DEAR DIARY, DAY NINE…

Dear Diary,

I’ve been dreading today, not because we are leaving Séte (although that stings) or because of where we are headed (San Sebastián is amazing apparently), but because today is the second-longest drive of the whole trip, 6 and a half hours.

We set off early with Lisa taking over at the wheel and snaked our way through the old town trying to get to the motorway heading west. Immediately, we hit a problem: all three cars went different ways in search of fuel. Sake. Eventually we all met up, and the world made sense again.

We then hit the French motorway network, at rush hour. I praised the French drivers a few days ago; I need to differentiate: North = sound. South = beauts. This was confirmed when a lane closed, and we all started merging into the inside lane, or rather we tried; two of the snail-eating meffs wouldn’t budge, and we almost crashed into the cones, then their cars.

Lisa lent on the horn, I gesticulated with my best longbowman salute (look it up), and we eventually got in. Then the pair of cowards sped off before I could drag them out of their cars and go all Battle of Agincourt on their asses (look it up). The air con has stopped working in our car, and it was over 100* at times today - I think the heat is getting to me.

Another thing that has broken on the car is the passenger side wing mirror. We shut the door earlier, and it fell out in slow motion, hanging by the control wires. The glue used to stick the mirror to the plastic adapter that attaches to the car had melted in the heat!

The service station had a pitiful selection for me to work with, but I did spot some glue hidden at the back. Cue the A-Team music, watch me go! Mirror fully removed, old glue peeled, I got busy with the new adhesive and then stood there for 5 minutes pressing it on desperately hoping it would stick. To my surprise, it did! I love it when a plan comes together…

We dashed to Lourdes, a place the others were really looking forward to visiting, but I’m not really religious, so I wasn’t really bothered. Richie asked what I thought of the place. I said it is a bit like Blackpool with God. Loads of tourist shops selling plastic bottles of Our Lady and printed coins and tea towels and on and on. Don’t get me wrong, the cathedral and grounds are spectacular; the Kiss Me Quick hat merchants just let it down.

A quick check that the mirror was still in place, and it was on to the final leg of the day to San Sebastián. A long blast down the motorway in the scorching heat with just a trickle of rain, watching the lightning in the distance. The fuel light came on; I ignored it and pressed on to the point that we coasted past Real Sociedad’s ground with less than 20 miles left in the tank.

We got to the apartment after wrangling with a parking meter in a challenge worthy of the Crystal Maze, showered and changed, and headed out for a cerveza and some pintxos (local tapas that come on little skewers, delicious).

After 9 hours on the road/stopping for running repairs/visiting God and his gift shop, and hitting the 1900-mile mark, we all needed to decompress and relax, and so far San Sebastián looks the ideal place to do it.

Yours,

Rob