In the papers today: 130 Flemish on the wing to Portugal. The airplane's wing, that is. Gentlemen, we have lift-off!
The flags go up: the first regularity stage takes us from the capital of fado along the Atlantic to Portugal's southernmost point. Taste the Algarve and you just know this is where you want to be...
Sevilla, queen of Andalucía, awaits us with arms wide open on the other side of the border. The route there is divine. It is starting to dawn on us: God is a Spaniard. Dios cervezas, por favor.
It is all uphill from here, through the land where the Moors brought beauty. Destination: the city that was the world's biggest a thousand years ago... Córdoba. UNESCO World Heritage, with the Mezquita as the absolute star. Whether it is Dios or Allah, the roads are still divine...
The convoy penetrates further into the mountains to Granada: the foot of the Sierra Nevada. This is where the masterly Alhambra triumphs: the fortress of the Moors that was conquered by the Catholic Monarchs in 1492. Now Spain could start looking at the New World, and so it promptly conquered the country where the Ford Granada was born... Things always end up coming full circle.
Our start was Atlantic, our landing will be Mediterranean... We cruise towards sea level, where Almería kisses the Costa del Sol. Another cathedral here - Dios really is a Spaniard - but also a delightful harbour, and a racetrack. Noblesse oblige...
This is where the third stage of your Grand Tour ends. Headlines in the Spanish papers: 130 Flemish on the wing. Wevelgem awaits, the future is bright. Duly noted: Almería 2020...