The 24 hour boat journey to Santander was thankfully smooth as all the food I had brought with me had to be consumed before I disembarked in Spain due to foot and mouth disease! Oh no, that 6 pack of Walkers Salt and Vinegar crisps I had bought as a treat for Dan! I had my bike tyres and cycling sandals disinfected as I passed into Spain, so "foot and mouth clean" I began the 450km journey to Madrid.

The first afternoon I sped along heading for a place which was labelled on my map and by road signs as "Puerto de Escoba". It must be a big place I thought, bound to have a guest house. It was only just before nightfall when I was 7km away I noticed a sign which said "Puerto de Escoba - open". Meaning that it was a mountain pass! The last town was 12km back (& all cyclists know that to retrace your steps is the worst!) so I decided to press on and half way up the pass there was a hotel! I was very happy as Dan has the tent with him. So I spent the evening as the only guest in the hotel, watching "Who wants to be a millionaire" in Spanish with the local padre, who was shouting out the answers in a very animated way, could be something to do with the number of whiskies he was drinking!!

The next day I passed over 3 puertos or peaks. I was accompanied for a section by a truck driver who had seen me cycling and had unloaded the touring bike that he keeps in the back of his truck to train with, between driving jobs. In his words "If this little girl can do it, so can I"
I spent the night in Burgos a beautiful town which is on the Catholic pilgrims route to Santiago. The next 2 days were through mostly agricultural countryside. Another cyclist rode with me for a bit but even with him breaking wind in front of me (cycling is the only sport where this is permissible I think) I still couldn't keep up, so he bid me Adios. Didn't see any shops on this section and was beginning to think I would have to survive on a diet of crisps and chocolate from a gas station when in one town I saw ladies with bags of fresh bread. I asked of one where the bakery was and she said "Right here". Sure enough, behind what looked like a normal front door was a shop. Maybe I'd cycled past many without realising!

I arrived in Segovia another beautiful, a typically Spanish town (from a Tourist point of view anyway). There is an aqueduct from year 200, magnificent cathedrals and a fairy castle! There were also lots of nice restaurants but the only trouble was they didn't start serving dinner until 9pm by which time all respectable touring cyclists are falling asleep!

The final day to Madrid involved crossing my highest mountain pass yet at 1511 metres. Unfortunately, the view was obscured by fog but it felt like a great achievement anyway. On arrival in Madrid I got completely lost and ended up cycling round a park. How pleasant you may think, but unfortunately it was the local red light district! Thankfully, no cars pulled to a stop beside me. Obviously I was not looking my best after the mountain pass. I found my way out of the maze to the center of old Madrid, proud that I'd made it from Santander!

Spain, France, Italy, Monaco
Reunited after six weeks, we enjoyed exploring the narrow streets and old buildings of Madrid before heading out on our bikes Valencia on the coast and up to the Pyrenees. Highlights of Spain were Paella in the hills with Dan's cousin and the old towns of Toledo and Morella.

After crossing the snowy Pyrenean pass into France, we descended into very different scenery, more lush and green than Spain. The high passes of Tour de France fame were still snow bound so we meandered through the beautiful foothills, buying locally made produce like cheese and honey directly from the farms. Everywhere we travelled in France, racing cyclists passed and yelled out a friendly "Bonjour". The scenery continued to be spectacular as we passed through the Massif Central and arrived at the high snowy peaks of the Alps. Keen to imitate the Tour de France cyclists, we cycled up the 21 curves of Alpe d'Huez to arrive at a fully operating ski resort. The weather was very cold in the Alps: twice we woke up to find our tent covered in snow, so we headed south to Nice. We had breakfast of Caffe Latte and Gelato in Italy and lunch overlooking the yachts in Monaco before we were asked to "move along" by a Monaco policeman.

We had the great opportunity to attend an Anglo-French wedding in Toulouse. Dan's friend James and Beatrice had gone to great efforts to combine the customs of both countries including having the traditional iced English cake and the French pile of profriteroles. Our final stop in France was in Nantes to visit Dan's cousin then with baguette strapped to the back of Jules bike and the panniers laden down with Boules and bottles of wine we caught the ferry from St. Malo. Home at last!