I observed that my front tyre was getting flatter and flatter, and when I was back on the tarmac with my mountain bike, it became untenable. I had to get off from the bike and walk it home the final 11½ kilometres. That was quite an ordeal. Not so much for the walking as such, but because of the burning sun. As I was walking, my fantasies of sitting at a bar in Cantavieja with a glass of carbonated cold drink in from of me just got stronger and stronger. Yes, I did carry water, and I could use it to wet my dry mouth, but it would dry out again in a minute.