Publicado por Miquel Silvestre en 14:47 |
We are in Madrid. 23.000 km, 100 days, 20 borders, six ferry boats, three pair of tyres, two oil filters, and eight seashores later, Little Fat and me are at home. But the question is what “home” means. When I woke up this morning I did not know where I was. This uncertainty was usual in the last months but this time took me more seconds to realise where I was. Strange fact.
I arrived yesterday from Lleida, where I slept the night before and got back my driver licence because I was riding with a fake one since the Ukranian policemen stole the good one. We reached Barcelona late at evening in a big ferry, which took 20 hours from Civitaveccia, a port near Roma, in the Lazio. We had spent two days crossing Italy by the most narrow secondary roads from Bari, in the South Adriatic Shore. We had rain and hot and the best food on Earth. I gained all the pounds lost in the trip. I am a happy little fat man now.
But yesterday I did a very crazy trip. I did not take the N II, the straightest way to Madrid from Barcelona. I headed Soria, a place in the middle of nowhere but with wonderful landscapes and lonely roads, and then Riaza to take the N I. It took me the whole day to arrive Madrid. I saw the Skyline at 8 pm. It was like I did not want to arrive. And you are right, I do not want going back to the traffic jams, the pollution and the angry people everywhere.
Writing these words in the morning I hear the noise outside. Is like the jungle. This is not that bad if one has the right attitude. I know after my trips that every day in any place is an adventure. It could be good or bad, but every day could be different. So the next adventure for all of us starts today, here and now. Enjoy yours. I will keep informed about mines.
All the best.