Day 10
A deliciously swift exit to Milan put paid to the previous evening's navigation blues. The ride looked set to turn out like yesterday's, promising on the map but quite bland in truth when suddenly...that left hand bend tightened! We'd all been commenting how easily "readable Spanish roads were and each of us was caught out in turn by it. As we were all musing, up came a hairpin. And another. And another, climbing into the mountain to a high point of 1710 m above sea level according to the map. Gary mentioned that his front wheel was resolutely (and uncharacteristically, it has to be said) anchored to the floor because the engine became quite breathless, Damian was searching for lower and lower gears to pull out of the corners - but there were none. Yeehar! Apart from some frustratingly bad signage into Haro and a missing final sign to the hotel itself completed Damian's irritation at the signage in Spain, which he eloquently expressed at the side of the road using words and actions to nobody in particular. Vicki said "there, there" and everyone waited patiently until I got over it.
