We're half way there, livin' on a prayer, take my hand and we'll make it I swear

Having driven the long way round to reach Spain, it has taken us six months to get here. We celebrated our six month milestone in France with a bottle of Blanquette de Limoux, the local sparkling wine that tastes like Champagne to those of us who know no better. The six months have gone by so fast and yet when we look back, we have packed so much in to those months, the day we drove on to the ferry in Dover also seems a life time away.

Despite the attempts by the banks to sabotage our trip by plunging the value of sterling lower and lower, we seem to be on budget: during the seven weeks we spent in southern France we averaged 310 Euro a week, considerably cheaper than Italy and Slovenia.

We have now crossed the border in to Spain, feeling ill-prepared language-wise, but excited to be spending time here, we can't believe it is 15 years since we visited this country. This excitement soared after we inspected the sanitary facilities at the camp site in Sant Pere Pescador; not only did the site provide toilet paper, there were toilet seats too! These are the priorities of two people in a small camper van.

We cycled in to Figueres to visit the Salvador Dali's Theatre Museum and spent a fun couple of hours in this strange monument full of paintings and montages without really understanding any of it.