One trip – two stories. Or just different versions of the same stoy?
Fiona’s story
It’s all new and different. In a really good way. In a massive relief kind of way. I’d been quite panicked about Spain. People might think I’m fearless, take it all my stride, always up for adventures…maybe because I do some risky things like mountain biking and actually cycling on the roads is quite risky too. But that’s comfort zone stuff for me. Cycling the UK coastline has been an amazing adventure – yet still a routine of sorts; check map, or rather the ordnance survey app, ride the route, swap over with Mike, drive van, get shopping, cook and eat , drink wine, sleep; repeat. Quite a simple and even a predictable formula. Every day IS different but actually we just know what we are doing with that Cycling the Coast challenge. And we are almost done – well maybe 700 miles but we’ve done around 4,000 already.
But Spain. I was fearful. Felt I’d lost my sense of adventure, my usual gusto. Why? The lack of language was definitely an issue. France I can do. My French is enough to get by, but Spanish, err no. Phrase book arrived. Yet to be read. And the plan. Yes I wanted to see Barcelona again but other than that, honestly, I didn’t know. Luckily Mike did. He’s a planner. A reader, a researcher. Discovered the Picos mountains. Ordered a book of the walks there. Found out about some Gaudi houses along the coast.
I had visions of being sea sick on the 20 hour ferry crossing from Santander, I get vertigo quite easily, but no, all good; I treated it like a mini cruise, even up dancing to a DJ. Some woman came up to me the next morning and commented on my dancing, I was mortified. I know there’s a fine line between “old woman dancing after a few too many” and the confidence of uninhibited dancing. But no, she and her partner who’s a dance music DJ, said it was great to see me up dancing and asked whether I was into dance music. She actually made my day.
Mike’s story
A change of plan
OK, ferry booked to Santander; lined to cycling the Spanish “Alpe D’Huez” – the Covadonga in the Picos mountains in northern Spain. Then – splat! Mike hits the deck from his mountain bike and badly dislocates his shoulder – 5 weeks before the ferry.
We seriously considered cancelling or postponing the ferry as the prognosis was a long recovery with taking it easy as the mantra. What could we do?
As it turned out, Mike made great progress in the first few weeks so we decided to still take the ferry and change the plan slightly and hike the Picos mountains rather than bike them. And what a great decision that was – it gave Mike more time to recover and hiking is what the Picos is known for.
Still with Fiona’s story
So northern Spain – just loved it. Despite the lack of language skills and determined to learn when back there were so many great things. Camping up a mountain with the only other van a couple of van-lifers (“digital nomads”) from the UK. Hiking the Picos in the barking mad heat, three very different hikes with the longest Rio Ceres of 16 miles. Mike mega excited as he’d bought a book on Picos hiking so literally led the way. We didn’t mean to do all of the 16 mile one but realised we would run out of water and food if we didn’t get to the town at the half way point. We drank 9 litres of water between us that day.
I still ended up with heat stroke and the runs for a few days after. Very glad to find the cool of the Fuenta De Cable Car base to camp for a few nights, the final hike was cold and windy at the top. What a welcome change.
Back to Mike…
Cities and coast
On the way to the Picos we had stopped at a place called Comillas on the coast as it was the place of a Gaudi designed house and what a wacky place it was and a reminder of what was to come in Barcelona. We stayed at a Park4Night overlooking the town and that was the start almost two weeks of “wild camping” and we didn’t use a campsite till Alquezar (with its gorge walk) in the Pyranean foothills – we thought maybe a proper shower was in order to make us more popular with the locals!
It was in San Sebastian that Mike tried his first bike ride since the accident. A simple ride along the beach? No, we decided to go to the next bay over the hills! It was a decent ride up the hill out of San Sebastian and right at the top was a local restaurant where we stopped and, for a few euros had the most amazing patatas fritas omelette – which reminds us that Spain was remarkably cheap for eating and drinking – before carrying on down to the next bay. During a coffee on the beach it started spitting with rain and by the time we had started on the steep hill back up it was a full-blown storm. What a first ride! But no ill effects with the shoulder from the accident or the lay-off.
But the most interesting stop was the “Badenas Reales” or Badlands between San Sebastian and Barcelona. Only discovered through a borrowed book and an alternative to the vineyards of Rioja. Quite amazing scenery and great off road gravel riding. Who knew it existed?
And so to Barcelona
Barcelona and an actual pre booked campsite right on the beach for safety and security, with a bus running to the city from just outside and dropping us at the top of La Rambla.
We hiked to our timed plot at the Sagrada Familia and were amazed at the progress, and this time we went up the Passion tower. Spent hours looking up and marvelling at the awesome design and the attention to detail. The light coming through the windows in magical. They say that it will be finished in 2026 – we will be back to see that!
Shopping, wine bars and tapas. What a city to people watch. My fashion sense is not going to keep up with what’s new and not even bothered but I did get two new dresses from the wonderful shop Designual in the sale. They’ve been well worn.
One day we cycled into the city and up the Montjuic mountain and Olympic park (1992) to get a great view over the city. But the cycle lanes and roads were plagued by electric scooters which seemed to be ridden by people with no road sense or care for others. Nightmare.
Where do we go on the way of Alpe D’Huez?
We sat on the beach in Barcelona campsite trying to answer the same question. It funny that when you can do or go where you want, you can stare at the proverbial blank page for ages. We knew we wanted to go back to Lalley in the Trieves region and had booked the campsite; but in between? Time to get the map out – or the internet version.
A couple at an Aire had recommended Cadaques but we stopped short and went to Empuriabrava – a mini Venice created from nothing in the mid 1960s. We stopped in a rather tatty Park4Night on the outskirts but from there we could cycle around the canals and beach. Next morning Mike started off cycling to Cadaques up and over the hill in the direction of France. Its an exquisite little place but it was so busy and campervans are not welcome in the twisty streets.
We then drove over the Coll de Bellistras to France. This had been a major route for refugees of the Spanish Civil War fleeing the wrath of Franco; over 100,000 passed this way to safety. The irony was that someone had stolen the “France” sign you can see on Google street view.
Still with no idea where to go – in a good way – so back to the maps. Indecision lead us to try another coastal campsite just before Cap d’Agde at a tiny place called Valras Plage – never heard of it? Neither had we! It was to be honest very forgettable and we cannot even muster one photo!
But it didn’t matter as within a couple of days we would be in Lalley in the little region Trieves. We had been there in 2020 and were determined to go back to the same campsite and those same empty, very photogenic, roads. And it did not disappoint – even at the beginning of the French school holidays it was quiet. We even found some new routes taking in a turquoise lake, sunflowers and of course the spectacular Aiguille mountain which dominates every vista.
We had a couple of days to spare before heading the the Alps so for old times sake we went to Villard-de-Lans and found an unofficial P4N outside the tennis club (with toilets!) and even got the approval of the local Gendarmerie. Strolling distance to the busy town. We went for a bike ride to Pont en Royans (where we had stayed on our first holiday together 8 years before); had a lovely lunch before heading back the hilliest way to Villard. I think we did 6000+ feet of climbing in 40 miles – phew!
Alps here we come!
We were heading to the village of Allemont, 10km from Bourg D’Oisans and about 20km from the top of Alpe d’Huez which was hosting the finish of this year’s “Queen” stage of the Tour and our campsite was on the route. We were also meeting our friends Gordon and Jemma and their little lad Fraser (aged 2 ½!). We had first met them 3 years before at the top of the Col du Galibier – another Tour stage.
There is a back way to Alpe d’Huez from Allemont (recommended by Matt in our local bike shop ”Detour”) which we took the day before the Tour and what a spectacular ride it was – steep, fabulous views and then the last 6km of the Alpe with crazy loud spectators cheering us on.
The next day saw us watching the stage on the iPad, then dashing out to see the riders flash by and then dashing back to the iPad to see young Yorkshire rider Tom Pidcock win the stage. What a day.
Moving on – but not far.
After 4 nights on the campsite we moved a massive 2km up the hill to wild camp on the shores of the lake above the village. In all we stayed there three nights, being moved on the police after the first night as the Tour relaxation of the access rules had expired, and then staying up above the lake. A beautiful place to stay – for free.
At the lake Fiona tried paddle boarding and seemed a natural, even in the wind. Mike went up the first 10km of the Croix de Fer in the heat of an afternoon and the next day both cycled up to Les Deux Alpes again in the heat – another epic ride.
The next stop was another wild camp about 6km from the top of the Croix de Fer by another lake – unspoilt with no internet, no phone and plenty of mountains. The next day we cheated our way to the tops of the Col de Glandon and the Croix de Fer by only doing the last 6km! Nonetheless, we still took the cheers of the cyclists as we hoisted our bikes over our heads for the photo! To make matters worse, we went about 3km down the other side and cycled back up to the top for more cheers! (In our defence we had done the whole of it two years previously)
Heading home
With the return ferry now booked thoughts were turning the way home and to packing in more places on the way back north. We decided to go back via a couple of places we had been to before – one in the Jura mountains with another turquoise lake for Fiona to swim in and the other the Lac d’Orient near Troyes.
Then it was on the Arras, about 60 miles short of Calais, for a very pleasant couple of nights in a fabulous municipal Aire – well done Arras for the job well done. Fantastic city square and restaurants – a great stopover before the dash to Calais.