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28 July - Capbreton,
France – San Sebastian - 91 km
With everything all dried I
headed down the road. It was tricky to find the
road to the border, but after some concentration
on the map, I was 30 km down the road and in
ritzy Biarritz before I knew it. I continued on
towards the border and arrived in Spain without
any fanfare. In fact I did not even notice that
I had crossed the border as I never saw a sign
for it.
There was, however, no doubt
that I was now in Spain! It was not only the
architecture but a whole new language and
culture. Things also became a lot hillier. Soon
I arrived in San Sebastian – a much larger city
than expected. Once in San Sebastian, I looked
for the Camino route and soon found the free
accommodation that goes with it. I got my
Camino, or Pilgrim’s Passport (or ‘credentials’
as they call it) and I was set. A whole new
world opened up to me. The doors at the
‘Refugio’ closed at 10 and by 10.30 the lights
were out. I found that to be quite early but I
was not complaining as the accommodation was
free. I still had to get into the Camino way and
figure out when and where to eat. I had
fortunately bought four bread rolls at the
little shop down the road. I ate two and kept
two for the following day. Not much of a meal
but better than nothing.
29 July - San Sabastian –
Mutriku - 58 km
I got kicked out of the
‘Refugio’ at 8h00, so went for a cup of coffee
and a croissant at a local coffeehouse and
waited for the bike shop to open. The gears on
my bike were playing up but there seemed little
they could do about it. At least I had the brake
blocks replaced in anticipation of the mean
downhills still to come. Then it was off to the
internet shop to sort out a new sim card for my
modem, and it was midday before I finally left.
What an absolutely stunning
coast it is! It was a windless sunny day as I
crept up the steep hills at a snails’ pace, only
to fly down the other side like a kamikaze
pilot. Holy crap, Spain is a hilly country! And
it was only day one. I stopped more than I
cycled, just to admire the view. On arrival at
Mutriku I made the decision to camp as my map
indicated no other campsites in close proximity.
I huffed and puffed up the steep hill to reach
the campsite. It was all worth it as it came
with excellent lawns and a stunning view.
I sat in the sun studying my
map for hours, and to be quite frank, it scared
the living daylights out of me! There was just
no easy way through Spain! My legs already felt
weak and my back was sore. There was no way I
was going down that hill back into the village
for food. While warming up a rice dish I had
been carrying in my bag for ages, I chatted to
friends on the internet, then had some coffee
and chocolate biscuits for dessert, and that was
supper done.
30 July - Mutriku – Bilbao
- 86km
I rose
to a perfect morning and headed up the hills. I
followed my map of the Camino route, which is
not necessarily
the easiest or
shortest way, but I
followed it anyhow. The people I encountered
along the way were rather friendly; greetings of
“Hola” and “Welcome to the Camino” were
frequently heard as I passed people heading in
the opposite direction. I must admit, I did not
once meet anyone on a loaded bike! I did,
however, see loads of cyclists on road bikes
powering up the hills. Spain must have the best
hill climbers in the world, when it comes to
cycling
─
one was even chatting on his mobile phone while
going up a steep hill. Now that’s impressive!
As I left the coast and
turned inland over the mountains, I passed
through small villages with ancient-looking
churches high up in the hills. Thank goodness
for a granny gear. I sometimes seriously doubt
my choice of routes and, for that matter, my
sanity. After a very long climb, I arrived in
Bilbao and was, once again, pleasantly
surprised; not only was it a very large city but
it was jaw-dropping beautiful. I enquired about
a campsite but there was none to be had, so I
settled for a pension in the old town at about
the same price as some of the campsites.
31 July - Bilboa
My legs
felt lame, my knees were sore and the town of
Bilbao looked very inviting, so I paid for
another night in the pension, put my backpack on
and went exploring. Not only did I find the most
amazing old buildings and churches, but I also
realized that I was now firmly entrenched in the
land of sangria and tapas. Although everything
was firmly shut, as it was a Sunday, it seemed
quite all right to have a class of wine at 10h00
in the morning. Street artists were hard at work
trying to earn a living. Soon the
cafés
opened up and people were sitting outside
sipping coffee or a glass of wine.
I also had a pleasant
surprise as my friend Ed, who lives in the UK,
was on his motorbike heading in my direction, so
I decided I may as well stay for another day and
meet up with him.
1 August - Bilbao
Ed
arrived around midday and we had loads to chat
about. We walked the narrow lanes of the old
city and chatted for hours about the good old
days over a bottle of red wine or two.
2 August - Bilbao – Laredo
camping - 50km
It was time for me to move
on, and after a cup of coffee and some
cornflakes, which Ed had in his panniers, we set
off. He lent me his GPS and I followed the voice
directions out of the city, but it soon became
clear to me that it wanted me to go in another
direction. So I switched it off!
It was
nice to have some company for a change,
albeit
on a motorbike! I went my own way, continuing
along the Camino route and stopping at small
villages along the way. Soon I caught up with
Ed, who had already found a camping spot. I
thought it was rather early to settle down for
the day, but he must have thought that the hills
were steeper than they really were. I was,
however, pleased about the short day and for not
having to negotiate yet another hill to a
campsite. Just as well, for soon it started
raining and we both retreated to our individual
tents.
3 August -
Laredo camping – Santillana
Del Mar - 88km
I left camp before Ed, but he
soon caught up, armed with bread and jam which
he had bought along the way. We had a bite to
eat and then set off again. I could count on
finding him at scenic spots along the way
admiring the view. We gave the big city of
Santander a miss and got onto a smaller road
which leads up the coast. Ed went ahead again to
look for camping, and I soon received an sms
from him announcing that he had found a nice
site at Santillana Del Mar. It took me a while
to get there as the road was fairly hilly, as
usual. I encountered a number of walkers and
cyclists who were also following the Camino
route and they all seemed so relaxed and
friendly.
We wandered into town to the
“supermarcado” to find food and just to admire
the old buildings and cobblestone streets in the
village.
4 August -
Santillana Del Mar – Llanes
- 60km
We woke to a brilliant sunny
morning and I knew instantly that it was going
to be a stinker. The road was no less hilly than
the previous days, but we were now riding along
the famous “costa verde”. The costa verde
conjures up romantic images, but there is
nothing romantic about it if you’re huffing and
puffing up steep hills in the heat. It was,
however, stunning, with one picturesque village
after the next. People were very much in a
holiday mood, and I even encountered two very
friendly people running after me with beers,
shouting something like “le fresco”!
I managed to fix the gears on
my bike, something I was very chuffed about!
Fortunately Sram gears makes it very easy for a
person.
I kind of gave Ed the wrong
town for our stop-over, so he found a campsite
fairly early. I was quite pleased about the
early camping as it gave me plenty of time to do
my much-needed laundry. Ed loves photography so
we wandered around the town, him taking endless
pictures. In the end I found a tranquil little
bay where I sat doing my dairy as the sun set
over the bay.
5 August - Llanes – Nava -
about 80km
I was rather surprised to
wake to a rainy morning. There was, however,
little one could do about it but pack up as
quickly as possible. Breakfast consisted of
cornflakes and coffee, and then we were on the
road.
I did something I seldom do,
and that was to take the wrong road by accident.
It was drizzling on and off all day, my map was
covered and I never bothered to take the cover
off to look at it. It was no disaster as it was
a stunning road all along a river. There was a
very festive vibe as a canoe race was in
progress with, what seemed like, hundreds of
participants. The river was lined with people
camping, music and food stalls abounded and
spectators cheered me on as I was going up
river.
The mistake solved my problem
of whether I should continue along the coast or
head inland, seeing that I was now already on
the inland route.
6 August - Nava – Salas -
85km
After a croissant and a cup
of coffee we left our cozy accommodation. It was
a fairly easy road to follow, until we got to
the town of Oviedo. Road signs were rather
inadequate and after riding around for what felt
like forever, I eventually found my way out. Ed
waited for me just outside the city boundaries.
We had a chat and then continued along the road.
I felt frustrated having
wasted so much time in the city and therefore I
did not appreciate the strong and gusty wind
which picked up later on. The hills got steeper
and dark clouds soon started to gather.
Eventually we called it a day and found a nice
room in Salas. The little town of Salas turned
out to be quite interesting, with cobblestone
streets and a quaint old church right in the
centre of the village. Locals were sitting at
sidewalk cafes sipping coffee or a glass of
wine, which gave it a nice village atmosphere.
7 August -
Salas – Pola de Allande
- 55km
What a fantastic day’s riding
it turned out to be. I decided on a short day as
it was Ed’s last day and instead of cycling the
entire day, it was nice to spend some time with
him after the ride. The road snaked up gentle
hills and although hilly, they were fairly easy
climbs. Fortunately (at least to date) the
mountainous terrain which I saw on the map
turned out to be much easier than expected. The
gradient is not as steep as expected and
although slow going, it was fairly easy cycling.
Be it as it may, I was still
fairly happy to spot the village that I was
heading for, although way down in the valley.
8 August -
Pola de Allande –
Fonsagrada - 70km
I said goodbye to Ed, who
sadly had to head back to London, and work. The
road lead up the pass and the map indicated that
I was in for a tough climb. After an hour and 30
minutes of riding, I reached the top and sped
down the other side, just to find another steady
climb waiting for me. When I reached a dam wall,
I ate some lunch and then tackled the steep
climb above the dam to the village of Grandas.
Once there, I stood around for awhile, watching
a festival in progress and then continued on my
way again.
Although I love the idea of
wind-farms, I’m not always so keen to spot them
along the road. They inevitably mean that this
is a notoriously windy area and today they
seemed to be on top of every hill. The road, for
some or other reason, went right up to them and
then down again into the valley.
The more I climbed up into
the hills, the smaller and more rural the
villages became. I hardly saw anyone along the
way and it was dead quiet. It felt as though I
was on a hike. The only people that I spotted on
the way were a lonely hiker, who was singing
loudly to himself as he was walking along and an
elderly farmer who was herding his cattle.
Although I had visions of
continuing on for a further 20km or so, my legs
were starting to feel rather tired. So I
decided to stop at the village of Fonsagrada,
although I wasn’t pleased to see that it was
situated up a 2km climb!! Oy!! I found a room,
took a walk to the supermarket and despite it
still being fairly early, I decided that was me,
done for the day!
9 August - Fonsagrada –
Lugo - 59km
The day started much as
expected and after breakfast I headed down into
the valley. It was icy cold and I realized that
I would not like to be here in winter. Road
signs warning motorists to be careful of snow
falls were to be seen all along the road. Also,
judging by the snow poles next to the road, it
must get fairly cold in this part of the world.
The road climbed steadily up to more wind-farms,
but soon I was able to see a large valley down
below.
I was concerned about my
bike’s front hub and hoped that it would hang in
there until I reached Lugo. Despite my concern,
it was a fantastic day and I was sorry to reach
the end of this day. I was pleasantly surprised
arriving in the town of Lugo, which revealed the
old city walls of Lugo. They are the ancient
Roman walls which were built between the 3rd and
4th centuries.
I found a pension right next
to a bike shop where they decided to replace the
cones. Hopefully that is the only problem with
the bike, as I would have preferred it if they
replaced the hub, but they could (or did not
want) to do it. Instead, they wanted to sell me
the entire wheel, complete with rim, spokes and
hub. Already I felt that they had overcharged me
for the cones, as I thought that 30 euros was a
bit of a rip off. At least the owner of the
pension was extremely friendly. He carried my
bags and bike upstairs for me and also offered
me the use of his kitchen and washing machine
(which I did not use, but in hindsight I should
have).
10 August -
Lugo – Santiago de
Compostela - 105km
I had a rather slow start to
the day and first cycled through the walled city
before getting onto the road to Santiago. I was
reluctant to reach the end of the Camino route.
It turned out to be one of the easier days and I
must have descended and cycled through a valley
of sorts. It was also much warmer and not as
hilly. I sustained myself during the day by
picking berries along the road and thoroughly
enjoyed them. The berry season was almost over,
but there were still plenty of good ones to be
had.
65km from Santiago I joined
the main, and popular, French route. At first I
was a bit taken aback with all the people. There
were loads of walkers, cyclists and even people
on horseback. The villages became larger and
more geared for tourists and one could find all
kinds of “Camino” trinkets. However, it only
took me a few more kilometres to get used to all
the people. It felt quite appropriate that I was
part of the large group of pilgrims all en route
to Santiago whilst I was almost on my final leg
of this journey. For pilgrim walkers, it was
still a 2 day walk, but I pushed on and soon
reached Santiago. I was even more delighted to
find a campsite just outside the city centre,
where I could rest my weary legs. I was thrilled
though that it was not the end of my journey,
but that I still had quite a way to go to
Lisbon.
11 August - Santiago de
Compostela
I was supposed to have a day
of R & R, but sightseeing and laundry left me
more exhausted than cycling. I brushed up on my
knowledge of the Camino. Embarrassingly enough,
I have been following the “Northern route” and
part of the “Original route” and even a bit of
the “French route”, but I still did not quite
know what it was all about. There was, however,
more than enough literature around town for me
to read all that I wanted to know. Seeing that I
was now firmly entrenched in the Camino Way, I
guessed that I might just as well follow the
“Portuguese Way” all the way to Lisbon and do
the whole hog!
12 August -
Santiago de Compastela –
Redondela - 80km
It was quite a popular
campsite and there were a number of other hikers
and cyclists camping in close proximity. We
first had a bit of a chat, before each one of us
headed off in our own direction. It was around
11.30 before I finally left Santiago.
I could not believe that the
route was getting even more interesting. The
tiny villages along the way now took on a
different look and feel and they all seemed to
have some vineyards and wine for sale. Old
churches and statues were still in abundance.
The lawns next to the roadsides must have
recently been mowed and the smell of the wild
aniseed was hanging thick in the air. I
considered myself lucky to be out on the bike on
such a good day.
I cycled past Pontevedra and
thought at first that I would stop there for the
night, but as it was still early, I headed on.
Just outside Redondela, I spotted a fairly cheap
looking hotel and went to investigate. The owner
was incredibly friendly and offered me a very
nice room with a sea view for 25 euros, which I
considered cheap.
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