16. Maj - Near-death experiences & flamenco

There are non-Danes reading this blog too, so from now on it'll be en English. Danes won't be one-tenth as screwed as the foreigners if this was continued in the original language.

Prepare tomorrow's route from where DGR ends, presuming it's not all posers on new Harleys and Triumphs that show up. If so I'll just go north on scenic routes, a few hundred clicks. First major attractions are some subterranean old caves in France.

  Then off to town on a rented bicycle. While the traffic rules for this mode of transport match those of love & war, Barcelone seems safe, with lots of new and new-ish bicycle paths. The few inevitable near-death experiences were entirely my own fault.

The travel guide book my local used book store gave me seems slightly out of date, e.g. with prices in the ancient currency called pesetas. Like most travel guides the book shows no publishing date, but it must have been printed before 2002. Had he really planned to sell it to someone?

 The rental store has a tab advertising a flamenco show somewhere in the most touristy area of Barcelona, but touristy show or not, I am suitably impressed. So much in fact, that I skip the live punk rock I thought should round up the evening.

17. Maj - DGR, carb trouble, The Pyrenees

Distinguished Gentleman's Ride was what hoped it would not be: Almost entirely new bikes, and I was ably to count a mere six ones with drum brakes up front, two of which were Vespas. So after half an hour witnessing this nonsense I headed for the hills.In retrospect I probably should have left yesterday, but then regrets get me nowhere.

Wehrmacht BMW R75 Sahara and below Montesa of the kind that used 

to roam all over town. Really the only interesting bikes the locals brought.

Halfway to my destination the bike starts running rough and won't pull. Spark plug indicates it's running too lean, so I raise the needle a bit. Doesn't solve that it won't idle, which experts in diagnose as a blocked idle jet, so half an hour is spent working out that problem (only partially solved). 

   Then the roads gets really curvy, me going uphill in 3rd and 2nd, reach 1.800 meters in rain  and I get to test if waxing the Drizabone coat the other night has an effect (it does). DGR may have sucked, the Nimbus acts up, I'm freezing and the World is going to Hell in a handbasket, but at least I'm stylish. Good thing I bought waterproof socks, pity I didn't put them on.

Right after sending off the Nimbus off in Denmark I took a short ride on the Honda and remember thinking "what the f*** were you thinking", but I'm still enjoying it, even when seeing dozens upon dozens of the locals tearing the road apart at twice my speed.

200 clicks today, riding comfort with Harley saddle, ex-office chair backrest and highway pegs is almost like a GoldWing without suspension. Hotel in Puigcerda just right of Andorra is cool in an odd way, at less than half of the one in Barcelona.