November 11, 1996

Resolutions can last all year or they can last a day. I've always made a rule of forgetting my resolutions; who's to say if I keep them or not? But our highway resolution will long be remembered and, no, it didn't last.

At the tip of Spain we decided to take highways no matter what the cost. We remembered well, and not fondly, the mass confusion, the slowness, the forever feeling of the smaller roads, of tiny cities that didn't make the cut on our road map. Not again, we'd resolved.

But alas, there is nothing like a good punch in the money-belt to alter the state of mind and to forever render our resolution null and void. From now on, whenever we pass a toll booth, our minds will be reminded of the hit we took on Highway A7. How far did we go? Less than 200 kilometers. The price? 3510 pesetas (roughly US$28).

"Perhaps you're mistaken," we said. But toll men don't make mistakes. "It's automatic," came the reply. "Then perhaps your automatic is mistaken." A weak argument on our part and one we didn't win. John reluctantly slipped a 2000 peseta note through the crack in the window, and then, even more reluctantly, another. He held on tight until the last possible moment and then winced as he accepted a measly 490 pesetas in return. "Looks like it's side roads for us," he said.

With our van no longer on the highway, it was one car closer to looking abandoned. Our road map became our best companion. "Follow N340. Turn onto C246. Hop on the A19 toward Girona. Now left onto N11. No, no, circle again." Perhaps we went out of our way. But whatever it took, we avoided further punishment at the tolls.