Ian traveled toward a pass through the Pyrenees.

Behind him stretched difficult, hazardous, slow travel--weeks of it.

Behind those weeks lay the voyage to Lisbon, and from Lisbon in a second boat north to Vigo.
From Vigo to this day of forested slopes and brawling streams, steadily worsening road, ruder dwellings, more primitive, impoverished folk, rolled a time of difficulties small and great, like the mountain pebbles for number.

It took will and wit at strain to dissolve them all, and so make way out of Spain into France--through France--to Paris, where were friends.
Spanish travel was difficult at best--Spanish travel with scarcely any gold to travel on found the "best" quite winnowed out.

Slow at all times, it grew, lacking money, to be like one of those dreams of retardation.