I love a good campsite

I spluttered out of bed, later than usual. Slow to unfold my aching body. The bike packing up routine i have pretty well down. I unpack as little as possible at night so the morning routine is short and easy. This is accomplished so much easier if the bike is in the room. Thank you to the owner of last nights hostel for allowing this.

Komoot often likes to take me on a convoluted route to the road i need to be on, often this involves stairs up and down twists and turns, usually to accomplish 5 meters of travel that i could of done by crossing the road. Today i thought this was the case, i ignored Komoot and got lost, and had to retrace back to the start.

The route today was flat over the Spanish plains. Beautiful rolling hills. Trees dotted all over the landscape.

I checked and rechecked that the campsite i was aiming for was still open. The sun shining on my back, perfect temperature for cycling.

As i got closer i sped up, such great views left snd right, then a roundabout and down a gravel track, i became dubious, i could see a gate that looked closed. It was open and i swung in, i looked at the reception doors and windows, firmly closed, im oretty sure at this moment my head sagged, but the tinkling of glasses and i turned and saw a woman clearing tables looking at me and smiling. The joy on my faces must have been radient.

She gave me a mug of chocolate and we waited for her husband to return to check me in. 20 mins later all checked in and this happened

But an hour later the storm had stopped my tent was up. I had showered in the immaculately clean shower block, my cycling clothes were washed and hung to dry.