Estrellas

19 – La Puta Francia and the last estrellas

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Sunday, August 3rd: We leave the nice place in Orléans in the morning, tell the navigational system to avoid Paris at all costs and set sail for our home. When we see the Eiffel Tower appear on the horizon we know something went really wrong.

If this is Paris on a Sunday, I don’t wanna know what Paris on a Monday or Friday looks like. Holy crap. I’m clutching the emotional support drum stick and pray we make it through this city in one piece, preferably without dents and scratches in the car. But Grrrmaneta and my husband are a good team and get out us out of there alive and quickly.

We make a stop at a big motorway restaurant, but regret it afterwards. It was so crowded, I hope we didn’t catch another souvenir. One of those viral ones you sadly cannot brag about.

After more hours in France, we finally arrive in Belgium. We see another A3 sign and I suddenly miss Spain again. We’re not even close to home and I would love to get back already. The emotional support drum stick is helping in an interesting way – I am either holding it together with the steering wheel or tapping around somewhere. I might have a black and blue shoulder once we’re home, but it’s incredibly sooothing. Another thing I don’t expect anyone to understand. But I’m sure it is interesting to watch. Or disturbing – because my husband takes over in Lüttich and won’t let me get back behind the wheel until we reach our house.

At 18:30 we’re back in Germany. Another 3 or 4 hours and we are home.

We drive by Cologne and see the cathedral, but I still like the basilica and Zaragoza better. There. I said it.

We see another German A3 sign and it’s still not the same feeling as it was in Madrid.

We eat crap from our lunch box because we don’t want to stop anymore. We can’t even find a working toilet on any of the German motorways so we decide to just step on the gas and go. We listen to Arde Bogotá and talk about the concert and other things related. At about 22:15 we are in our street. The kids wanted to have some food at their grandparents‘ house so we leave them there and unload the car. At 23:45 all four of us are at home, sitting down and opening the last two estrellas to close this chapter of our adventure road trip to Spain.

9 – Bears, Bogopenguins and a ruined back

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Saturday, July 26th: Madrid was on our list because of Torre Picasso and because of the zoo. We wanted to see the Pandas. We didn’t plan to go there on the hottest day of our trip, but the tickets are already paid for, so here we go. Because of the great parking spot and the non-existing desire to drive through Madrid, we go to the near train station. But we can’t get a ticket. It’s either only available with an existing card or everything is so poorly translated (if at all) that we can’t make any sense of it. Neither in Spanish nor in English. So no train then.

We take Grrrmaneta on a tour of Madrid since we don’t get to the zoo otherwise. The parking spots are good, people are taking care that no one parks on three spots with a small car. At the entrance we are stopped to take a photo we could buy later on. The zoo is very nice, the Pandas are awake and we are happy.

Lots of other animals seem to struggle with the heat today, so are we. I have trouble breathing because the comfortable looking bed was the complete opposite. It somehow threw my back out and I can barely walk.

We see Penguins next and they must be Bogopenguins because it’s the day of a concert and they are already lining up at the door.

We make a stop to re-apply sunscreen and people are looking pitifully at us. (Well, if you knew what I probably did in a former life, you would say I totally deserve it.)

We are seeing Bears and Koalas next. After a trip to the zoo in Leipzig last week we are now counting sleeping Koala number 3 and 4.

Next stop aquarium. It’s quite cold here compared to the outside, very nice. But incredibly loud. My husband is asking if Spanish people in large groups are always that noisy, but I have only experienced them at concerts, so I’d say yes.

We see sharks, a Picasso fish and seahorses. It’s like a game of Bingo.

Heat and pain are unbearable. We decide to cut the trip short after seeing all animals we planned on seeing. We also decide to leave Madrid early in the morning.

On the way back we drive parallel to the A-3 leading to Valencia and dream about being finally at the concert next week. We pass a bus from a company called „Bogasbus“. This city is a bingo card.

The apartment is like the ice hotel, the airconditioning did work a miracle. We make dinner and decide to mess up the Youtube search history a bit by looking Arde videos. We kind of did something similar in Zaragoza when we went to a store and put an Arde Bogotá vinyl in the front spot of the display. It was very fun and didn’t hurt anybody.

My back still hurts, but the cold air in the apartment helps to feel a bit better. We have another Spanish beer at dinner which is apparently a bad combination with the excitement before, during and after the concert in the chat group. I’m writing a lot of nonsense, but also come to the conclusion that this is where the phrase „Las putas Estrellas“ must come from. I choose the couch for the night, but am longing for the bed in the Grrrmaneta. I haven’t sleep anywhere as good as in that car for a long time.

I read an article about the Bogofans and wonder if a newspaper at home would pick up an article about four crazy Alemans who drive thousands of kilometres to see a band in Spain? Someone suggests I should blog about my travels. I am thinking about it. My homepage exists, but it’s empty, Maybe a blog would be a good thing to bring it back to live. I will look into this when we’re home.