Last week I told you about my Easter holidays in Vielha and their language. However, there’s always something else to tell.
Vielha is 300 km from Barcelona and, since I don’t own a car, I took the train to Centelles, where another guest was waiting with his car — and extra sheets and blankets for I had forgotten my sleeping bag at home.
After four hours on the road, we entered the Bonaigua mountain pass (silly us), half an hour from our destination. Darkness, a thick fog and 2-metre ice walls surrounded us. That’s when I told my partner about the Silent Hill saga. Anyways, we thought we could just drive slowly and carefully to cross over that peculiar mountain pass. We run into a couple of cars travelling in the opposite direction which flashed their lights at us, what we understood as “Drive carefully”. What they meant, nevertheless, was “There’s a snowplough blocking the way because of an avalanche”. Despite what they said, there wasn’t any sign at the entrance of the pass, unless it was a post-it written in pencil — which is more difficult to see — in the ditch. Two hours and some kilometres later, at midnight, we got to the apartment. The diversion wasn’t that bad after all; the artisans got back from the market by midnight as well.
The owner of the car said I’d be the pilot those days as he had driven enough. In other words, he offered me free driving practices after three years without sitting at the wheel. I don’t want to sound conceited, but then, I don’t like lying; so I have to admit that my natural talent came back, especially when I parked in only two — not three, but two — perfect manoeuvres. I did deserve a star sticker.