The killing of the jews - part 2

I could tell you about the nice dinner of assorted tapas last night, but you don't care, right?

You will remember some days ago, when we cycled thru the hamlet of Matajudaica ('The killing of the Jews'). There wasn't much there. It's the thought that counts.

It is now Saturday afternoon, around 5. We left Peratallada at 9 this morning.

We cycled north, along quiet roads to Gualta. It was cool and cloudy - Karen said it was going to rain on us. I hoped for the best, an annoying trait, under most conditions.

At Torroella de Montgri, we crossed a bridge over the river Ter, known to locals as 'The Bridge Over the River Ter', since it was built under Franco in 1940, using slave-labor supplied by defeated Republicans, back when Republicans were the good guys.

We got a little lost, following the complicated bike route thru the busy city, but eventually reached the outskirts and the countryside, when the rain hit.

Around Albons, we got drenched. Nothing to do but pedal on.

We reached the coast at L'Escala, and the rain clouds were already breaking up. By the time we got to the archeology museum at Empuries, the sun was shining and blue sky warmed our very damp clothes. About 25 km completed at this point.

We were getting tired.

We toured the extensive Greek and Roman ruins. This was the major settlement on the spanish coast, way back when (200 BC, to be more precise).

The museum had a lot of artifacts, some surprisingly obscene. Uphill in the Roman town, there were some interesting mosaics - the Rich really knew how to live (nothing new about that).

The public latrine sort of reminded me of Cycle Oregon, but that's another story.

By now it was well after noon, and we had many km to go, and energy was beginning to flag.

We cycled north along the coast, and, most fortunately, found a bustling restaurant in Sant Marti d'Empuries, across the square fom the old church, where a tumultuous wedding was taking place.

We needed that meal - we were only slightly more than half way.

We had a giant mound of steamed mussels, salads (mine with smoked salmon and Karen's, tempting the gods of Lactose Intolerance, with goat cheese). Also a beer, a coke, and two coffees - 35 euros.

Fortified, we resumed.

We biked along dirt roads thru a natural park, on and on under the hot sun, faithfully following the detailed turn-by-turn directions.

At Sant Pere Pescador, we crossed the river Fluvia, and began the final 12 km to Baseia.

Getting tired reading this? Just imagine living it.

The final couple of hours were mostly along uneven dirt roads, through farm-land, far from recognizable habitations. We did pass thru a couple of little towns, energy depleted and butts sore, and finally made the last turn for the final 1.1 km to Can Navata, our home for the next two days.

50 km today. We are beat, but were happy to see our bags waiting.

Karen hit the bed. I went immediately to the small swimming pool which, months ago, I had spied with Google Earth.

The water was cool, but I was ready for it. After a while, I got out and stretched out on a pool-side lounge-chair, where I have been laboriously tapping this out on my phone, while flies are crawling all over me, and I'm doing this All For You.

Dinner at 9 pm. Now, I must rest.