Wild mountain goats - you call this wild? Someone needs to start hunting these or they may lose their fear of man, and become marauding mountain goats! Still, it was nice to be at the top. No more climbing. And, a nice descent!

We were just up in these mountaintops and now we’re here, thru the miracle of gravity. I would love to supply a descent video but I don’t have my GoPro with. But it was exciting!

we stopped in the impossibly scenic mountain village of Valldemossa, split a sandwich and each had Coke and coffee. Once again - a tourist ripoff, 12€! (Not each, total)

The mountains in the distance, a corner of Bunyola at the left edge. On the right, hand-cut terraces, with stone retaining walls, usually with ancient olive trees planted on them. These go back certainly hundreds and perhaps thousands of years. There are many Roman ruins here. You feel a sense of your proportion to this world, and your tiny slice of time in it, when you traverse this land here.

We look back at one of the granite (I think) massifs. We just came from there, and now it’s only like 7-8 miles back to the barn. This descent was truly exciting! Iggy ran about 50 meters ahead, pointing out every crack in the pavement and maintaining a fast but moderate speed down the perfect, winding, scenic road. Moderate is fast for me these days and I have developed an allergy to pavement rash, so you can be sure I never closed the gap between us. But thrilling!!!

That’s Iggy on the left, and next to him, Martyn Irvine, the first Irishman to ever win a world cycling championship. I feel like a turd in a punch bowl in this photo. Nice kit, though!

Tourists here are dominated by the sun-starved Brits and Germans. Signs tend to be in a UK version of English, therefore.

If I look to my left when brushing my teeth this is what I see - never get tired of it as you can tell if you’ve read this blog before. Barcelona next stop