Having spent a couple of hours purloining the wifi and power of a cafe in Comillas last night, I thought I ought to at least eat there. However this is Spain – whose culture I had forgotten – and so no food was being served until 8pm. Oh bugger, that was going to make it a late night and a return to the tent in the dark. Overwhelmingly and most insistently, however, my tummy was telling me it needed food so I had little choice but to wait it out. In the intervening period it began to rain……hard! Luckily I had cycled down to the town and hadn’t taken anything off the bike – my waterproofs were still available! A small victory. I cycled back in the slowly relenting rain and managed to stay largely dry as I crawled into the tent and prepared to fall asleep. At about this stage I began to realise that it was a while since I had last spent any time under canvas and I wasn’t exactly organised. No head torch hung from the roof of the tent in preparation for a night time dash to the loo; no eye mask to counter the site’s lighting, or earplugs to repel the noise of fighting dogs or drunk locals had yet been unpacked. Nor had my toothbrush. My sleeping bag liner was a scrunched up mess in the corner. I know two hardened camper friends who would have wet themselves with laughter at my ineptitude! Too tired to care, I just crashed and made the best of it. I missed the earplugs the most; the fighting dogs and noisy drunks of before midnight time were replaced by a howling wind and the booming of the nearby surf thereafter. I slept fitfully in the unfamiliar surroundings and finally gave up about 2 hours before dawn. There followed a most enjoyable series of messages with friends who were also awake too early; I may be doing this on my own, but the modern connected World renders my journey not at all lonely! Eventually I stuck my head out of the tent, put a brew on and made myself some porridge. I will get more efficient at this pitching and packing of my camping gear, but for the time being it’s a slow process and I wasn’t ready to leave until 9.30.
It was a glorious morning and I was soon off piste looking for the best view points. As I have written uninterruptedly for far too long already, it is time for some photos;
View to the right above. From the same spot, view to the left below:
A little further on I launched the drone and took these images:
In the town of San Vincente de la Barquera I admired the view from one of it’s bridges:
Before stopping for coffee overlooking it’s second one:
My original intention had been to stay at the town of Llanes, but despite all my stops for coffee and photos I was going pretty well and it looked as though I would reach it in the early afternoon. I took the opportunity at a roadside cafe to fuel up and then decided to push on past Llanes and see where I got to. Up until now I had been following a preplanned route on my phone, but now I just struck out on what seemed the most interesting roads. Here’s where modern technology and the recent data allowances across Europe come into their own. I could search down track for campsites and restaurants, I could zoom in and out of maps to keep me clear of the busier roads and I could Google anything else; but I’m also a traditionalist and so as long as the compass on top of my bell (a novelty but actually useful Xmas present from my daughter) kept pointing West, I was happy! As close friends and family can testify, I’m never more content than when heading ‘off piste’ and I therefore cycled along with a happy heart…..and my diversions brought me to views such as these;
I came across a road sign with directions to Ribadesella; I liked the sound of the name and it’s distance seemed to make up a decent achievement for the day. A swift bit of Google’ing revealed a choice of 3 campsites and an interesting looking location. Sold to the man in the red cycle jacket! I arrived at about 4.30 having covered a smidge over 50 miles, climbed over 1250 metres and burned close to 3000 calories. How much pizza do I have to eat to sustain that effort level for the next 190 days?
My day’s route summary is below;
I needed something extra to go with my pasta for later and, after spotting this like-minded fellow coming out of the impossibly pretty village of Cobreces;
I arrived at my destination for the day – the Brittany Ferries terminal in Portsmouth – far earlier than anticipated and spent an increasingly cold and miserable 90 minutes standing out in the boarding lines of an un-facilitated quay frontage. Once onboard, however, my mood was lightened by finding my cute little cabin, showering, changing into fresh clothes and attempting to replace the 2500 calories I had supposedly burned through in dragging myself and my 45kgs of bicycle and luggage the 48.5 miles/78 kms from home.
This is not Plan A 