Montpellier and Girona

Last night in Montpellier: a little hill to challenge a little rider.

The beginning of bike trips are often busy for me, and jetlagged, and while this has been easier than many, still it has been occupied. One of my hopes for this particular little adventure is to slow down, think, observe, not be as goal driven as I have become. Thanks for that, to good friends at home and their good advice.

Some photos for you, I have as yet done no riding.

Last night in Montpellier, a city I am very fond of, and to which I will return in a few weeks. The big square, Place de la Comédie, at night: well lit, and blue.



Today I took the train from Montpellier to Girona, where I was meeting friends who live in Paris, to ride and see a bit of Catalonia. After that I aim for Collioure, over the border back in France. From there I hope to ride north, into the Mediterranean Pyrenees and then across to Montpellier. I kept a keen eye out the train window, both to the sea and to the north. It took only one look at this mountain to change my plan. My apologies for the poor photo quality, the image was taken through the moving train window. I had planned to ride, then hike, up Canigou, an important and beautiful mountain to Catalonians in Spain and France, with a very old abbaye. But S.T.O.P. look at that snow! No way do I want to ride there ... really truly hard, most especially with snow,  is not on the itinerary.



And many thanks, should they see this, to these new friends from the Barcelona and Madrid areas. They boarded the train in Perpignan to return home after a tour in France. We got to talking, and they helped me so, with steps and new-to-me train systems. They told me the time to ride Canigou is July to September ... not now. One of the very best things about traveling by bike is meeting other riders, even in brief encounters, and finding that thread of common experience that ties us together. The planet needs more of that.



I am now arrived in Girona, a medieval Catalan city near France and near the Mediterranean. It will be fun to explore! And I learned another thing. My French is by no means fluent, although I get by. But there is nothing like being in a country where I speak, well maybe 12 words, the most useful of which are "Hola. No hablo espagnol." to make my French feel quite excellent. I learned that the language spoken here is not in fact Spanish, but Catalan. I came to think that many residents prefer speaking English to Spanish, though since I speak neither Catalan nor Spanish that is only an impression.