Spanish coast SW

First time we forgot something and left the locks behind at Isla Cristina. I am sitting sunning myself by a beach at La Antilla while gary is pedalling back to the little hotel Paraiso where we had a bed to sleep in, the first for a good month! He'll be at least two hours. I kept his heavy bike bags to give him wings and this break gives me time to write.

We will continue for a day or so along the Spanish coast before going up to Seville for a couple of days to see the city before the flight back to Toulouse on the 23rd.

We are looking forward to seeing all our french family and Sacha and little big man baby Lucas are coming over from Quebec!

Dawn will be forty on the 28th,so a big celebration to come. Little viggo, Daisy and J's new baby has totally changed since we left.

Looking back over the last 5 weeks, lots of colourful memories come to mind and warm scents of pine trees and sardines on the grill, not to mention the fresh salty tang of the air. I became so keen on  sardines that i decided to use 'sardine' instead of 'banane' as my cycling mantra up tough hills. I gave it a go but soon went back to 'banane, left push right push,banane,left right........etc,etc

We complained about the rainy weather in the basque country but have other memorable images of that beautiful rugged coastline. When we finally climbed on  that first hot day to 400 meters above the sea from Irun, I can remember gazing down over the green drop to the dark grey/blue sea below and seeing a clear pattern of white birds' heads bobbing far below like a strand of pearls.

People were often warm and supportive, giving us the thumbs up sign when we reached the top of a hill as they drove by in low gear. 

Before leaving Portugal, we avoided one stretch of the coastal mainroad by following tracks across the salt flats finally ending up on a sandy beach opposite one of the flat islands in the group called the ria formosa. When I was waist high in the crystal clear waters, fish were swimming past me in all directions following the ebbing tide round the islands.

Some of the undrained flats were a deep red colour,right next to another rectangle of bright blue water. I have never seen nor eaten more fish than on this trip!

We now find ouselves south west of Seville in an extraordinary village El Rocio, suggested to us by Olivier , Martine and Pierre who met up with us near the spanish border.What a pleasant surprise to meet up with friends and neighbours by a beach in Portugal, so what did we do? Went and ate indian curry together!

Next day we took a ferry from Ohlao out to the islands and walked along a sun drenched beach together and had a picnic!

Going back to the present, El Roncio is very like an old mexican pueblo with vast areas of sand surrounding an old white walled church.There are mules pulling carts full of visitors, beautiful horses prancing by and enthusiastic flamenco style singing in the church, loud bells ring out over the marsh land and guns go off frequently to scare the pigeons away. Gary was forcibly ejected from his bike twice in thick sand! Just a few scratches.

We have cycled north to get here next to Donana, a national park full of scrub, pines, storks, flamingos and the odd lynx. In a couple of days we'll arrive in Seville and spend 3 days there before flying home. Will finally have lots of tapas and gaspacho!

So look forward to seeing many of you soon

Down the road.......

Anna

Salema

After finally being totally intoxicated by the sun, we are also immersed in the wild, cold Atlantic sea where there are big rough and tumble waves that are indulged by fabulous looking bronzed creatures on surf boards who could be perfect candidates for any advert depicting health that, we have discovered, coming from all over the planet to ride the waves or anything else they can get to ride in an apparent evenings past time if some of our campsites are an accurate source of information. But alas, my dancing fingers are getting the best of me as we are enjoying our morning cup of coffee here in a coffee shop Anna has discovered which she has the uncanny knack of doing in each port we arrive in, this one, Sagres, Portugal, which is the furthest point West you can get in Europe and where the sunsets are spectacular as in a Japanese pastel painting and the warm and alternating cool evening breezes that make for extremely wonderful sleeps and lazy mornings.I'm being called by Anna to get my ass in gear as she is astride her bike, pedals reving as we make our way to our next destination, Salema.

We never did Lisbon as when we arrived at seven thirty in the morning, after me sharing my bed on our first class match box compartment with the front wheel of my bike, not my first  choice, we were totally convinced finding lodgings wouldn't be a problem, UNTIL, reality began to set in after one 'complete' after another and we sought refuge in a bike shop hoping the proprietor would be able to guide us. His advice, 'GET OUT OF LISBON!' which is very bike unfriendly and IF we did find a place to stay, the cheaper ones could be on the fourth floor, not fun to lug bikes and bags! Following his advice we found ourselves on yet another train, very bike friendly, where we found ourselves after an hour ride stopping at every small station what would turn out to be the start of our adventure in the sun, SETUBAL!

We were hungry towards 3pm and saw a sign for a menu at 7.50 euros, didn't realise then that it would be the best value so far! Chilled white wine,  salad, big plate with grilled fish, new potatoes and greens, followed by lemon mousse, then the waiter gave us a glass each of a local port wine on the house!

Spent a day cycling to  beautiful beaches near Setubal, then took a boat over to the mainland south of the port. A long ride south followed on from there through sandy flats with the surf pounding onto empty stretches of beach for miles. Days later, the land showed signs of  baked brown grass and knotted pine trees, golden brown cattle grazed on these tough prairies.

The surf was hard to swim in as there's a strong undertow but it was lovely to hear the surf  pounding all night long beyond our tent. Since then we have seen the landscape  change to forests of pines and eucalyptus giving off a heady odour in the heat of the day. Riding has been a combination of flat, rolling hills to some awfully steep climbs hoping around each corner would be the top. Each day we stop for picnics and end up at a campsite usually in enough time to set up camp, drink a beer and frolic in the exploding surf and laze about in the very fine hot sand until we make our way back to camp to shower and prepare to look for a place to eat our evening meal. We've eaten more sardines here in Portugal than we've ever eaten in our lives, they are so so amazingly good and CHEAP! 

We climb into our tents around 10:30 and sleep a cozy sleep until round bout 7! I'm up around first and prepare the teas and we laze around depending what's planned for the day. We're not looking at the kilometres covered on this trip, only curiousity of the next place down the coast that gets us moving. Today we're in Salema in a beautiful gorge surrounded by lush green shrubs and palms with the sea very close by. Tomorrow we're off to Lagos for a looksee and we'll decide then if we stay or move on eastwards.

down the road........

G&A

Escape from Bilboa

Our escape to Bilboa was supposed to be just that, an escape! EXCEPT, we were greeted to filled hostels, filled hotels, campsite miles out of town and, RAIN! It got to the point as it was approaching seven in the evening, light rain and nothing but COMPLET ringing in our ears and seeing with our eyes places we could spend the night, like a store front with a set back entrance where we could shelter from the rain. Our very last shot was a hostel far from where we were but where some people were certain we could find shelter. It isn't easy getting directions from people anyway...... try doing it in Portugese which sounds like a combination of Italian and Russian. Somehow we get by, and low and behold we find the hostel. Its in a 'interesting' part of town but, a bed is a bed as they say in Hebrew! Anyway, NO LUCK, AHHHHHH!! BUT, on the other side of town, an hours ride away, up yet another very steep hill there was a new hostel and the guy offered to call and, YES(!!!!!), there were two beds available and like all hostels, a mixed dormitory situation which to our ears was a better hotel than my nephew Scott ever stayed in, especially when considering our alternative! Nope, no swimming pool but we'd had enough of water! Our only task was to get there which we did but considering the reaction of the people when we asked the way, they all pointed up! We were kept moving by the shere thought of arriving and to give you an idea of the difficulty, remember, we're pushing loaded bikes weighing in at Anna's, about 65 pounds me at around 80 pounds, at some point the town provided elevators in the street because for some, like us, the steps were impossible!

From the elevators we had about a kilometer to climb but hey, piece of cake! What a relief to find a hostel, although far from the center of town, brand new called 'all iron' but far from its rather Soviet look, the people working there were helpful and sympathetic! 

We showered, showered and showered then found a resto where anna tucked into a large hamburger as rare as possible and I ate some fish accompanied by more than one glass of beer! We dragged each other home and I in particular fell into my bed and woke the following morning still fully clothed. We wanted to visit Bilboa so we extended our stay in the hostel for an extra night.

The following day we walked all over Bilboa taking in the sights mainly around the river running through the center of town. In particular we loved the Guggenheim Museum but unfortunately it was ONLY the building that really impressed us and NOT the exhibits!

The following day we had decided to leave Spain and were convinced to take an overnight train to Lisbon and virtual guaranteed sunshine. The bikes do add complications to a trip BUT, bikes are not allowed on trains or buses unless packed, which is a nightmare in itself. However we were told that if we paid for the bikes as  passengers we could get a whole compartment and could take the bikes without packing them. This was almost right as we found out when we showed up at the station an hour before departure. It was cheaper to buy two first class tickets and then we could store the bikes in our first class compartment, which we obviously did! That is until the train arrived and the conductor told us the bikes needed to be taken apart as they would NOT fit into the compartment as they were. I thought about an argument, Futile(!!!!), as when I looked in through the window, he was dead right! I had an hour to take the bikes apart and when we loaded up, including having to use our tiny private shower and bathroom as storage space as the whole compartment wasn't much bigger than a match box, with bike bags all over the place, we were on our way.......!

We arrived in Lisbon at seven thirty in the morning, enough time to put the bikes together, have breakfast and find a place to sleep, much easier said than done, as they say......! After trying for a couple of hours with the same 'ol story, COMPLETE, we thought we'd ask in a bike shop if they knew of any places. The owner of the shop spoke perfect English and had a lot of experience biking like us, he in no uncertain terms said, "get out of Lisbon!" Unfortunately as Lisbon appears to be a really beautiful place, we agreed and he directed us to a local train, bikes free and our tickets pennies and we then found ourselves bound for Setubal where we spent two delightful days in a small cheap guest house accompanied by very blue skies and very bright sunshine complete with gorgeous golden beaches a few hills away! which is what we've been hoping for right from the beginning and as we're a few days on, we feel we've arrived and have done some great biking!

down the road....

 

 

Bilboa

We're in a bar/restaurant here in Bilboa where we're trying to decide, beer or wine. Anna took the unbeatable glass and COLD San Miguel, on tap, ask my brother Steve if you can really tell the difference between tap and bottle, and me a glass of wine, Crianza, Spanish origin, cool and refreshing; normally never cold for a red wine in france BUT boy, was it good! But hey, I'm jumping ahead, way ahead!

We're on what some refer to as an adventure, "an unusual, exciting and possibly dangerous activity." It has been unusual, yup, it has been exciting, to say the least, and it has been dangerous,  not to over exaggerate,to a certain degree. If we put all that has happened in the short week we've been on the road it would be a very long unintended blog. We've done ALL but a bit over 100kms including the toughest, most difficult biking we've done so far. They say it rains a lot in this part of the world, yup, rain it does! They say there are hills in this part of the world, THERE ARE HILLS! Put the two in a days ride and you have some tough biking coupled with the fact that setting up a tent, in the rain, when you're exhausted, is NOT fun! Then you sleep, listening to the rain drumming interesting rhythms, hoping the tent keeps the rain out, which it did! Ahhh, the morning and there is an opening where the rain has stopped and we can pack up, accompanied by wet gear and a bit of mud! We just make it before the rain starts again so we bike in a downpour to a cafe where we drink our daily cup of coffee accompanied by bocadillos omelette sandwiches which we devoured and at the same time we kept looking out hoping there would be one of those short let ups, which there always seems to be.

Going back to the struggles uphill, we ran into a cycling club from Guernsey on our way to Zumaia, a small port. They overtook us on a long steep climb but when we finally reached the top, they, about 30 of them, were all in a layby and were all  clapping as we appeared. G, who had gone ahead, was already up there eating a banana they had offered him of which he gave me a much appreciated half! 

Another camp site and more rain which we were getting 'slightly' tired of and began talking about an alternative plan for a number of reasons. The first was that many people we spoke to reminded us that we were in the Basque country and it rained a lot! Having just come from our home in the Corbieres where it hadn't rained for about two and a half months, that fact didn't quite register with us. There was also the steep hills which we wouldn't have minded had it not been for the rain! So with water, mud, winds and steep hills, considering we were only out for six weeks, we were seriously considering jumping on a train or bus to Bilboa and then another train or bus to Lisbon where we would bike over to the Algarve, in the deep south of Portugal. 

While biking the following day we ran into two bikers that had arrived by train directly from Irun where we had biked from. They were told by other bikers to skip over that part of their trip as being too tough to ride, especially if, like us, they were on a short trip. When we were exchanging war stories about our trips and we mentioned the thought of jumping to Bilboa, they said there is a train in 20 minutes that was 50meters from where we were that would take us and our bikes there. Anna looked at me and we both shook our heads, said very quick thank you's and goodbys and the next thing we knew we were tucked away on a little local train happily bound for Bilboa.

We're well, a bit damp and smelly but so far enjoying the 'adventure'....

down the road.....

G&A xox

don't post a reply. send us individual replys for this trip.

next blog......... found the sun!

First ride

On the train,  just opened my eyes after a short snooze while listening to the mesmeirising sound of the trains wheels humming along. the bikes are happily tucked away in a compartment, their bags under our seats. sitting here trying to realize the moment, not quite getting there but close enough.

First off I need to thank everyone that on many different levels gave us a helping hand. Ever since my birthday party I've been meaning to pen out something but ended up, due to brain overload, deciding to wait for a relaxed moment. What's more relaxing than a comfortable train journey with six weeks biking in front of us from, in case you didn't know, Irun, Spain, and NOT Iran! That will be the next trip around May. Anyway we're hoping to make it to Lisbon in Portugal. But really you are all reponsibe for the big push and the only words that come to mind is a great big, deeply felt, THANK YOU!

Tonight we sleep in our new tent, our new top of the art matresses, cooking pots and all that is needed to insure a comfortable night on a satisfied stomach!

*a couple of days later........... 

Our first day out on the bike was placed right on top of the pile, along with northern Laos, as some of the most difficult biking we'd ever done!!! Perhaps it was the fact that it was our first day out, don't think so, perhaps because we're a bit older, perhaps, or could it have been the fact that the reason it took three hours in stifling heat to go eight kms was because the gradient of about seven or eight percent was unforgiving!!! We're not sure how we made it but indeed we did; try to imagine the jubilation as we gave each other high fives as we stood on wobbley legs having difficulty putting one foot in front of the other! As difficult the ride was, on the other side of the ledger was the fact that the sheer beauty of the landscape was breath taking which we had stopped to absorb several times as a result of tired legs but we were rejuvinated by what we were seeing!

Just to add a word, Anna here, we cycled along a steep ridge that looked down  a 400 metre drop to the great blue atlantic stretching away to the far horizon. several small herds of thickset palomino poneys and cattle with finely curved horns for company. so green here after the parched hills of the Corbières. i stopped a couple of times to stretch out under the sturdy clumps of pines feeling wretched and nauseous after the effort.

Next we needed to find a camping spot in a narrow port between high cliffs but a flat piece of land was miles out of town, NOT AN OPTION! We thought of a cheap hostel/hotel but the only one available was up a lot of narrow flights of stairs , 'escalentes!' which wasn't an option considering the bikes and bags. By this time it was getting late and I began to accept the fact that a bench that bordered the ocean was a reasonable option UNTIL, Anna spoke with someone who said there was a hostel for pilgrims on the ..santiago de  campostella trail  and perhaps we could find lodgings there or the very least a bit of grass to pitch a tent. The downside was the fact that it was up about forty steep narrow steps but Anna decided to give it a go while I looked after the bikes and watched a group of kids diving for money locals and tourists threw into the water; most of the time they came up empty handed! Anna came back wondering how her legs carried her up the stairs BUT, even though the hostel was full, the woman in charge offered tent space just in front of the hostel AND she said there was a road around the back and there we would avoid the steps. The thought of at the  very least a cold shower got us moving. The road out of town was ok but if it hadn't been for two fine local ladies that took us to the path, we would never have found it. Half way up the rather steep path, when we were forced to push the bikes, we came to another set of dreaded stairs! Not as many but at least fifteen where we had to carry the bikes and bags seperately making about four trips each; both our legs were singing! However the piece of grass she offered us was so steep it was almost like standing, not to mention the hidden dog shit we had to clean up first! As much of a joke as it was, the tent was up UNTIL, a lovely lady came up to us to ask why we had set the tent up where it was and not around the corner in front of the church where it was flatter and virtually no dog shit. You see, dogs don't shit on sacred ground! We looked at each other, shook our heads in affirmative unison and proceeded to dismantle the tent and drag it to its new site! We were rewarded by a WARM shower and then ran our butts off, down those fucking steps and drowned ourselves in a couple of COLD beers before ordering food and a bottle of wine to boot!

Up the stairs but this time we were totally merry as a result of the alchohol and we knew there was a comfortable bed, ahem, awaiting us. We literally fell into the tent and slept fully clothed until the following morning where we were met with, "there is a serious storm coming this afternoon so find a campsite in San Sebastian as the rain is predicted to last at least three days! We decided to hoof it to San Sebastian where we would hopefully find a cheap pension to stop for three days rather than in a tent. We got lucky first try thanks to the tourist office and yes, the storm came, while we were snoozing on the beach after our first dip in the Atlantic Ocean. We made it back to our room, a little damp but thrilled with our decision. We took the room for three days so we'll get to see San Sebastian which has already presented itself as a pretty impressive place.

We are both feeling more relaxed and feel it's really nice to be back on the fully loaded bikes with the many unforeseen adventures that come with it. We weren't going to do a blog but reversed that decision after  friends asked us to stay in touch and we decided this was the easiest way. Normally we do blogs when we're raising money for a charity which we'll do on a proposed bigger ride next May. So save your money until next May and hopefully get a bit of pleasure from coming along on this ride.

Hope you're all well. We're warm and dry!!!

Down the road........

g&a