Here we go.

I made it to Madrid, and didn't get lost, probably because I was on major highways the whole time. The French tolls killed me, I still need to fill up the gas tank, and I had a crappy pain au chocolate. The perfect chocolate croissant eluded me on this trip - very sad. I'll probably try again in the airport, and fail.  The best croissant I had was the chocolate-almond one that Ethan brought from France. That shit was excellent. I kept trying to get chocolate croissants from patisseries, but I'd either spot something that I needed to taste, or the person in front of me would buy the last one in the store.

So now I'm in a Holiday Inn Express. I hope that Sixt doesn't rape me tomorrow with extra fees, since there are scratches on the bumper and we may have exceeded the 100km/day mileage limit. I guess you just have to pay it and forget about it.

I'm sad to be leaving, but my thoughts are more focussed on the actual getting home part of getting home - not the inevitable post-trip depression that will set in. I'm not psyched to climb anywhere local, I don't want to go to the gym in the afternoons, and I will be going home to an empty house. Booo.

Wish me safe travels.