Made it - now drinking with the Bobmeister.

Pics to follow

I’m not going to go on about the rain I faced 5km after I left Girona. I’m just going to show you this vid and then talk about something else.

Well it got cut off cos my phone’s evil and hates me but you get the gist – it was raining (really frickin hard) and I had to cycle through it. So I did. Like a boss. It started off feeling horrible and before long I was soaked through completely despite my “water-proof” jacket and getting paranoid about my laptop not being in any way water-proof contained for safe keeping but I knew it was going to rain like that all day so I didn’t have much of a choice. It did make a me chuckle a bit too… like “there is nothing I can do about it so just stop trying to fight it and let go” sorta chuckle.

Well like I said – I’m not going to go on about the rain. Instead I’m going to try to sum up what it’s like to do this sort of trip. It’s not going to be easy so just bear with me.

You know when you’re in the airport or on a plane, at a station or on a train, in a car travelling far… Shit, this sounds like Dr Seuss. I’ll start again.

Whenever I travel I get a transient feeling of freedom. You aren’t tied to one place or one set of ideas or what may otherwise feel like a situation you can’t change or a routine you were sick of years ago… you’re just in a comfortable limbo that allows you to take everything in anew and experience things in a sort of default state that we would all be in if it weren’t for life’s usual burdens and responsibilities getting in the way.

I think I recognised this feeling from a young age. I was certainly aware of it consciously for years and years. And I liked it.

Well that is part of the feeling I get whenever I leave a place, move through a place or finish up somewhere on the bike.

Seeing new things is so much fun. I think that’s what people mean when they refer to the “travel bug”. It’s the picking yourself up out of your routine and dropping yourself somewhere completely alien and hitting Play. It’s infectious.

Travelling solo I’ve really enjoyed too. Not always, but the majority of the time it’s great to have your own space, relying only on yourself, pacing only yourself and not being tied to anyone else’s whims or difficulties. I’m pretty certain that I could not have done the cycling with other people involved. Definitely not more than one.

Then there’s the camping! I love camping and the pitch-it-anywhere feeling of freedom. I had done (just) enough prep beforehand to make this bearable and with camping stove, tent, sleeping bag and rest of the gubbins I managed to see myself ok with just one supermarket/boulangerie trip per day. If you’re carrying everything you want to survive for that day you don’t want more than a day’s reserve of food/drink. The weight is just unnecessary.

The views… are just… awesome. None of the pictures or videos will do them justice. Getting to them using your own steam as well gives you a real sense of accomplishment for getting to look at it. When I saw Geneva lake after a full day of cycling up through the mountains I felt this. When I turned corners to see the sea when hitting the coast on this trip I felt it too. Looking back to see how far you’ve come in what feels like just minutes. You start to appreciate the scale of the trip and that day’s adventure. It’s something… a feeling, that you will only get by doing it I think. You couldn’t get the same thing by driving to somewhere. You’d have to trek it somehow. The bike is probably the most forgiving physically – even if you are carrying your life on the back. Use a bike if you have the option

The atmosphere. As your environment is constantly changing so to does the accompanying atmosphere. From bustling streets in cities to tranquil open roads and beaches. This change is refreshing. Too much of any one thing gets boring and with the constant touring you are exposed to so much on a daily basis you never get bored. I’m not sure I always went in search of the grandest scenes or most “hip” (yeah I’m old I’m gonna put it in quotes) places but I always appreciated where I found myself. I seem to land on my feet with finding a good atmosphere. I either approach or attract cool people or I am easily pleased – I’ve not decided which, I’m just content with what I’ve found.

I think that sort of sums it up.

As I’ve said – I think some of it is purely a feeling you get and hard to put in to words or for you guys to empathise with unless it’s a life experience you’ve had yourself but I guess that goes for so much in life.

One day to go. Tomorrow is the finale! So… for the last time: Please. Make. A Kiva loan.

Cheers.

I had to two nights in the hostel in Portbou as I’d given myself my first rest day. Today I didn’t have the luxury of a lie-in and needed to get going. Ok… maybe a little lie-in So I check out about 10ish and load up the bike with all the gubbins. I roll over a couple of streets to get some supplies from the local supermarket and on my way through the checkout I meet another couple of Brit cyclists. They rode from Normandy! But I think, as with any other normal person, they weren’t carrying a vast proportion of their life on the back. 100 miles they said they’d ridden. That’s pretty impressive. They wished me well on my trip and went their own way. Back to the peddling. First I have to climb out of Portbou on those windy roads. I’m pretty certain I have an under-inflated rear tyre that’s making just about any type of momentum slow or non-existent. Going to have to fix that before leaving tomorrow. Just hope I don’t over inflate it and bag myself yet another puncture. Aside from the slightly low rear tyre things were ok. I would climb for a while and then drop again on the awesome bends accompanied by equally awesome views. See the gallery below for a glance of what I was looking at. The first 5-10kms were great. Back on my favourite roads and the weather was dazzling. My rest day’s relaxation had given me a little boost in energy or maybe just enthusiasm for getting back in to it – either way I was starting off strong. There was a bit more headwind after those initial 10km. Commence swearing at (quite literally) thin air. I swear the traffic coming the other way think I’m mentally unstable. Oh, just remembered something from 10-20km outside of Portbou… I was climbing a hill (relatively low gear) and my water bottle dropped out of it’s holder thing and to the side of the road. I stop, check behind me and think I can probably just back up a bit and grab it without having to get off the bike. Nothing behind me so off I roll… and start to brake when I get close… and it’s the wrong brake (the back one) and all the weight is on the back I begin to topple backwards with the weight off all the bags (and part of myself) all over the back wheel and eventually just stop resisting and end up a little like an over-turned wheeled tortoise. I think I *just* managed to get back to my feet by the time the next car came round the bend behind me. If not it’s just another Spaniard who thinks I’m crazy loco. Bottle saved I carry on. My knees hurt. Specifically the right one. I am guessing it has to do with the weight I’m trying to tug up the hills and the fact that I usually sit down for 12hrs a day and my legs do sweet FA. This paired with the headwinds being back are what make the majority of the day tough. I consider going to Roses which is only 30-35km from Portbou but as I’ve set off and get back in the swing it just feels like too little and I have the urge to carry on. I decide by the time I hit the turning for Roses that Girona is easily possible and I don’t even stop to think. Headwinds, sore knees and low rear tyre are all the obstacles in my way. Achieving the extra distance is just a matter of when, not if. Every time I see a sign showing the distance to Barcelona now I get a bit excited. Most of the signs to Girona mention the distance to Barcelona as well so I am happy to see them both counting down. At 20km from Girona it started raining. This was not what I wanted at all. The wind is bearable although annoying but the rain on top of it is tough to beat mentally. I hide under a bridge after 10mins of it first starting. I’m damp but not soaked… the cloud seems to have moved and left the immediate road ahead so I carry on. More rain 200m down the road. Quickly find and hide under another bridge. This went on for the last hour of the ride and for much of it there were no bridges left to hide under. Just as I roll in to Girona it stops. The place looks cleansed and quite dashing – as if freshly showered for a night out. Maybe it always looks this good – I’ve not much to go off. I now smell like I’ve tried to shower in clothes than have taken me 200km, basically because they have. Time to find another hostel (shared room but reasonable @17e a night) and shower properly. Only 100km to go till Barcelona. I can almost taste it! Pics: