Fanjeaux

This morning Angela's nose resembled that of a certain fictional reindeer who only works once a year. Despite applying sun screen when we went out cycling yesterday, it did not protect her from the strong breeze. We needed to leave relatively early this morning, as we planned to drive for a few miles to make an inroad into our return journey. Originally we had planned to cross Spain to San Sebastian but rain was forecast. The other option was to retrace our steps back towards Carcassonne, but strong winds were forecast. The wind won. Before leaving we took one last walk in to town to buy our lunch.

As we drove out of L'Estartit we wondered if we would return. Hopefully. But with so many places on our list to visit we're not sure.

As we approached the border with France just north of La Jonquera there was just us and a Spanish courier van to cross so we expected to be stopped. But no. Just a curious glance from the border policeman. Underwear drying on the dashboard works every time. We nodded to the baffled policeman and crossed into France. Bon retour en France Marge. The onward drive towards Perpignan was difficult. The wind buffeting Marge from every angle. There were no 'ladies in waiting' present alongside the road. We couldn't blame them, who wants to be out in the middle of nowhere skimpily dressed with a chill wind blowing.

After driving for nearly five hours we arrived at the small hilltop town of Fanjeaux. As we crested the hill Marge almost coughed her last, she'd had a headwind all the way up the 16% gradient. After a much needed mug of coffee we wrapped ourselves up against the persistent wind in coats, hats, scarves and gloves and took a walk around the medieval town. Yesterday we'd been wearing shorts. What a difference a day makes.

There were lots of photo opportunities and we found the quiet, almost lost in time town interesting. We were fascinated by the exteriors of some of the habited buildings. Rocks, bricks and pieces of wood with no rendering to cover it. How warm was it inside these houses?

The wind is set to blow strongly through the night so Marge will be rocking which we're not too keen on. But hey, it's all part of the trip. As we approached Perpignan two vans from Finland drove past us at speed. The second one had these words emblazoned across the back. Life is now. There is no later! We agree one hundred percent don't we Marge?