large section of the old town wall with a part of the rampart you can walk along.

For me being there was a dream come true (one of those things you promise yourself when you're a kid you'll do before the day you die). I can remember watching the old SABC 5pm news reporting on how the Chapel Bridge had almost been completely destroyed by an arson attack, including many medieval paintings. I promised myself I'd see the Bridge before any other damage came to it. Dream come true: tick!

There were a few other surprises the town had install for me. A second bridge similar the the Chapel Bridge, shorter and a few years older, but with no damage to it besides ware and tare. The Spreuer Bridge has some very cool medieval paintings with death depicted in all of them. Some are quite comical.

The Glacier Garden is a treasure trove in itself. There is the 'glacial garden' (bedrock with some potholes and grooves where the glacier slid), the Glacier Museum, an old Swiss house and my favorite the Hall of Mirrors. This was a display for the 1896 Swiss national exhibition.

Along side the Glacier Garden is my favourite monument in all of Europe! The Lion Monument is a dedication to the Swiss Militia who fort for the French Royalty during the French Revolution. I spent many hours sitting in the sun gazing at this sculpture. I even fell asleep looking at it. A kind Korean couple woke me up and offered me some nuts (I think to keep me awake).



The Picasso Museum in Lucern is also one of my favourite museums in Europe (I clearly didn't go to that many museums). It is a series of photos taken in the last 17 years of Picasso's life with a few examples of his work. I found it very insightful to who the man was.

P A R T Why? Because I Gotta!



Welcome to San Sebastian! This is my favourite party place on the whole trip (I didn't get home before 6am every morning).

I arrived in the middle of some festival being held at San Sab. No accommodation booked, I thought I'd do an all nighter and catch the bus the following morning. Luckily, the hostel/tourist board (I'm not sure which one they were) found a bed for me in Kati's Pension. A wonderful old lady who miraculously converts her home into a sardine can during the summer months.

A few fact about San Sab Old Town: It has the most bars per square meter than any other place in the world. Kati's Pension opens onto the street with the most bars in it in the whole of Old Town. Organised!

I met some great people while in San Sab: Mark, Justine, Ange and a whole lot more people I can't remember their names (don't be surprised).

There was an international fireworks display on at the time. It was to last for seven nights and get better every night. I only saw the first three nights and was amazed at how much fire display you can put into 45 minutes. Definitely will do again!

Sorry for not blogging for so long. There just arent any internet cafes in Europe. This is the first one Ive found for a long time. I promise!

A funny story (this is a conversation I had with Harry on the inet):

declannh: went on a pub crawl in munich
12:50 had memmory loss but got home ok
some chick wakes me up and says im in her bed
lank confused i get up and ask what room i'm in
Matthew: lol
declannh: she says room 312
12:51 im in room 101
Matthew: lol
fuck, you must have been smashed
declannh: i start looking for all my kit... camera wallet etc but cant find anything
12:52 im only in my shots.. no shirt ni flip flops
eventualy get to my room
knock on the door and they let me in
everything was there on my bed.
12:53 who knows what i did?
Matthew: lucky

Return to Madrid

The road trip back to Madrid was a long one. I left Torla at about 1:30pm and got back to the hostel around 11:30pm. All the time switching from bus to bus, although this time getting back to Madrid was a lot easier than finding the Pyrenees. Most Spaniards have heard of and know where Madrid is.

As I was laying down to get some shut-eye I hear this woman start moaning (at this point let me describe the physical positioning of my room: it faces into a quad that goes from the ground floor to the eighth floor. I'm on about the fourth floor. Because of this long quad/vent thing you can't hear where the noise is coming from as is echoes up and down the vent!). At first I was quite taken aback. Then it starts getting louder. All sorts of moans and groans that just seem to be going on for an age. If I weren't so tired I might have enjoyed the voyeur element a bit more, but I just waited for them to get on with it.

And so I waited. This guy was a champ. If I knew who he was I would proclaim him my hero, he was making the most of his time. Her moaning just got more and more ecstatic, louder with more guttural groans, until... there was silence!

Thank goodness I thought to myself, but no. With real consideration and passion in her voice (with a slight American accent I have to add!) she askes "So, are you satisfied now?" .

"After all of that I hope he IS!!!" some guy blurts out. What a laugh I had after that.

The Pyrenees

As I had been partying a bit with Ben and co, the morning I was to leave for the Pyrenees I missed my bus and had to catch a later bus. This is where my Spanglish come into practice. I had to catch 5 buses to get to Bielas. I got there at about 9:30pm but enjoyed the trip.

From Bielsa I started my hike to Refugio de Ronatiza. I covered the 12 km in good time but was to late to tackle the first pass into the mountains. I made camp there and spent the day doing short walks. I then got back to my camp late afternoon only to be told I was not allowed to camp there because the site was reserved for a scout group. As much as I protested and told them I was also a scout they still kicked me off the site. They obviously didn't speak any Spanglish!

The next day was a bitch! I did a 1100m assent within 2km. That means its very very steep. The day before I spent some time chatting to the ground staff at the refugio (it was more like finger pointing, head shaking and shoulder shrugging with a few words thrown in with 'o' or 'a' attached to the end. No intellectual discourse). It was approved, after the girl gave me a good eyeballing, that I would be able to do the assent in 5 hours... it took me 8... with no breaks.

I finally made it to my camp at 4pm. This is after an 800m descent in 6km. Not much better than the up but very picturesque. I slept in a quaint little stone hut... for two nights. The massive ascent then descent killed me. I stayed put here. Didn't even do any short day walks. I have decided the National Park should be rebranded a national highway. I thought I would get some peace and quiet during my recovery time, but no way. A constant stream of people kept passing MY humble hut.




The forth day of hiking, fully recovered, was very pleasant. There were some technical sections but overall a pleasing walk. I left the stone hut late and arrived at Refugio de Goriz early. Great. Some more rest time.

That night I woke up with the worst stomach pains I've had in a long time. I went to the bathroom but no action. I also tried to force myself to vomit but that didn't work. I had planned to climb Monte Perdido the following morning. If the cramps lasted any longer all thought of doing so would disappear.

I climbed back into bed and woke up really late. 8:30am I got up and the camp was empty. Everyone had a two and half hour lead on me and I still wasn't keen. I had a quick breakfast and packed my camp by 9am. As I was leaving the refugio I thought: "Hey, you're here now and this is what you came to do. So get it over with!"

So I ran up to the peak and down again in 5 hours (brag time: advised minimum time is 8 hours). I was the last to leave and the first one back. What a champ!



I arrived back at the Refugio Gorith just after 2pm, had a quick lunch there and headed for Torla, a gateway town to the Pyrenees. The rest of the hike was uneventful. I spent the night in Torla and got back to Madrid the following evening fairly late.

I love Spain. What a great country this is! It kinda reminds me of home with the laid back approach to work and life... yet things do get done if at times frustratingly slow (like ordering at McDonald's). The people here are so open and friendly it doesn't matter if you don't speak their language. My Spanglish is coming along quite nicely now. I have narrowed down all the essential words as follows:
si - yes
no - no (quite convenient)
manyana - tomorrow
no problemo - no problem (can do or yes)
grazias (sp?) - thanks (the z is pronounced with as th)
and a whole lot of finger pointing on a map and head nodding or shaking
occasionally a shoulder shrug brings about a new approach from either party
it also helps to know place names!

There are three things I've noticed about Spain that need mentioning:
1. The hair cuts:

If aliens were to land and judge each country by their hair styles the Spanish would win the wacky award (by far).

For the guys to have a "business on top party at the back" sporting a mean mullet, side temples shaven and a piece of thread breaded in you are king. Or you could go for the simple once over with an obscure piece left uncut about 5cm long randomly selected about the back of your head... you still in the cool league.

For the girls anything goes from a no. zero all over to fancy colour effect to things breaded in. What gets me is the fringe cuts. Every girl you meet has a fringe. It does make them look cute.

2. The architecture:

I must say they know how to make a building look good. Driving up to any obscure town in the dessert the apartment blocks have a good look and feel to them. But not just the housing, all new buildings have a modern feel and look that I like.

3. Sculptures

The Spanish are not shy on expressing themselves with art. Everywhere you go there is a piece of art work. Driving along the highways I'm always delighted to see a great big hunk of something that can be construed as art in the middle of nowhere.

I'll put more pics up when I get the chance

"One Night in Madrid"

I met the coolest Finish people in my dorm room. Jo-jo and ST, brother and sister from Scandinavia, and Ben (an Aussie dude on his way to Liverpool) all up for a party 24/7. Within 5 minutes of walking in I had a drink in my hand (not a soft drink) and was on my way to a good night. Ben had been partying with them for a few nights (and a few more before that) so when he recovered we were all off to a club. Needles to say I only got to bed after the sun came up (well before the others).

Most of my day time in Madrid was trying to organise to get to the Pyrenees to do some hiking. I had misplaced the pamphlet Shonny had given me so it was a bit of a mission getting information. It seems most Spaniards didn't even know they had a mountain range bordering on France. But persevere I did and finally made it there.

Valencia

This is a great city. A bit on the small side and quiet. I think its a university town so not many people were around. There is some great modern architecture here too. The river that ran through the city flooded every so often so they diverted it with a canal and made a long winding park along the course of the river. At the bottom end where the new part of the city has gone up there are a few museums great just to look at (expensive to go in).

The Americas Cup is also being hosted from here so I went to go look at the South African team (Shoshaloza) base. Not much to comment on here. The boat wasn't in.