Day 17 – Not the best start to the day we’ve ever had . . .

If our morning’s shinanigans had been tracked by some sky-borne on-looker, then they would have thought some crazy demented driver was on board Beastie.

As we leave this region, it seems inevitable that Catalonia will have it’s independence again someday. We haven’t come across any signs to the contrary. Wherever we’ve toured it’s clear the fight isn’t over yet.

For some time I have been promising myself that I must invest in some sort of cab-cam or head-cam. I’ve been putting it off though – on the basis that as we get better (so we think) at doing “this”, there will be fewer and fewer out of the ordinary situations cropping up to justify the cost.

However, this morning’s start to a fairly long jaunt of around 280K to the other side of Valencia proves me wrong, yet again. Driver and navigator with differing opinions as to the best time to be “snapping/recording” make for tenser on board dynamics.

A short shop at the local Mercadona, then an aborted attempt to fill up with diesel should put us back on the main coastal route. When Missy directs us away from the coast we ignore the ringing alarms bells. Occasionally, she’s known better and all’s been well. An odd OK shortcut here and there has gained our trust. So we obey. A seemingly discombobulated stream of instructions get worship-fully followed. The promise of rejoining the N-340 her carrot. We pass through a residential estate and then past a high school on the very edge of Altafulla. A parked MOHO on the right adds to our misguided confidence as we deem to go where no other MOHO has ever gone before. It gets hairy and narrow as Beastie tentatively trundles over the collapsed dry stone walls on either side. We are mad – in more ways than one.  I pull up and consult Google maps. It seems our cause is lost. We’re being directed in a loop! Some choice words of wisdom are directed towards this inane, or rather insane “Co-Pilot”. A little further on a broken chain on the left enables Beastie to cautiously contort and get us pointing back from whence we came. Then suddenly “thwack!”. The nearside mirror takes a hit from a low branch and is left dangling by it’s giblets. I want to wring someone’s neck, but no volunteers are forthcoming. Fortunately it snaps back into place with no real damage done and Beastie eventually edges back to safety.

you can follow our route from the High School by copying and pasting this link

https://www.google.co.uk/maps/@41.1478696,1.3767151,3a,60y,16.11h,90t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s3J8ayQ-M58KFYvg4oL8QPg!2e0!7i13312!8i6656