18. maj - Entering France and a new dimension in linguistic disaster, prehistoric caves

Just a few clicks out of town I once again clean the carb, check ignition, change spark plugs (like I did friggin' eight times in Japan) and face the choice of calling the gurus in Denmark again, or just set the bike on fire. Been there before, which is why matches and lighter are not part of my travel kit. In the end the simple advice of turning on the choke a bit to compensate for the thin air does the trick. (Thanks Knud).   

As for language, I do actually speak a tiny bit of French, but the difference between here and Spain is that the Spaniards don't actually expect you to communicate in their language. Still, starting of with a few standard French sentences breaks the ice, and they speak english. Haven't yet had use for "j'ai une permission Danois officielle pour conduire sans casque" (I have an official Danish permission for riding without a helmet), but it'll happen, no doubt.

Having been fascinated with stalactites and stalagmites since childhood, Grottes de Canalottes halfway to Perpignan are a logical first stop, and live up to my expectations. Not as grand as I've seen elsewhere, but the few hundred meters they have open for regular visitors are still impressive. Insiders - no pun intended - have found their way ten kilometers into the mountain....

   While Grand Canyon in the US is half as old as the planet itself, these caves are mere yearlings at 40 million years of age. I can somehow deal with the physical dimensions of both, but the timescale is difficult to fully comprehend.

Soon the Pyrenees are descending towards The Mediterranean, and the bike runs better the lower the altitude. Not perfect, though, but again, that'll be something to worry about tomorrow.

19. maj - Flatlands and a worry-free day

 After having my cravings for twisty roads fulfilled, I don't mind a day of straight roads only all day, leading me through Narbonne to Montpellier. Feet on the forward pegs, back against the backrest - it may look like shite, but damn, it works. Having told the phone's GPS that I hate motorways it does occasionally lead me on absolutely silly routes through small towns. But then, seeing a German-reg'd 3-axle Carthago Wohnmobil fight its way through the same streets, with lots of back and forth in the turns, is priceless.

The landscape is hardly exciting, but the fact that the bike runs well here through the marshlands makes me finally - FINALLY - relax and enjoy the ride. 'Spar' grocery stores appear sporadically, so obviously they're not a Danish phenomenon only. Actually saw a few in Japan too. 

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For reasons beyond me now both the tablet and the phone refuse to upload pics to this blog, but hopefully the Apple store in Marseille can save the day.