The temperature was 36c and we'd been driving at about 80mph for well over an hour over viaducts through mountain tunnels with the snow capped, proud, tall Pyrenees on our right.
We were on our way to the fortress city of Jaca, our second last stop on our winding route home, part of the medieval route of Santiago de Compostela - a Catholic pilgrimage route from the 9th century - and the shrine of St James the Great.
We needed diesel. And in the middle of nowhere in mountains as if St James ordained it, lo and behold, there was the fuel station 30 seconds off the road. In we drove and saw the cafe sign. So fuel for the car and fuel for the humans.
It was clear from the looks and the attention that not too many foreign types stroll in here. It was nice being welcomed. I instantly noticed the proper espresso machine; I don't know the price in Spain but where I live one wouldn't have much change from £10,000. Certainly better equipment than Starbucks.
I mean a garage in the wilderness? It got better. Tapas: cod, potato and cheese croquettes, thick sliced Serrano ham within mini baguettes, real ace quality, and gherkins stuffed with canned tuna. We added two cafe con leche and a beer might have been two beers. All in all about £16.
The air con within was delicious for folks who live most of the year below 10c so going back out the heat thumped yet the mountains in the distance looked unreal as they glistened with snow.
Within a minute the car started to play up and enter limp mode. Bad fuel or bad luck but it needed nursed until home 450 miles ahead. St James was nowhere in sight and four garages in Jaca didn't give a toss. I'd never have thought of adding canned tuna to a gherkin but it works. read more