Where in the World Are We

If anybody had any doubts about whether or not heaven exists, I can tell you with complete confidence that it does. Turns out it is down here in Portugal along route N-2, north out of the coastal town of Faro. Its manicured roads dip and weave through rich corridors of wild flowers, broad leafed trees and rich soils in way that only a fine composer would lead a royal orchestra. Oh wait, or was riding over Pas de la Casa in Andorra with its 9,000 foot snow lined, alpine roads? With bluebird skys, views for miles (from what felt like the top of the world) and crisp thin air it seemed a bit otherwordly. I don't know, maybe it was riding through patchwork vineyards in southern France. You get the point. Finding an incredible stretch of road out here in the old world has certainly not been an issue. I'm probably getting ahead of myself though. Maybe I should back track a bit from where I left off in my last post here.

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