OUR modes of transport so far this trip have been many and varied.
As our numbers have grown to six family members, including two joining us from London, the count now stands at:
Planes: 6.
Trains: 20.
Cycle tuk-tuk: 2.
Cable car: 1
Cabs: too many
Ferries: 2
Quad bikes: 4
Donkeys: 0
Feet: 1 trillion steps between 6 over 24 days.
Buses: 4
Bicycles: 2.
Sailing boats: 1
But this morning we took possession of our first rental car. And what a nightmare.
The seven-person "people mover" we booked months ago for an 8am pick-up in Barcelona hadn't even arrived by 9.30am with the usually reliable car company.
We had planned an early start for the five-and-a-half-hour journey to seaside San Sebastián to the north-west to beat the weekend summer traffic. As a result, the cleaner for our apartment was due to arrive at 9.30am.
"No problemo," we said.
"We'll be long gone by then."
Stress-out No. 1: The four 20-somethings were left guarding four backpacks, one day pack, one suitcase and a carry-on sports bag in the gutter outside our apartment opposite busy Sagrada Familia Cathedral for two-and-half hours while we waited for a van that could be anywhere.
Then finally we did the paperwork, waited another "5-10 minutes for cleaning" that was really 30 minutes, inspected the vehicle for prior damage and drove out of the crazily busy main Sants train station carpark ... only to be cut off by a taxi and receive our first "beep" about 20 seconds later.
Luckily we took a portable GPS or we may still be trying to find the others.
From then on, it was smooth sailing ... until our first toll booth.
We wondered why so few cars were on the lovely smooth highway from Barcelona to Zaragoza, until we were hit with a 29.75 euro toll fee.
More followed: 9.35, 5.50, 3.65 and 2.15 for a total of 50.40 euro. We barely had enough cash between us to cover the unexpected cost at the unmanned booths and not sure what would have happened otherwise.
I will never complain about a Gateway Go Via toll ever again.
The next stress-out was whether or not we'd make 6.30pm check-in cut-off times for two different accommodation houses we had booked in San Sebastian.
Of course, we would always be cutting it fine. Toll stoppages and one pitstop for lunch wouldn't help and another was scheduled near Pamplona (of bull running fame and the 2014 festival traffic could still be our downfall).
Our accommodation had the phone engaged all afternoon so we couldn't even warn them of our possible late arrival until 5.30pm in a comedy sketch of incomprehensible English/Spanish. I think they got my name (?) but little else.
Even slowing down our English to a snail's pace can't overcome our Aussie accents, it seems.
Then, after dropping off two at their hotel, we became bushed at the beach - going around in circles to avoid one-way streets and wondering why the GPS wanted to send us down another.
That was until we sent the remaining two on a search mission and realised we were in a complete no-car zone in Old Town and the GPS had switched to the foot route.
And the hits kept on coming when our accommodation was overbooked and we were forced to sleep four to a room for the first night in another establishment across the alleyway.
The "you can sleep for free tomorrow night" speech somehow got lost in translation over the next 24 hours.
But San Sebastian's easy-going attitude, carefree promenades by the waterways and beaches and tasty pintxos spread across long bars with Iberian wines to wash them down has won us over rather than left a bad taste in our mouth. Thankfully.
Time to eat, drink and be merry again until the wee hours ... and fall down asleep.
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