I would love to say that I’m happy and delighted to be back in Spain, but I’m not. After another two weeks delay getting over what the Germans and the French call the “Grippe” in Saint Jean Pied De Port I headed off this morning with the intention of staying in Zubiri. I had to post some things, the one person dealing with the huge queue in the post office took 45min to get to me, which meant it was nearly 12 when I actually left.

One wheel in Spain, one in France, just entering the clouds and last place I took a shot today.

Being in Saint Jean Pied De Port had lulled me into a false sense of security as the weather there is particularly mild, this and not having been on the bike for two weeks, just getting over the Grippe and crossing the Pyrenees are a mixture of circumstances that bring me to my current grumpy state, actually not making my destination and spending 50e on a cold, noisy, crappy room was the final straw.

The weather was thankfully not as cold as it could have been, there were a couple of places where snow was lying and a short area of extremely bad ice that the Spanish should salt, it truly is a death trap. I suppose with the lack of Spanish drivers, it puts the road on equal footing with all the others in Spain.

As I was pushing, yes PUSHING my bike up a French section of these mountains I stopped and had a chat with this fellow. He was quite understanding, we got on well and he too was looking forward to May when the weather should improve.

I passed a youth hostel in Aldudes and really should have spent the night as I was already tiered, but was eager to make some progress and pushed a little too hard not realising just how much more there was to go.

I said I intended staying in Zubiri but it was dark by the time I reached Eugi so I thought Id have a look for a room here as I didn’t want to be on a Spanish road after dark. Actually, I hadn’t seen a single car until I arrived in Eugi which was more than lucky as I was all over the road avoiding snow, black ice and the visibility was atrocious as I was in a cloud for three hours and both my corrective lenses and glasses were both misted up/ dripping wet. Now as darkness fell there was a constant stream of lorries carrying logs down to a mill somewhere at the foot of the mountain and I had no desire to share the road with them especially in the dark. At some point later I will elaborate on Spanish driving lets suffice to say for now that I prefer the roads of southern India.

Getting the woman to actually do something about the heating was nearly too much effort and with my ingratiating smile on automatic I tried to remember that I’m in Spain now and repeating yourself is just part of the scene.

After my now familiar defrost/ wash I had some fish soup that was good this was followed by microwaved chicken breast in packet cheese sauce that wasn’t. With my remaining energy I looked everywhere for a vegetable, mineral or nutrient really I did, but they were missing.

Its very pretty here, had I not been cold and soaked through I would have been Oh-ing and Ah-ing about how pretty it is, but Spain in the winter is just cold, wet and miserable well it was the last time I crossed Castilla y Lyon and Extremadura in November. I don’t know about you, but have you spotted the recurrent theme here?

The heating finally came on and all my clothes were dry by the morning, just in time for another soaking as I left. Ive been looking for the “P” in insistent, when all the while persistent was the adjective I was looking for.