Which Path to Take Next

Daily miles: 31.94 | Total miles: 14,097.63

I got up just after 6am, had a cold coffee, got ready, and started running a little after 7. There was some wind to begin with, but it was supposed to ease soon.

The hotel was located in an industrial zone before Perpignan, surrounded by highways and the river Agly, so I first had to find my way back onto a proper route. Shortly after reaching a pedestrian tunnel under the highway, I decided to take a bicycle path—without really knowing where it would lead or if it would bring me into town. After about a mile, I knew: no. So I turned around and tried again.

It’s interesting how we make decisions—and based on what. On this world run, one of the most underestimated challenges is how many decisions you have to make every single day. Some days it flows, others it doesn’t. Navigating from A to B while pushing a buggy presents obstacles constantly, and like the wind or bad weather, it’s something I don’t talk about much. It doesn’t help to dwell on it—you just have to deal with it, one obstacle at a time.

Today, I switched between bicycle routes and car navigation a few times, which wasn’t the best idea. After going in circles for a while, I had to kindly remind myself: maybe it would help to just make a clear decision and stick with it. Eventually, I found my way back onto a proper road—after some fields, rough gravel, and a bit of improvisation.

There’s always a trade-off in every decision we make.

Later, back on a bicycle path in nice weather, two people suddenly clapped and started filming. I stopped and said hello. They had read on my shirt what I’m doing, and Sonia and her husband invited me for a coffee. Perfect. If it hadn’t been for all the detours earlier, I never would have met them. They run a windshield repair business, and sitting there, having a coffee, reminded me of my good old days in the garage. I really appreciated that short pause.

Then it was back out for the remaining miles. The running felt good—steady, warm, even getting a bit hot. Perfect conditions. I hope for many warm days ahead to finish this journey. Running into Spain under the sun felt like a good omen.

About ten miles before the hotel, I stopped for groceries to make sure I had enough food for the next couple of days. With Easter Monday, I wasn’t sure what would be open, so better to be prepared.

Then came the final stretch. Running through Le Boulou, it suddenly hit me: Au revoir, France—Spain is just ahead. I had the biggest smile on my face. The running felt light, almost effortless.

The last few miles climbed up into the mountains toward the border at Le Perthus. At the top, just a few police officers—no checks, no barriers. An open border. I love it.

And just like that, I was in Spain.

I threw my arms up, yodeled, and ran downhill, full of joy. Some drivers saw me and joined in the excitement. I stopped for a moment, taking it all in, then continued—flying down the road. The energy was high, the sun was warm, sweat running down my face, and I felt completely alive. A true runner’s high.

A bit later, I stopped to buy water—I was really thirsty—and continued toward the hotel. Just before the last roundabout, a police car slowed behind me, making it hard for other cars to pass. I looked back and asked if they wanted me to stop, but they just gave me thumbs up and cheered me on. That made me smile.

After the roundabout, they pulled up beside me and asked if I spoke Spanish. “No, sorry,” I said—but I could tell they wanted to connect. So I stopped. I told them I’m from Switzerland, and they said, “Welcome to Spain.” I loved that. We took a photo together, and then I ran the final few meters to my hotel.

No Wi-Fi again, and a slow connection. Beet salad, olives, and bread for dinner. Then a coffee. Time to rest.

That was a great day.

I’m excited about running across Spain. Let’s go.

Thanks for checking in, Andrea