If it's Tuesday, it must be Andorra. Let's see, it's been 12 countries in 13 days, probably a record for me, exceeding even my traditionally hectic pace. Perhaps it is even a pace which exceeds that of most rock stars, U.S. Secretaries of State or even the Pope.

The Pope, by the way, was someone I was fortunate enough to see speak last Sunday in St. Peter's Square (which, as it turns out, is actually an oval). He had the normal things to say -- be good and don't make war. He was just a tiny guy on a distant podium in front of a full square of people, but was large enough to be seen on the big-screen monitors. He doesn't appear to be in the greatest of health, and his words (spoken in both Italian and English) sound a bit slurred, but he still seems to have spunk, and at his ripe age he's been an inspiration even for this agnostic for being a more active traveler than I have been -- he's visited something over 120 countries.

After Rome, I overnighted on a train to Toulouse, France. Toulouse ended up meaning "to lose" several hours as I mistakenly boarded a wrong train that cost me half a day from my plans. Still, a bad day traveling is better than a good day at work. I saw some different sites than I had expected and caught up on reading and sleep.

Andorra is another of those tiny little countries about which one wonders when one first sees it on a map. Nestled between France and Spain in the Pyrannies mountains, it mainly functions as a duty free haven and ski resort. Their prime language, Catalan, is a hybrid of Spanish and French, which they also speak. Also, many people in this polyglot country dabble in English as well. I'm always amazed at how many Europeans prefer to listen to American or British rock 'n roll, even if they don't know a word of English.

Andorra has two heads-of-state -- Princes actually -- one appointed by the French government and the other somehow affiliated with the Catholic church, an arrangement that's functioned for hundreds of years, so who's to argue? They also have two postal systems, one Spanish and one French. Just make sure you put your letters in the appropriate mailbox for the country who's stamps you are using.

After failing to read the fine print of my train-to-bus connection, some local women suggested that if I didn't want to wait four hours for a bus, I could try "auto-stop" (hitchhiking). That suggestion was all it took, and after a half-hour, despite my grubby appearance, a Frenchman picked me up and drove me to the mountain pass (at around 8000 feet) from where I immediately caught a ride with an Andorran geologist. Quite a few people along the road were hitchhiking.

I had a good day skiing. At $24 per day, lift tickets are a bargain, less than half the price of skiing in the Rockies. And the mountain scenery is spectacular.

Now, I'm back to the city where my overseas travel began 14 years ago, Barcelona, probably the most under-appreciated city of Europe. I put it nearly on a par with Paris, Rome or Prague, but it rarely gets mentioned when people speak about Europe. It was strange seeing my Spanish teacher today after 14 years. I also had hoped to connect with the woman who hosted me in her home, but she is apparently out of town. Amazingly enough, she still lives at the same place and, equally amazingly, I managed to find it amongst look-alike streets, purely from my recollection and without the aid of a map or an address.

It's great to travel, but don't try it at home! I've had a great time this trip, but I think in the future I'm going to try to travel less extensively and more intensively, with less railing and more cappacino drinking.

Buenas tardes,
Deano