Tremp - Igualada Day 7

When we arrived last night we were 116 miles from Barcelona. The Hotel is simple but pleasant. Three generations of family owners are to be seen lurking behind  reception. We square everything up. have a shower then off into the town. There is a large Central Avenue that runs through the Main Street. Either side is flanked by small Tapas houses Who appear to have their own little domains. The commander and I wandered down through the centre in peacock fashion looking for a Wi-Fi spot. We find one, sit down with a beer and The commander smashes a glass. He is cross with himself blaming the edge of the table. I wonder whether I should take the blame just to make him feel better about it. We wander-further down to eat and for the first time on this trip meet an English couple - an exceedingly interesting combination of solicitor and class A drugs counsellor. Returning to the original bar for the Wi-Fi we enjoy a coffee (sorry - Tea of course for the commander) then out of the blue we are lectured on Catalonian independence by the Barman. He rambles on about how unlucky the Scottish were in Alex Salmond style obsession. As we leave leave he rants 'remember Barcelona is Catalonian' We smile and nod offering the approval he was looking for although not really giving a shite. 

Today we leave the hotel and it looks like it's going to rain all day. We are both in pensive mood. ( sorry I have been told to edit this I was in pensive mood apparently the commander was as happy as the miserable bastard he usually is)  It's always difficult as the penultimate Day. You look forward to the ride for a long time it's as good as cracked,  and are both just looking forward to getting to destination end. We both encountered a weird phenomenon i'm glad we discussed it! We both feel as if there is nothing left in us. We are in granny gear and panting like Boar Pigs. In fact it was all illusion. After the days in the mountains The roads we perceived as flat were actually  5% climbs and worse the roads we perceived as downhill were flat! It was not good in the back of the head a Demon was telling me that 80 miles today would be a struggle. After some 12 miles we stop to discuss at the bottom of the Final Col - we address satty and the proof was there. We crack our final col de Camious a long pull to 1100 m. As we drop out again we were hoping that most of the climbing was done. In many ways ignorance is bliss because it wasn't. Chugging on to a town called Sort and looking behind us to see the pyrenees disappearing into the distance we stop for a coffee and chocolate ( this was a special occasion for the commander as he experienced his first white  hot chocolate) from there we push on believing the climbing the game is over -  but it's not.  it's endless. Pull after Pull and not much talking. On top of it we are also travelling through an area which I can only describe as pig shit Alley. Bordered by intensive pig units the stench is unbelievable and persistent flies in-your-face at every opportunity. Our plans to stop at Manressa are tharwted due to a no Velo rule again - we push on to a town called Igulada. We have some nice digs but it seems nothing else is open. I assume they are all at confession. It was a hard day today and we are both feeling knackered. Some 4700 feet of climbing over nearly 80 miles and an energy sapping wind sees us through to our refuge. We are now 36 miles from Barcelona and looking forward to meeting the girls tomorrow. They land in Barcelona at 10:30 and we meet at the Olympic stadium. Happy Days. 

Touch base tomorrow ( God willing)

los ciclistas x