I must say, I was glad of my cheapo Asda jerkin, as it was about three degrees above zero, up there above the "High Sierra", as I kept calling it (Jeremy periodically queried whether "High Sierra" was a legitimate designation). A thing you notice about Spain, aside from the delicious food, is the pleasing absence of people. Facilities, or "area servicios", such as this one, are routinely deserted in the manner of Midwestern towns like, say, Blackrock, and personally, I like it. I think wilderness and desolation are spiritually uplifting (as long as you can choose to return to the bosom of humanity whenever the mood takes you). I think Jack London understood this point, but, then again, he also understood the allure of liquor - perhaps he was aiming for that perfect mid point equilibrium between spiritual nirvana and outright oblivion (although, I think he never really achieved it, did he?).