Wednasday 20th - Pyrenees, Spain's Crumple Zones

When we awoke, our wonderfully hippie hosts made us some breakfast and tea, before driving us out to "the best place to hitch to Spain". We were there for two hours with no luck for any destination. After walking for a while, we were picked up and taken to the next town. Still no luck for Spain, so we hitch-hiked slightly closer. Stranded, we were genuinely considering walking through the mountain range that separated us from our destination. After a while of walking, Aguet fell behind and found some Spanish hearse drivers that put us on the right road. It's odd being squashed in the back of a large hearse, knowing a corpse usually sits there.

By now, though, I was really starting to lose hope of reaching Spain tonight. Hitching in a mountain range was certainly made better by the outstanding scenery, but the sun was setting and we had only managed a couple of pigeon-step lifts. Just as I was eyeing up a nice bit of scenery to ruin with our tents, we finally got a lift heading to a small town just inside of the Spanish boarder, Vielha. We jumped out of the car, thanked our driver, Mark and his passenger, Roland and marched to the nearest field, just in time to put our tents up as the stars were beginning to show.

Now that we've finally made it to our next country, I'm feeling far more positive than only a couple of hours ago. I was starting to think we would never get out of France.