Hotel Eurotel Silken Les Escaldes

... never French. As in Barcelona, though, the main language is Catalan, one of Andorra’s few claims to fame. For me, though, it has another claim to fame. THIS IS MY 100TH COUNTRY!!! WHOOPPEE!! BREAK OUT THE CHAMPAGNE!!! As it is, I’ll settle for a decent meal and a decent night’s sleep. At least I have a decent room for a decent price, so better than the last night in Barcelona and no small consideration for any ...

... days will get some entries soon.

Today, we started from France, and drove a few miles into Andorra. So we have now done 10 of the 11 countires!!

Photos to follow, I'll just go back and put some news on the other days, then get photos loaded up. That takes ages.

... the watershed and we drop into the Spanish frontier town of Bourg Madame. We continue east across a wide plane undulating over the Col De Llous (1345m) and the Col De la Perche (1570m). From here a unbelievably long descent takes us nearly al the way to our
hotel. Prades has a reassuringly Mediterranean feel about it, with lots of courtyard cafe's and
clay tiled roofs.

WHAT I EXPERIENCED:

... it's not really the waitresses fault since she obviously didn't know, but the waiters sitting inside knew I was out on the terrace and made no effort, and the bartenders that saw me first go in and upstairs also said nothing. Garbage! And I really don't understand how a restaurant could be closed on a Friday night! This was unfortunate, as the menu looked pretty good.

I wandered around, looking for a place to eat - I found a modern Italian ...

... Now.... 37 years ago Shane, Jerry and I thought we were in this village. We all have memories of being in Andorra da Ville but.... it weren't anything like what we see outside. Totally confused we spoke with a local today and discovered that all those years ago we were really only in a ski village near the border. We never did come this far in. Tomorrow we take that highway out of the country to France. Hopefully our fuzzy memories will be become clearer.

... Festa Brava hotel. I seriously considered going snowboarding, but it was just too late in the season and the snow, though plentiful, was just too wet for my tastes. So I wandered about town, dodging the hourly rainfall and taking in the sights. Not too much to be seen here, but nice to look around a place I had no idea even existed!

... hoping for a bar to magically appear before me. It just didn't happen. I ended up drinking a can of Portuguese Sagres in a small café just up from the bus station. That was it for Andorra really. There's not a great deal to say about the place, the only vaguely interesting thing about it is that it's a joint Principality governed, technically, by the President of France and a Spanish bishop. That's the only thing of note about Andorra- and it's not even that entertaining. I ...

... down the hill - bad idea. The visibility was very low and the snow was coming down cold and fast and the wind didn't help also. We walk for roughly half an hour before finding a lay by to stop in and it takes a matter of minutes to get a lift from a French guy. One the way down the mountain there is a T junction where one way heads towards Perpignan and the other back to France the way we came. Our driver is adamant that going with him back to ...

... and start communicating with us, I would use talk, but I unfortunately I don't speak French, Spanish or Italian. They go to bed pretty early so we spend the evening playing cards. Brits such at cheat, or the Romanians and Germans are good liars, im not sure which. The next morning leads to an early kid shouting wake up call, fantastic, what more do you want to wake up to, maybe French shouting kids. I join them for breakfast whilst Florin lay on ...

... last two weeks in Andorra without me. She and Slovakian Martina bought me cologne as a going-away gift. Klara had her medium-length hair tied out from the sides of her head like the wrapping on a small candy. She kept cutely yelling, "Ciao!" and running back to hug me. Her little head a big smile. "Ciao!" She'd hug me good-bye, get to the door, turn around, and yell "Ciao!" and hug me again. "Ciao!" One last hug. "Ciao!" One time more. "Ciao!" I'm gonna miss her. And - oh ...