Zaragoza

I got back yesterday from a whirlwind trip to Zaragoza, for a boy's night out with Charles. He's on holiday with his family in Catalonia, so we decided to meet halfway. I left on Friday at 11, and took the toll motorway from Bilbao to Zaragoza. Very expensive, it turned out. Despite the Michelin route planner's estimate of 3 hours and 23 minutes, it took well over 4 hours to get there, at an average speed of 140 km/h. Why do route planners always vastly underestimate journey times?

We'd booked a hotel in the centre of town, and I found it without too much trouble - Charles had arrived 20 minutes earlier - and by about 5 we headed off to have a look round. Zaragoza has some amazing architecture, and I was surprised at the Moorish influences, considering how far north it is. The cathedral is breathtaking. It was also very hot compared to Cantabria! On the way back to the hotel we picked up some refreshments to keep us going - bottle of scotch and a bottle of Diet Coke.

Half a bottle later we were ready to head out again. I'd looked up some concerts on the internet before I left home, which was a good thing because there were no listings whatsoever of pop or rock gigs in the local paper. I'd not heard of any of the bands, but one of them had a website where you could download a couple of their tracks, and they sounded good, so that was the one. We asked at the hotel reception where the venue was. It took them quite a while to find it, it wasn't in the phone book and they ended up resorting to the internet (now why hadn't I thought to write down the address?)

We found the venue and then wandered off for some dinner at an all-you-can-eat tapas restaurant. Yummy. I had melon and Serrano ham (lots of it), then escargots in spicy tomato sauce, followed by various meaty bits and pieces. Bottle of Rioja between us. Then it was back to the venue, which turned out to be no bigger than our living room, with a tiny low stage area. We'd missed the support act but - good timing - the main act was just about to start. They were four young lads with an incredible sound, a cross between Ash and Reef, with some Rush touches thrown in. Suffice to say we had a great time, along with the 18 other members of the audience (average age without us: 19).

After the gig we went over to chat to the band, as you do. Turns out they come from Torrelavega and their roadie comes from San Vicente. In fact his mum cleans the house of some Dutch friends of ours. Small world or what? We bought their two cds and got all the band members to sign them both. Did I mention we were a wee bit tipsy at this point?

By the time the band had packed up their gear and gone we decided to call it a day, rambled back to the hotel and crashed, like fully clothed and lights & telly on. Ahem.

Next morning we were both right as rain, although both a bit morning-after disconnected. Took full advantage of the lovely brekky buffet, then headed off for a final wander round the city before heading back to the cars to start the long drive home. I tried the non-toll road this time, but it was a horrible single carriageway thing with no passing spaces, so it was back on the toll motorway at the earliest opportunity.

At about 2 I pulled into a village in Rioja to grab a bite to eat, and had a surreal experience. In our part of the world, and I assumed that the rest of Spain was the same, you've got chic restaurants for going out to and cheap ones where you can get a good but simple meal. This village had about 7 chic restaurants, but none of the bars served food apart from some very dodgy looking tapas. I walked around it 3 times searching, and it was a lovely place, but had nowhere reasonable to eat. (One thing I did spot on a wall was a fly poster proclaiming 'Free motorway now!', which sentiment I could definitely appreciate). By the time I'd finished walking around, though, it was 3 pm and I'd pretty much got over my hunger, plus I'd run out of time, so I decided to fill up with fuel and pick up a snack at the petrol station to eat on the way.

Found the garage, but it only had high-carb junk food. Now I know I'd been quaffing Atkins-unfriendly whisky and beer the night before (not to mention the tacos at tea-time), but this was now and I decided to resist the urge to sugar binge, so I just got back in and kept driving. I stopped off at the El Corte Ingles department store just off the motorway in Santander to buy Carmen's birthday present, and managed to pick up one of those cheese snack sticks, which kept me going.

When I was nearly home Carmen phoned to say she and the kids were out at a hotel on the cliffs with a bunch of friends and kids, and could I pick them up. I went out to join them but was not exactly the life and soul, all I wanted was to go home.

When I finally got there though I still wasn't too bothered about food, and was too knackered to make myself anything, so snacked on yoghurt and hazelnuts.

Then this morning I went out for a long bike ride with Carlos and Rodolfo - managed to persuade Carlos to tackle one of the big hills - and again on an empty stomach, so I guess it wasn't really a surprise when my weigh-in when I got in showed I'd dropped 2.5 kg in 48 hours - 98.6 kg.

Today was another busy day, after the bike ride we went over to the Dutch friends who the roadie's mum cleans for, for paella in the garden. The forecast had been for sun, but this coast is apparently impossible to forecast, and it was cloudy and windy all day. We took about three different jumpers and coats for each of us, to cope with every eventuality. The kids had a great time playing with some other Dutch kids for a change, and we had a very pleasant meal .Not very Atkins again, but I was feeling cocky after the 2.5 kg.

At about 5.30 we went over to some other friends who had had a barbecue, although they'd had much less shelter from the wind than we had and had got a bit frozen. The kids played with their friends, but everyone was getting tired and tetchy by now, so it was a relief to get them home and quickly to bed.