Viva España

I appreciate that this story is not about any caravan or motorhome travels but I checked to see that quite a few of the stories are not related to our hobby so decided to post this old story I had written for a tour we did in 2006 in our Mazda MX5 for an article in the MX5 Owners Club magazine. I wanted to see how easy it was to post stories with photographs before deciding whether to do the same during our impending holiday in the motorhome. I hope some readers may find the story useful and a pleasure to read, forgive the content on some occasions as it was written for MX5 owners. It was published with lots of photos so now it will be hard to select just 5 to include here. Regards, Roy

Viva España

Introduction

In July 2004, as a Silver wedding present to ourselves we bought a 1998 Mk 2 Twilight Blue 1.8iS MX5 complete with black leather seats and walnut dash! Soon after, we joined the MX5 Owners Club. Apart from taking our son away following his ‘A’ Levels, we’ve only used the car for club outings with Lincolnshire Area members and the occasional weekend drive. So we decided the next venture would be on the continent. As Sharon & I plan to retire to Spain in three years this seemed like the logical choice and in April 2006 we took the ferry from Hull to Zeebrugge to begin our adventure. Our only definite plan was to visit a friend who’d left the UK to set up a B&B in the Dordogne,France.

Planning

Sharon was happy to go anywhere, while my desire was to visit the classic resort of Biarritz for an ice cream, head into Spain visiting San Sebastian and Pamplona (where bulls are run down the streets each year), followed by Jaca in the Pyrenees and Barcelona before staying on the Costa Brava for a few days. Our return would be through France, across the new Millau viaduct, the Massif Central and then a visit to Brugge before catching the ferry home.

Preparation

We bought a ‘Tomtom’ satellite navigation system, maximised boot space by taking clothes on special multi rung hangers and took two Jaz Bags for other items which were placed behind the wind deflector. It was surprising how much we fit into the boot, needless to say we returned with items not worn or never used! I also removed the driver’s foot rest before we left which would allow me more room to stretch out my left foot for the journey. The car had just been serviced and had a new full set of Goodyear Eagle GF1 tyres. I packed a tape recorder to record our travels for this article.

The Journey begins

Day one (28 April) - odometer 28905

We left home on Friday afternoon with a full tank of petrol @ 95.9 pence a litre. After a brief visit to my mothers to wish her a happy 89^th birthday, we boarded ‘the Pride of Brugge’ and settled into our four berth outside cabin before enjoying an extensive selection from the evening buffet, a sociable evening over some wine and a good nights sleep. We had our moneys worth that night I assure you! The ferry crossing cost £367.

Day two – odometer 28917

After a hearty breakfast, we disembarked at 8.30am and programmed the ‘Tomtom’ to the fastest route to the Dordogne, about 550 miles away. The weather was cloudy and chilly so we kept the roof up and we entered Franceat 9.20am after collecting our first toll ticket 79 miles into the journey. We took a 30 minute break before we negotiated the ‘Boulevard Peripherique’, and 160 miles into the journey we encountered a 20 minute traffic delay due to the volume of traffic passing through the toll booths on the A1. The motorway charge was €11.50.

The Tomtom helped us navigate around Paris, negotiating us through the complex lane and motorway changes. It took one hour and 20 minutes to get around Paris before we picked up the A10 south towards Bordeaux. We received our second toll ticket 226 miles into the journey and refuelled after 61 miles later with 37.86 litres. This worked out at 35.61mpg, not bad going having travelled 80mph where possible on the motorway. After a lunch stop, Sharon took the wheel for the next 160 miles. I was keen to track the air temperature (probably from my days at sea supplying the metrological office with four hourly weather reports!), and as the MX5 doesn’t have an outside temperature gauge I took a digital thermometer, placing it on the driver’s windscreen wiper blade. Unfortunately Sharon didn’t see it and it flew across the windscreen. We stopped and searched the road surface but to no joy, then we discovered the gauge between the bonnet and the wing panel of the car. The air temperature in the shade was 18.5°C.

We left the A10 toll road after 321 miles (€16.40 for 95 miles) and joined the toll free A20 for Limoges. The scenery was beautiful as we drove up and down rolling hills edged with assorted trees in the forest of Limosine and a neatly clipped hedge ran alongside the motorway in the area of Ambazac. After 420 miles we spotted our first Policeman, stood in the bushes by a service area!

We moved onto the A89, incurred a €1 toll for the short journey and joined the N89. I took over driving with the roof down and we spent the last 54 miles on this and other minor roads passing through a picturesque old town draped in Wisteria in the Dordogne called Terrasson. It had a river running through its heart and three course meals advertised at €11. We finally arrived in Saint Germain du Salembre at 7.30pm, I was very tired but surprisingly had no aches or pains after 11 hours in the seat.

Distance travelled - 550 miles

The balloons were out as Rachel greeted us on the roadside and we had a bottle of Champagneon ice in our bedroom to quench our thirsts. We were the first guests to visit her new venture and she was very pleased to see us. She pampered us and served up a wonderful meal, which is no surprise as she is a cook after all. The evening ended over some wine and a good catch up before tiredness set in and I had to retire to bed.

Day three – odometer 29467

We had a lie in before rising to a tasty French breakfast of fresh breads, preserves, croissants and pot of English tea, which we supplied. We stayed in a large bedroom with ensuite, it was a quiet location and all we heard was the church clock, and the view of neighbouring houses across the road in the morning sun was a picture postcard of France. By 11am we left for a drive round the area and used the Tomtom to take us to nearby villages on the shortest routes. Fuel was a priority as Sundays in France means almost everywhere is closed, there was also a doubt that supermarket 24 hour fuel pumps would accept our British credit cards as highlighted in the local press. This was true; however, we were fortunate to find a small garage which served us with fuel. We took 34.14 litres for 265 miles (35.24 mpg). We drove a circuit through heavily wooded farmland visiting Aubeterre-sur-Dronne and met a Renault Classic car club, we parked adjacent a Alpine Renault sports car amongst other models. When they moved off it was to the sound of horns blazing. In the afternoon we visited Chalais, Brantome (which had a spectacular abbey alongside the river) and Riberac. It was nice on the quiet deserted roads through pleasant countryside, reminding me of our Sunday club drives in Lincolnshire. Adverts for Foie Gras abounded as this was the area from which the luxury pate hails.

We drove back to Rachel’s in almost constant sun having had the roof down all day. Rachel’s parents also live in the Dordogne and came across to see us. We enjoyed a chat over a beer in the garden, before another excellent meal prepared by Rachel. The night ended peacefully over a glass of good local red wine and a glass of the local drink of Pinough. Many locals have their own vines and contribute to the process in return for a bottle of the pleasant aperitif.

Distance travelled – 105 miles

Day four – odometer 29572

It was a public holiday and everything appeared closed without a soul to see. We packed the car, said our goodbyes and left for Biarritz around 10.30am. It was a bright, warm day and nine miles into the journey we played some music on the stereo for the first time. The roads were clear as we passed numerous fields of grape vines growing in apparent isolation. After 43 miles of motorway driving and €6.20 we picked up the N89 just as the sun began to break through the clouds. Having negotiated our way around Bordeaux, we headed south for Biarritz stopping for a picnic lunch in a shaded service area with some Spaniards who were returning home to Bilbao. We spoke of our travels as they seemed curious over our little sports car. We’d only seen one other open topped convertible so far and that was a Ferrari around Paris. We refuelled after 250 miles with 31.5 litres (36.02 mpg). As we nearedBiarritz178 miles into the journey we joined the A63 for a short distance costing €3. The roads became more winding, the scenery changed to a wide variety of trees and there was a noticeable increase in wind speed. We entered the chic resort of Biarritz and parked near the large and expensive Hotel de Palis, formerly the palace of Napoleon III, which had a commanding view over the golden beach well occupied by sun bathers (a lot still clothed I might add). We’d travelled 199 miles. We strolled along the promenade enjoying the views with an ice cream. I also explored what you received for your €100 set menu displayed on the gates to the hotel gardens as a security guard watched me closely! We left for San Sebastian at 3.35pm hoping to find a hotel for the night. The N10 had beautiful views of the coast and the foot hills of the Pyrenees and we started to see many convertible cars with the roof down but still no MX5’s. We crossed the border at Irun where the quality of the road surface changed for the worse with pot holes everywhere. We followed the N1 into San Sebastian, the roads were fast and congested with those large bendy busses making life difficult for us on the corners. It was difficult finding a parking space let alone a hotel so we travelled 20 minutes back along the A8 to Irun and booked into the Ibis Hotel, it was 5.45pm.

Distance travelled - 248 miles.

We had a pleasant meal in the hotel restaurant including a basket of Spanish speciality sausages. The type you see hanging up, dry cured, in the shops but never seem to want to taste. Well we did on this occasion and they were very good. The day ended with a quiet drink in the bar

Day five – odometer 29820

A bright, clear sky and 13ºC. The car had a slight covering of moisture. We set of at 10.20am to visit a small nearby hamlet called Hondarribia which was recommended by a British couple we’d met in the hotel. It was very picturesque with chalet style houses painted in bright colours, a small fishing harbour sheltering bright blue fishing vessels and a broad expanse of golden sand. Across the river Bidasoa, lay France. After buying some fruit for lunch and refuelling alongside the airport runway with 14.2 litres at a much reduced Spanish price of €1.07 (34.5 mpg) we set off along the N121/N121A all the way to Pamplona. We followed the scenic route with a winding river bed up the valley as the steep, heavily forested sides rose before us as we climbed. The winds were very strong blowing down the valley and the poor driving of lorry drivers on this narrow winding road taxed concentration to its limits. We increased altitude and the strong fragrance from the gorse at the side of the road permeated the fresh air. As we turned one bend we encountered a motorcycle Police patrol with a speed camera just before reaching the highest point on the road which was marked by a long tunnel at about 1100m altitude. We then descended to Pamplona arriving at 12.40pm. We parked in the city centre in the Corte Ingles department store car park thanks to the Tomtom. Here we located the bull ring from where we followed the route down the streets where the bulls run each July in the ‘Fiestas de San Fermin’.Pamplona was also a major stage on the Santiago pilgrimage. The city was vibrant and bustling as we had lunch in the Plaza de San Francisco escaping the mid day sun for a short while. We were back on the road by 3pm heading for the mountain resort of Jaca along the N240. Green fields and to our south masses of wind turbines on the hill line formed the view. By 3.40pm we started to climb up the Pyrenees towards Jaca. It was a scorching 25ºC in the shade. Small patches of grape vines broke up the fields of long grasses harvested for hay as we saw Herons overhead fishing in the large reservoir and its tributaries. The road was windy with many tight bends limited to 30 mph. We could see the peaks ahead capped in snow. In the middle of the valley we came across a large eruption of rock in the landscape with a small village of white washed houses on stilts sat on top called Berdún, the church stood prominent from a distance. We finally arrived at Jaca about 5pm and located the tourist information office, finding a room at the Hotel A Boira, which had a garage for us to park the car.

Distance travelled - 134 miles

We explored the town that night and ate in the centre of the old town with the locals. It was clearly a tourist holiday area with the ski slopes close by a cathedral and a castle. We managed to get a good view of the major peak (2886m) to our north with the car in the shot but we did not see any of the mountain goats that roam this national park area.

Day six – odometer 29954

We called our son with a good luck message for his final law exam and then left for Catalonia at 10.15am. We weren’t sure how far we’d get but decided to stay to the main roads after seeing what some of the smaller ones were like as they crossed the valleys running down from the mountain tops. It was another hot and sunny day. We took the N330 towards Huesca and passed through the tunnels at the Puerto de Monrepos at 1,280m coming into the shade of the mountains to our north as we descended. It was now chilly, the winds drove down the mountain side making it blustery inside the car. From the relatively flat plain around Huesca we took the N240 to Lleida where the scenery changed to green rolling hills, similar to the Yorkshire Moors. Trees were dotted around; poppies adorned the roadside as the land erupted with rock formations every now and again for no apparent reason. Large numbers of buzzards circled on the thermal air currents. We saw a number of what appeared to be monasteries perched on the mounds of rock in isolation and in the very far distance we could still see snow on the peaks. Large fields of vines greeted us around Barbasto as we entered an obvious wine producing area from the wine museum by the roadside. People in wide brimmed hats were picking the grapes by hand. I later read this area was now also producing farmed Sturgeons for caviar to rival the famous Beluga caviar from Iran and Russia which was in short supply. At 12.30pm we stopped for lunch and fuel 28.20 litres at €1.06 (36.45 mpg). But then the Tomtom wouldn’t switch on, the power light was on but there was no display. The manufacturers told us it was a faulty car charging lead and sent another one on our return to the UK!

We had been using the Tomtom to help find hotels. Anyway, with this not working and not having any small scale maps, I decided to take a different route towards the Costa Brava and headed for Barcelona where we could easily find an Ibis hotel on the outskirts. From Lleida we took the toll free A2 which had a terrible road surface. We encountered our fist rain, which did not last long, but the debris on the A2 blowing in the extremely strong winds meant we had to keep the roof up for safety reasons, the buffeting as we passed the large number of HGV’s on the road was not pleasant either as we entered Catalonia. As we neared Barcelona I could see a strange large rock formation in the distance which I discovered was Montserrat, which means saw toothed mountain, with its Benedictine monastery sheltered at a peak of 721m below the rocks. You could see why it got its name and we stopped to take a photograph. The motorway towards Barcelona improved as it cut through rolling green hills dotted with houses, farms and wind farms. It became very busy as we followed road signs rather than the voice of John Cleese talking to us! We took the AP7 north from the A2 having crossed the river Llobregat at Canyet on the outskirts of Barcelona. Not far along the AP7, around junction 20, we were beset by three men in a large series new BMW who were trying to get us to stop by suggesting there was something wrong with our rear wheel. The front seat passenger was hanging out of the window from his waist screaming and pointing at the back of our car as we sped at 80 mph in the outside lane of this very busy motorway. Realising their intentions were not friendly I ‘politely’ waved them off and refused to stop as they tried to pull us over onto the hard shoulder. Realising we had twigged their intentions they sped off in great haste. I stopped at the next service area to check the car and inform the Police, who incidentally shot off with blue lights flashing as I approached, perhaps someone had witnessed our ordeal and phoned them. The car was fine.

We carried on and left at junction 13 booking into the Ibis at Montmelo, where the Spanish Grand Prix was taking place the following week. It was 4pm.

Distance travelled - 233 miles

We settled in for an enjoyable meal and drink in the restaurant whose walls displayed racing memorabilia from the racing stadium a stone’s throw away.

Ibis also confirmed a mafia gang was working the AP7 from France to Barcelona then the AP2 to Zaragoza, stopping certain cars by deceiving the drivers there is a problem. When they get out to check, the second passenger steals your car, and drops off any passengers 1km along the motorway. We’d had a lucky escape!

Day seven – odometer 30187

We set off at 9.45am for the Costa Brava. Having travelled 1282 miles it was time for a rest and six nights relaxing on the coast. We wanted a sea front hotel or apartment with somewhere to park the car safely and somewhere to sit out and watch the world go by! We headed for Blanes taking the A7, picking up a €2.75 toll then the GI512 & GI600 coastal roads. We found the resorts along the coast almost deserted with few hotels meeting our requirements or having availability. From Tossa de Mar the road was hairpin bends all the way to Sant Feliu de Guixlos. It was noticeable by this time that few roads allowed overtaking generally and this one was certainly not suitable. The down side to this was the lack of opportunities to take photographs. I was feeling quite sick by the end of the road but there were a couple of view point areas with breath-taking views, like the one looking south at Tossa de Mar. We also found houses for sale that were under construction at Punta Brava and selling for €1.5 million. We quickly realised that this beautiful area was one that we could not afford to retire to as even two bed apartments, which we were not interested in, were €500,000.

At Sant Feliu de Guixlos we met a runner who was running 65k a day for 8 days from Valencia to Montpellier for charity. There was a rest and water station on the seafront. He was off again before I could capture his photo but I did manage to get the assistant’s. We arrived at Calella de Palafrugell, which a friend had recommended. It was 5pm.

Distance travelled - 87 miles.

The tape I was recording notes on for this part of the journey was faulty so I write from memory. We found a beautiful sea front apartment with magnificent views from the balcony over this quaint, once tiny, fishing village. It had now grown into a resort but still retained its attractiveness with peace and tranquillity, good restaurants and no clubs that we could find, only a couple of shops and one taverna open. It was full of French holiday makers and our neighbours were wealthy people from Barcelona who visited for the weekend. We even managed to witness traditional timber boat building by the shoreline which was made up of tiny coves with promenades abutting the gravely sand. It was so nice we stayed here for the full six nights and indulged ourselves in the restaurants.

Days eight to twelve – odometer 30274

We did not venture far for the first three days except to have a short drive one night to the small villages to the north of us where hardly a soul was seen. On Monday 8^th May we ventured further a field travelling on mainly small roads to Roses via La Bisbal, a ceramics centre. I filled up there putting 35.00 litres in the tank at €1.11 a litre. Roses was in a nature park area and it had the most enormous soft golden sand beach with a wide paved promenade running alongside that seemed to stretch for well over five miles. It was very flat so perfect for the elderly and we met a couple from Wolverhampton who were on a coach holiday staying in a beach front hotel there. The town did rise up into a hill and there was a land train you could take for varying lengths of rides around the area. We experienced a weather front passing over whilst there which brought a sand storm that hurt the face. We visited L’Estartitt on the way back and sat in a restaurant for an hour until a torrential downpour eased. When I made a dash for the car and picked Sharon up we drove out through a flooded road so deep in water it lapped the underside of the car. The last full day there we spent on the beach again. The weather was very pleasant and hot in the shelter from the wind the whole time we were on the Costa Brava except for the rain at L’Estartit. We had only travelled about 120 miles whilst there and would you believe it we only saw two MX5’s in the whole holiday, one a green MK1 on French plates and the other, a silver MK2 on Spanish plates and both were in Calella. The Spaniard came up behind us flashing his lights and waving on the night we drove up the coast but he did not stop to speak with us, shame really. The morning we set off I washed the car early and tried to get it down to the beach with the small fishing boats for a photo shoot before the village awoke but the gradient and our mud flaps prevented me getting down the last bit of granite road. I settled for some taken on the main road/pedestrian walkway by the restaurants.

Distance travelled – 121 miles

Day thirteen – odometer 30395

We said goodbye to Henry & his wife and left for France at 10am on what appeared to be a beautiful sunny day. This is when I discovered the faulty tape and started with a fresh one. We took the C66 then C31 picking up the N11 at Figueres where we refuelled taking on 14 litres (37.70mpg) before we encountered the dearer petrol in France again. This was Salvador Dali’s birthplace and was a large cosmopolitan town with lots of tourists taking guided walks as we passed through. At 11.25am and 39 miles into the journey we joined the AP7 toll motorway north of the town. It was only a €1.75 toll to the French border 13 miles further north, which incidentally was manned but the immigration just waved us through. We travelled a further five miles picking up a toll ticket on the same road which had now become the A9 in France. The scenery was a mixture of hills and mountains of the Pyrenees in the distance with agricultural crops and grape vines growing adjacent the motorway. We exited at junction 34 after 134 miles and paid the toll of €9.80 then followed local roads for eight miles to the A75, a toll free motorway. We are heading for Clermont Ferrand over the viaduct at Millau and up into the Massif Central with the volcanoes, which was the reason we chose this route home. The further away from the coast the more we started to climb on winding roads up into the mountains once again. It was very green and the numbers of trees began to increase. We also passed a number of GB camper vans along the way who acknowledged us with a flash of the headlights. The temperature slowly grew cooler as we climbed and road side markings kept you informed of the altitude. At 500m we had to change into 4^th gear before flattening out at 733m. We continued to climb again as yellow flowers adorned the road side and central reservation of this excellent quality road finally reaching the viaduct at 197 miles. It was a toll road to cross the viaduct and the fist signs of the pillars were spectacular. They appeared like stainless steel sails that reflected in the bonnet of the car as we approached. The most disappointing thing was there was no viewing area, even at the toll booth to the north where we paid our €5.10 for the 2.5k crossing. I decided to stop at a roadside SOS phone where the hard shoulder was slightly wider and take the necessary photograph of the bridge with the car, and Sharon of course. I cannot truly describe in words what a beautiful piece of engineering the bridge is with its seven pillars that look like the sails of a yacht. It was certainly worth travelling this way home to see it. We continued to climb to an altitude of 888m and over two smaller viaducts before stopping for a late lunch at Severac Chateua services where the rain caught us as we made our pate baguettes and had to rush to get the roof up. A trip around the services shop revealed the specialities of the region, Rocheforte cheese, duck livers and cured hams. We set off in the rain and clouds as sheep and horses were now appearing in the fields despite us climbing to 1121m and seeing snow on top of the mountains to our northwest. We pass through the Auvergne and Cantal cheese region and enter the volcano nature park passing the snow capped Plomb du Cantal to our west peaking at 1855m. Running short of fuel we leave the motorway to enter Issoire for fuel and fill up with 38.80 litres at €1.31 a litre (33.3 mpg). We carry on driving along the A75, now a very windy road taking us in and out of the clouds to find the Ibis at Clermont Ferrand full so we moved on to the second Ibis here located on the N9 with views of the immaculately tended cemetery with war graves and the Pays du Dome volcano in the clouds from our room window. It was 6pm

Distance travelled - 342 miles.

Day fourteen – odometer 30737

A 10am start with overcast sky and a temperature of 8ºC. I wore trousers for travelling, the first time since Irun. An elderly French couple were interested in our car and travels and spoke to us as we loaded, they were surprised at the distance we’d travelled and wished us ‘bon voyage’. Our plan was to bypass Parisand cros France off the motorways so we took the N9 to Moulins, N7 to Nevers, D977 then N151 to Auxerre and N77 to Troyes. It was wonderful MX5 driving, particularly the D977, as we cut through heavily forested countryside of clear roads. The day brightened and became quite hot in the midday sun as we passed through patchwork farming land interspersed with small fields of vines. Elderly people in the villages tended their allotment gardens and the fields contained creamy white small cows. We passed numerous speed cameras - grateful of their warning signs and saw black cut out figures with a red flash from head to chest, we assumed they indicated accident black spots. The sun broke between Moulins and Nevers, so we stopped to apply some cream as the heat rose, it was going to be another sweltering day. We got tangled up in an extremely long, slow moving military convoy at Nevers. Just outside Auxerre we stopped for lunch before moving onto Troyes where the Chablis vines were growing in tiny clusters at the side of the road. We refuelled with 29.55 litres (36.9 mpg) and then decided to take the A26 motorway to make up time. We joined the toll motorway at 233 miles paying €8.20 at Reims at 295 miles. Onto the A6 for 12 miles and another toll ticket, before coming off at 335 miles and €3.60. We took the N44 then N2 to Laon and arrived at the Ibis hotel at the foot of a rock, which housed the old historical town of Laon. It was 6.40pm.

Distance travelled - 340 miles.

The meal at this Ibis was probably the best one we’d had in their exceptionally good, gastronomic style, restaurant with a superb bottle of wine.

Day fifteen – odometer 31077

We left for Brugge at 9.55am, it was a hot sunny day and we decided to visit the city before catching the ferry. We took the N2 then N44 to St Quentin before joining the A26 toll motorway again after 32 miles. We followed the signs for Lille, Gent and finally Brugge taking the A26 then A1 paying a toll of €5.10 at 70 miles after which it was toll free. After 100 miles we joined the A22 crossing into Belgium then the signs became confusing but I think we followed the A14, A17, A19, N31 then local roads into Brugge parking at the Central Train Station at 12.35pm having travelled 150 miles. Parking was €2 and the ticket came with free return bus transport into the centre from directly outside the station. We spent a pleasant few hours walking around the city and enjoyed some street food and chocolates before taking in the remainder of the sun outside the Provost’s house in the market watching the world go by whilst hearing the bell toll in the belfry. We left at 4.25pm for Zeebrugge and the ferry home. A lack of signs meant I had to follow the route we had taken into the town before picking up the N31 straight to the ferry arriving at 4.55pm and boarded the ‘Pride of York’

Distance travelled - 164 miles.

I managed to get thirty bottles of wine in the car, eighteen on the parcel shelf with one of the Maz bags and two boxes in the boot. Sharon would have to carry the other bag on her knee!

Day sixteen – odometer at end 31250

We disembarked at 8.15am. It was a cold miserable day with rain imminent, as we left the docks two young deer jumped out and across the road disappearing into the shrubs. It was only a short journey home and we refuelled en route with 40 litres at 96.9p per litre (32.6 mpg). Within three miles of the ferry we saw our first MX5, having only seen two on the continent!

We’d travelled 2,345 miles using 303.25litres (66.8 gallons) of petrol (35.10 mpg) costing £276. We’d spent €73.41 (£52) on tolls and I’d driven all but 160 miles without as much as a back ache. The car behaved impeccably not using any oil and only losing about ¼” of coolant in the reservoir during the first days driving and the new tyres were good and quieter than the previous Dunlop SP Sport’s.

It was a fantastic journey without a crossed word between us after all those hours almost glued together. Not bad after 27 years of marriage! We now look forward to our next adventure and have already spoken about retracing our honeymoon route around the coast of Scotland in our Riley Elf - but I suspect Sharon would prefer the almost guaranteed sun of the continent again!