And so the holiday comes to an end. The ride back to Santander and the ferry went smoothly enough and the weather pretty good for the crossing. Still not sure what people do for hours on cruise ships – there is only so much sitting around drinking and eating even I can do.
A few days in London catching up with friends and living the city life was a great contrast to Spain, and after all the hustle and bustle of the Capital I’m ready for the wide open spaces of Cumbria.
Had a great day watching my sister, Louise, in the marathon. There were thousands of spectators out so it was a bit hectic trying to get around but well worth it. She had a good race and was happy with a time of 3.26, fantastic! And more impressive still, that was her 35th Marathon.
So up at 4.15 this morning to ride to Euston for the first train. It was quite nice cruising through the city as the sun was rising on quiet roads. It’s looking a bit grey thoughas the train wends it’s way north…
Yesterday morning left Posada and tackled the steep climb out of the valley. Lots of snow on the verges and surrounding hillside, so as I suspected the offroad bit I wanted to do was blocked by snow. Stuck to the road option and up to the top of the next pass. There was a viewing area a bit higher still so rode the bit extra and took plenty of photos of the snowcapped mountains. Then it was more or less 25km of downhill to Potes, today’s destination.
While sitting in the square in Potes with a coffee, an American chap came up and asked if I could speak English. He’d spotted my bike and was also following the same route, seems like we’d just missed each other a few times. We arranged to meet for a beer later and I headed off to setup camp and have some food.
As I was about ready to head back to town I started to feel pretty sick. Then I was. So, Luigi, if by chance you end up reading this. Sorry I couldn’t make it. Without going into details, it wasn’t the most pleasant night I’ve had but I managed to make it into the tent by midnight and dose off.
This morning I knew I had to get moving and eventually set off about midday to somehow cover 50km running on empty. Just before the town where I knew I’d have to stop I saw a campervan in the layby with GB plates so pulled alongside and asked if they were going to Santander. They weren’t but were going pretty close and said I could hop in. So thanks to Peter and Margaret, who had sold up and were travelling around Europe, I made it to Santiliana – where I spent my first night. And now I’ve only 20 miles to cover. Phew.
You might have noticed I’m getting the ferry tomorrow rather than Thursday. Its been a great trip but I decided that I’ve done pretty much everything I wanted to here, apart from the offroad stuff which is blocked by snow. So thought I’d get to Londoon a couple of days early and try to catch up with a few friends. After last nights episode I’m glad I made the change!
Well, that restaurant was quite something. Very, erm, interesting menu. Starters was potato soup – which turned out to have mussels in it, still in shells. Next a mushroom omlette that had all sorts of crazy mushrooms in, opted for creme caramel for dessert – sounded safer than the local cheese.
Anway, what have I been doing today? Well, for a change I thought I’d have a walk. Posada is at the top of the valley where the Garganta del Cares starts. A massive gorge that cuts through the mountain range and it’s high on the tick list for all Picos visitors. Worth a look then.
I cycled the first 9km down the valley to Cain where the real gorge walk starts. Jorge the B&B owner had written me a note to give to his friend Romiro asking him to guard my bike, which was pretty nice. Bike safely stowed I set out on foot. The walk starts with a few tunnels and a chance to get wet feet and dripped on, after this it opens out into an amazing walkway cut into the side of the gorge, sometimes 100m or more up and with no handrails or barriers you’d better not stumble!
I made it to Poncebos at the other end, time for a quick coffee stop of course, then made the return journey. About a 24km round trip, depending which sign you read. (There is a taxi service that’ll drive you back to the start – but it’s miles round on the road and must take about the same as walking. Besides, where would be the fun in that?)
The weather was pretty good early on in the day and hopefully I managed to get plenty of photos of spiky rocks and big drops. Mid afternoon a huge downpour made everything a little damp. By the time I’d made it back to the bike it had more or less stopped and I rode back through the drizzle – uphill all the way.
As a treat tonight I took a photo of the village centre and it’s impressive backdrop. The B&B is the building on the left. I think the mountains are about 1700m and I’m riding over a pass at 1609m tomorrow so it might be a bit chilly up there, fingers crossed it’s sunny.
Today’s target was simply to follow Day 2 from the Cicerone guide. After an initially cloudy start, blue skies appeared and I was able to see the jagged rocky skyline towering above the gorge where I rode.
A quick coffee stop at a roadside bar and things seemed to have more of a holiday feel. 20km further along and not far off the 1206m pass summit I found a spot to stop and cook up some spaghetti and sat in the sun admiring the views. 10 mins after setting off again heavy rain swept in, higher up it turned to sleet and with the snow on the verges seemed a very wintry scene. But by the time I rolled up to the pass summit it had cleared again and I steamed gently while taking the obligatory summit photo.
Down a bit, then up a second pass to 1450m before a long descent into Posada to finish the day off.
In what seems to be a developing theme all hotels seemed to be shut, but I managed to find a B&B and ask to stay using my non-existent Spanish. Off to the only restaurant in town now – which doesn’t open til 9pm. Starving!
So yesterday didn’t quite end up as expected. I was on the road again about 11am. The bike being a bit heavier now after I’d stocked up on food and as most things come in multi-packs I’d got 3 cartons of juice, tins of olives,and jars of jam and pasta sauce. Non of that convenient de-hydrated stuff for me.
I reached the turnoff for Covadonga along an undulating road and set off up the climb, just over 1000m height gain in 20km, and used for Stage Finishes in past Tours of Spain. It sets off easy enough and after about 7km it steepens – I was really glad to be carrying all that shopping. Just before the last couple of km to the top there’s a cruel descent that loses some of that hard earned altitutde.
As I went on the weather worsened and by the time I got to the top it was raining and I was in thick cloud. I could only just make out the near shore of the lake. As I’d mentioned before the plan was to camp at the top. The Cicerone guide mentions permitted camping and a refuge. However, I couldn’t see further than a few meters and anything vaugely flat was waterlogged. I rode down a track to the Refuge, but that was closed up.
I put on loads of layers and set off back down the mountain aiming now for the campsite near the bottom. Once out the cloud, the rain eased and I weaved my way down an almost continuous 20km. Fun.
The campsite at the bottom was shut too, so the only option really was to find a hotel in nearby Cangues D’Onis. Found quite a reasonable place, then out to dine on a fixed price menu that included dessert and wine, not a total loss.
This morning I woke to the patter of rain on the tent. Not being in any particular rush I made a brew and some porridge from the comfort of my sleeping bag and waited for it to ease off.
I managed to get out the tent and cycling along the coast road by 11am. I stopped at a nice little town, Comillas, to pick up some food and had a coffee. The next section of road was closed for bridge repairs and there was a huge diversion. I managed to cut a bit off by climbing up a steep farm road then dropping down a wooded valley. It’s all quite green here and I could easily still be riding through Devon, if I wasn’t on the “wrong” side of the road.
A quick sandwich stop by the harbour in San Vincente then I left the coast behind and headed for the cloud capped mountains. The last hour saw more heavy showers but the scenery made up for it – following a road up a gorge cut deep into the rocks. Strangely, even though I was going upstream, the road seemed to be gently downhill.
Found the campsite, which was marked on both maps and in the Cicerone guide so I was fairly confident it would exist. Not a bad spot, has music in the toilet blocks – playing Robert Miles when I turned up, but by shower time it was more “Now that’s what I call Oboe”.
Stocked up with yet more food, possible wild camp in mountains tomorrow and I don’t want to starve 
The ferry journey turned out pretty good. After feeling a bit green early on I managed to find my sea legs and got used to the swaying and pitching.
Not sure how you’re supposed to go to sleep in a reclining chair though so I gave that up as a bad job and curled up on the floor, much better and only got trodden on once.
Off the ferry this morning and rode around Santander in the chaos, the place really comes alive when the ferry docks. Soon found the quiet road to the north that I was after and rode up lots of dead end roads to see coves and beaches.
There were lots of campsites marked on the map so I thought I’d have no problem finding one early. Not so, at one of the last options on the headland the lady said they too were closed and suggested I try a town 15km away. Raced off in that direction and found an open one, not marked on map. So first lesson, don’t trust the campsite icons on the Michellin map!
After a bowl of spaghetti in mushroom soup (I know, no shops!) and a couple of brews it’s time for an early night. Nice to lay on something that’s not moving.
Mountains or coast tomorrow, not sure – but I’ll try to remember to put suncream on my nose, it’s a bit red.
Adiós
Yesterday set out with a pretty mundane ride to Manchester to the train station. Just stuck to A roads to get there quicker.
4.5 hrs and a couple of coffees later the train arrived in Exeter and I started cycling towards Dartmoor. An hour into the ride I passed right by the hostel at Dunsford, it was already 7.30pm so I called in to ask if they had a spare bed.
Patrick the hostel owner was busy trying to round up his two mad dogs and after finally getting them inside told me that they had plenty of space and I’d have a whole room to myself – perfect. After a quick shower and wolfing down a bowl of couscous and tuna I spent a happy couple of hours infront of the wood fire drinking loads of tea and getting into my holiday reading.
Set off this morning after a bowl of porridge and crawled up some steep roads to the heights of Dartmoor. Whizzing down the hill through Postbridge I saw a sign for Cream Tea so grabbed the breaks and pulled in to consume two small scones and 4oz of clotted cream. I’m sure I’ll burn it off in a couple of days.
Not far then to Princetown where it was all pretty much downhill to the coast. I followed cycle Route 27 most of the way into Plymouth wich started with a great offroad descent to an old railway line that sloped gently downhill for miles to the sea.
So now I’ve boarded the ferry and am sitting in a deck chair on the helipad in the sunshine. Ideal.
Let’s hope it not too rough out there!
So, day 1 of the trip and feeling a bit lousy with a cold so decided to make the trip to Rossendale less painful by getting the train Preston. No need to make hard work of it this early on.
Just configured the blog before I head off this weekend. Been meaning to do it for ages but not had the time until now.
Posting this from my iPhone, which hopefully should allow me to make regular updates on the road.
