Quintin Jardine's blog

Some times stand out. Every so often you have one, and afterwards you can’t pick holes in it at all; not a flaw to be found. Try this one, my yesterday:

You awaken  in a nice spa hotel, hidden  five kilometres along an old camino from the nearest town, in a deep, tree-lined valley that stays mostly in shade until around nine. A leisurely breakfast is allowed to settle, and then you set out, under the September sun. You walk up a zig-zagging dirt road for an hour or so, (not too fast, no point tiring yourself out) until at the top of the small mountain that you’ve climbed, you find a sign-post. You take the direction marked ‘restaurant’ and you walk on until you reach it. By the time you’ve rehydrated, lunch seems like a good idea, so you eat, Catalan tipic, tomato bread and anchovies, then butifarra and chips. When that’s done, you walk back: there’s a bonus, in that most of it’s downhill; you did the hard work earlier. Back at the hotel it’s mid-afternoon, a nice time to sit on the terrace and absorb a couple of beers, and then to find a sun-bed in the garden and doze at the river’s edge, vaguely aware of Tomasz Stanko, and Jose Padilla, and Natalie Merchant on your iPod. You’ve walked about ten clicks earlier; you don’t want to stiffen up, but fortunately the spa has a sauna and a salt-water jacuzzi. There couldn’t be a better preparation for dinner, and a nice chilled bottle of Anna de Codorniu, to round everything off.

You see, Lou Reed’s not the only guy who can have perfect days. And did I say, Eileen, I’m glad I spent it with you?