OK, a winding road ...

In case you were wondering, it's about 1,230 miles to Percé, Québec, and 1,393 miles to Sanibel Island. I'm not sure, but I think Percé may be where my dad and I went to see an old woodcarver and his wife in 1983. And where we ordered burgers with oignons in a restaurant where not a drop of English was spoken. A story for another day ...

As I was saying yesterday, J and I decided to spend a couple of days in France. We had no plan so we met with Josu, Nacho and César, the guides assigned to our group, to see how we could go about getting a car and to get some ideas of things to do.

Ugh. I really wish I had my dang journal. Where is that thing? Anyway, Nacho made arrangements for a car rental and sent us to the train station to pick it up. While we were waiting for the paperwork to be completed, I found a lovely Michelin map - in Catalan - of France. We got our little Citroën, and - oh my God - I never thought we'd make it out of Barcelona.

Yeah, you're probably thinking that too. Because I have to go get ready for work now.