A couple of final points before we depart The Iberian Intervention.
The CB and I finished our Spain sojourn yesterday after a day in Toledo on Tuesday with another very interesting walking tour through another town steeped in history. After two hours in the heat we were only interested in finding a bar and pouring an ice cold beer over our heads and maybe drinking a bit as it ran down our faces, if it hadn’t evaporated before it got that far. We sat in a bar for an hour or so and watched (and felt) the temperature go from 34 degC to 42 degC.
Toledo should produce the best rally drivers or bike riders in the world. The streets are narrow, winding, stone lined canyons with cobbled surfaces and slopes that would make a mountain goat pause. In fact they are so narrow, a few hundred years ago the locals had to cut the edges out of the corners up to a few feet off the ground so wagon wheels could get round. But the locals throw their beamers and mercs and vespers through the chicanes with more chance of hitting a tourist than a wall.
And you wouldn’t want to put your car into a wall because some of these walls were built by the Romans and they didn’t mess about. The bricks are as big as a Paris Hilton suitcase and almost as heavy.
Yesterday, our fifth day in Madrid, was a down day. We were both knackered and needed to regroup before the Morocco stage of this vacation. In fact, I’m writing this in the bar of our hotel in Casablanca. The next post will be Part 1 of The Berber Bash.