Category: Spain 🇪🇸 ’23 The Vuelta

Riding across a country and into the next, and then into the next is how I derive my greatest pleasure.
But how easy to go to Spain to France, into Italy, but that isn’t the direction I want, or France, Spain, into Morocco, not that either. I want to perpetuate the fear of going to an alien country, working out their system, finding where to buy the food I like, finding enough water to survive, organising a sim card for my phone, learning a few words of the language to allow me to get by, learning the plethora of country idiosyncrasies you need to know.

In a recent conversation with Chris he said, Well you seem to like that never ending hardship. And I suppose I do.

It will come as little surprise to you that I am often drawn to the Middle East. My plan is to fly to Jeddah on the west, Red Sea coast, of Saudi Arabia, Saudi has only recently in the last few years opened its doors to tourists. Cycle around Mecca inland a bit to Taif high in the mountains around 2000 to 2500 meters up, I’ll see how cold it gets, it snows there, I might have to get to the sea. Then follow the mountain range to Abha and Khamis Mushayt in the South west corner. East across the Rub al Khali to just south of Riyadh, across and into the UAE then on to Muscat in Oman, this route is just over 3000 kms. I hope then to take a bus from Muscat to Salalah at the southern most tip of Oman and return cycling along the coast road back to Muscat (another 1200kms) and home. This last bit depends on time available. You may also know that I have been to Oman a couple of times before and it’s safe and easy for me to be there.

Some bike adaptions and updates to follow.

I stayed out late last night. Had dinner at my brothers house then left at about 8.30. That’s a out as exciting as my life gets, home by 9.15.

Packing, packing, packing. I have no idea what to bring, short sleeve, long sleeve, over trousers, puffa jacket, heavy or light weight quilt. Oh the list of my indecisiveness is long and frustrating. So finally I just went to bed.

More oscking in the morning. Finally I was ready to go at about 8.40, looked outside and it was pouring. I had another coffee and waited. Eventually at about 10 it looked dry enough so I just bit the bullet and left.

The 1st half was flat and along the Forth snd Clyde Canal. I stopped at Kirkintilloch for a coffee and chatted to 3 other cyclists braving the patchy weather.

Then on to Sterling.

Big shout out to the guy in the Giant/Liv shop for lending me a torque wrench. Just to straighten up my seat tube

Eventually leaving the canal at Banknock. I had a choice stop at a campsite at Comrie croft at about 90k or on to Glengoulandie at about 130kms. Yes of course I opted for the shorter. Arriving at about 4.30. More choices flat field near toilets or bit more sloping in the woods but further to walk. I opted for the field, ate food at 6 then moved the tent in the semi dart into the woods. 🤦oh the indecisiveness, grrrrrr.

Tomorrow looks pants so high chance I’ll stay here tomorrow and avoid the worst of 3 days (Wed, Thurs, Fri)

Tent is a bit slopy, hopefully that means it won’t be wallowing in water tomorrow morning.

I know I took no photos.

After that second day at the Vuelta my legs were feeling a little wobbly in the morning. When I woke rain was pouring down. The forecast was for dry. I waited till there was a lull at 10 then packed the bike and off. Of course it rained on the way.

The route profile looked all down, but I hadn’t anticipated the spikes, and lots of them and high. I was hoping to do 120k. By one I knew that wasn’t going to happen. The road kept going up, and my legs werw so tired.

I had highlighted 2 campsites I knew the further one was not going to happen. But I suddenly came upon the first.

I was lucky to get the tent up, still a bit wet from the last use. About an hour drying as I showered and all was fine.

Just enough time to wash my shorts, eat then sleep.

6am wake and left the campsite just as it was starting to get light. I had highlighted a campsite 10kms before Santander.

Today seemed flat on the route profile but there did seem to be a lot of bumps.

I really didn’t think toomuch, the sun was hot, I was definately tires

There were some beautiful towns and villages. This region really us spectacular. I was hugging the coast.

Then just as I got into Santander I got a little confused so was dragging my bike over a curb and a thorn got in. My back tire is paper thin now. 2500kms is it’s limit I think.

Komoot lowest to take you around the houses, especially when a straight route would suffice and also bike paths really confuse the issue. Anyway, I discovered the campsite i was aiming for was closed, so adjusted to my second choice another 15kms. As I got nearer I rode fasted, desperate to get washed and settled, getting close to 6pm 11 hours on the road. I charged into the campsite, passport, I’d drew out my debit card and the receptionist said, we only take cash. Just at the end of my ride I’m not the happiest of bunnies and I am sorry to say I flipped, yes there was swearing, yes I raged, threw my arms into the air, spat the dummy out the pram. The receptionist calmly said, there’s an atm about 15 mins drive away. This doubled my anger.

Bookings.com is my friend I’m now in an overpriced sleazy hotel 1km away from the ferry.

The 30k didn’t seem too bad to get to the end of the days stage of the Vuelta. Having learnt from yesterday I set off much later but still getting me to the top in good time to sample the atmosphere.

As I got to the bottom of the last hill I thought I’d give it a little push see how I fair. So I kicked on I passed a few people, also some passed me 🤷‍♂️. I feel a bit deflated when I hear spectators speculating it’s an ebike. I’m going to have to change my tool cannister so it does not look like a battery. But suffice that I know its all legs. But I have 2500km in my legs so I’m on the strong side now.

No pictures of the riding, sometimes it’s just good to watch.

When the last of the racers came past we were held for 20 or 30 mins before allowed to leave the compound. This is where the 30kms to get home become a bind. That’s 1000m of climbing a minimum of 2 hours. I was back riding at just past 6pm and all those lovely down hills on the way to the event were much less pleasant to climb on the way back. When I got in at 8pm just enough time to cook, eat, shower and bed.

Ready for the 1day of the 2 to Santander.

The Vuelta is way my favourite grand tour. TdF is a little arrogant, the Giro is a little prim but the Vuelta is feral, going to wild places, grinding its participants down till they are nearly on their knees then finishing in the magnificent Madrid. Wow.
I arrived at the 1km banner at about midday.
The Angliru the most feared climb in grand tour cycling. Way harder, in my view, than Monte Zoncolan, I only said this to agitate my Italian friends 😉.

I waited 5 hours when the riders finally came past. Waves of mist rendered it nearly impossible to see the road, let alone down it. What an atmosphere, nationalities of the world there all shouting for their heros.

Roglic and Vingegaard glued together then 30seconds or so and Kuss and Landa come past. What a sight athletes at the top of their game ascending a road with gradients so steep. It’s jaw dropping.

Did Sep ask the others to wait or to push on, who knows?

G did eventually come past, he looked tired and didn’t smile when i shouted bravo. Not easy to know what, if anything to shout at a time like that.

The ride down is pure mayhem. I was at the top so all below jumped on their bikes and hammered it down. I set off slow, near zero visibility, people stopping/people starting/people swerving/people under taking/people overtaking/pros with whistles hooning down the middle of the road fast. I was scared stiff.

5am rain smashing down on my tent, too ealy to get up, i hunkered down under my quilt and just like that it was 7.30. Still raining but reduced a little. I ambled across to the shower block, sat in the dry zone, cooked porridge and coffee. Garath and Tam cruised past, they were slow like me because of the rain.

But slowly the precipitation subsided and we all made s lunge to our tents and stuff to pack before more rain stopped our momentum.

I left just before them. My route went up sbout 300m then down 1000m then up 400m then down to my bnb.

Really the gradient was quite easy and as i hit the summit at 10am the cafe at the top was empty and from the outside looked pretty dismal. But it was my coffee time.

The descent was long and some pretty steep dowm gradients 17/13/15/10%s An articulated lorry with a trailer hooned it past me on a bend, personally i thought way too fast for safe, engage low gear descending. But i didn’t see him again so i suppose he survived.

Then came the second climb, a much smaller road with no gradient indicators. Only 5kms long but quite spikey at times, as i got close to the top i saw the goat on ther roof, then met 3 British tourists.

Cruised dowm to Las Mazas to meet my BnB host. All settled in for 4 days now.

I woke to the gentlr pitter patter of rain on my tent. I had fallen to sleep almost immediately after the England/Argentina rugby so waking i felt good but the warmth and comfort of the quilt wrapped around me was so enjoyable i stayed for a minute or two, but vertical was calling i packed and was put the campsite by 7.30. Its sort of nice not looking at the time.

Another flat and pretty nondescript day but the coffee stops were pleasant enough. The route went through León. In 2011 i rode the Camino de Santiago route that goes through León, i believe it was the first place i had Churos and chocolate. Unfortunately I couldn’t find the place again.

As a left town, i got excited and started to ride a little harder, then all of a sudden i hadxa littke wobble, it felt like all tge energy had sapped from my legs, i didnt feel dizzy i just felt really tiredand coukd hardly churn my legs around. I swung into a lay-by and sat down snd ste all the food i had as well as sucking honey from its bottle. I rested for 40mins or so then rode on defibately feeling revived. I did keep reminding myself i only had a few kms to go and so could just cruise.

But now I am safely tucked up in the Bosque de Gordon campsite. These 80km days are a breeze.

As i was ambling around the campsite, i heard some Welsh voices, i ambled over and shot a spray of questions, where, what, how, why?

Gareth and Tam were travelling the Trans Euro Trail, on their motorbikes. Looked pretty hard core to me and way too dangerous for me. We ate an evening meal together. So good the talk fast and really great to hear their adventures past and present.

The alarm went at 5.30. And i was out and riding at 6.45. I always guestinate an hour. I had coffee and porridge, that seems ok for me.

Especially in southern european countries just before sunrise and well really till 10 is the cyclists dream. Nearly nothing on the roads, for me, so far, the cars have given me a wide bearth. Seldom more than shorts and short sleeved jersey needed. The moon slowly dipping but the stars still out and gradually giving way to the sun.

Today the road was nearly flat and i charged along at a good lick. I was a littke worried as the first three towns i passed through i saw not a soul. But at the 4th town a cafe was open and next door a bakery, i gorged myself from both shops.

I had a cut of pork that was on display in one cafe, so delicious.

I had not really been concentrating on time or distance just enjoying the ride so when i saw a sign saying 30kms to the campsite i had decided upon, i was very surprised. Luckily i came to a town with an open supermarket i popped in and got supplies.

My front tire was losing a little air so i replaced a little tubeless fluid pumped it up. It lasted the 80mins to the campsite, let’s hope it lasts tomorrow.

There are are a few things i feel i am quite good at, but organisation really is not my friend. So yesterday as i was relaxing waiting for the rain to stop. I booked the ferry back to Portsmouth (17th Sept), messaged Luke asking him if its ok to stay a day or 2 (of course it will be his first few days of term), and booked 3 nights at an Airbnb 12-15th Sept in close proximity to the Angliru (surprisingly harder to do than expected) and researched campsites along the route to the bnb at reasonably sensible distances.

The 1st day of the 4 days to the bnb was fast and furious. So flat and beautiful agricultural land spreading out ahead, as always i started early and as i sped through towns there really was no one about. I found a cafe open, attached to a petrol station.

For some reason i lost my sequencing and i left my coin purse there, i discovered 5kms from the town, i didnt have the enthusiasm to return to get it as only €3 in it.

I pressed on, seeing the distance and time is never good as it makes me think, ooo i wonder if i can get to the campsite by, 12 in this instance. I push harder, it really wasn’t that tough and i was enjoying it.

I arrived before 11.30 so tent up, drying from the rain last night. The guy at reception informed me there was a festival on and all shops were closed, i searched they really were all closed, bars snd resturants were open but rammed full of festive residents smartly dressed to party. The throngs scared me.

Heres hoping there will be somewhere open tomorrow. 🤞 And the rugby world cup is starting do i have to make provision for that, its getting complicated.

And i met an English couple who recomended a Bill Bryson book, Down Under, that i have now purchased, heres hoping i read it.

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.