Round 3: Ramble around Iberia

Elcha de la Sierra to Jaen

It rains all night. There's a tin roof of another building immediately outside the window which we leave open, and for much of the night it sounds like we've got a steel band outside. Not the best of sleeps for me, ballistic sleeps somewhat better, as displayed by his sensational brass-section sound check style snoring :D To the headphones..!

Morning appears and it is raining, still pretty heavily. Breakfast is had. Decisions contemplated. No point in waiting. The forecast is crap. So we decide to stick to the main-ish roads to make some progress to somewhere. It is tough but in a way all good fun.. You need to be on your game.. :)

After a couple of hours riding we have a decent break under the relief of a canopy of a closed petrol station. A few adjustments and we're back to it, but I'm starting to leak (well the gear is, not I that is).

Oh this year I'm off to Sunny Spain... Y Viva Espana.. I'm taking the Costa Brava plane..
etc.. not. :blast

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Back to the road. Conditions actually manage to deteriorate, quite how I've no idea. Over time in my biking career I've seen some iffy stuff; situations like fog, heavy rain and high cross winds, but never at the same time :eek
It is some of the most challenging conditions I think I've ever encountered.

To quote Morissey, it becomes 'The joke that isn't funny anymore'. Riding along to 'The Best of the Smiths' just couldn't be more appropriate. 'Heaven knows I'm (wet and) miserable now..'

To add to the woes the challenging flowing riding we had has now long since departed. We're faced with various diversions around ridiculous half-finished AutoVia and main road constructions, stupidly placed speed bumps and crappy half-witted speed cobble strips, pot holes filled with water, all manor of obstacles in the deluge.

We hit a hillside town. There are small rivers running through; we circle and explore, more than once- nothing is open at all- it looks like everyone has taken shelter. It really is very bad now.

With nothing here we head on to something bigger, the target being the city of Jaen. We find a McDonalds and it is open, phenomenally busy. We bring in our own little Tsunami. My boots are full of water. My body heat has warmed the water, it's a very unusual sensation. If I hop up and down I can make water jump out of the top of my boots :D
The poor girl with the mop doesn't look so amused at us, but what can you do..

Brian sources burgers and fries and we find a sort of Spa place courtesy of a soggy smart phone and book it on line. It's close and cheap, and I think the swimming pool will turn out drier than I am currently.

We head back to the main road. There's a slip road. There's a dip in the slip road, and this has filled with water. Our resident submarine commander ballistic hits it with gusto, and creates a bow wave that goes over his head. 'What a flash bastard' I think to myself. I slow down to a crawl and pull my legs up in the air like a nervous five year old riding through a puddle. Sure I look a nobber, but that's never worried me before I suppose.

We roll up at the hotel, which turns out to be a yoof hostel. But it's OK, and the premier quality that it posesses is dryness.

Unpacking and stuff has leaked. My HTC desire in the tank bag has gotten wet and has stopped working :( Oh, Joy of joys.

A bit of boot emptying (Yes, I know they're summer boots, so yes, it serves me right).

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Things look up, though. We find a locals bar and have a good few beers and wines from a very friendly hostess. We're given ever replenishing tapas, so much so they run out of combos to give us. Delightful. In conversation it turns out ballistic's epic ride through the water was unplanned- he was looking at the GPS when he hit.. and it scared the living shite out of him :D

Look. I'm still all soggy..

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We follow up with a grand Menu del Dia and retire to the hostal.

We see on the news- terrible floods; six people killed. It's very bad around here alright :(
 
As long as you can get Tapas and red wine at the end of the day, things aren't so bad!:rob:beerjug::D
 
Jaen to San Pedro de Alcantara

The following day and things have dried out somewhat but not totally. The room has warmed up over night and this morning it has a sort of Turkish Wrestler's Jock strap feel about it.

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I've dried and repacked everything in my tank bag and got into my still ever so slightly soggy gear. Nice. When things warm up again I'm going to smell an absolute treat :eek:

At least the skies over Jean look better from our HQ. And a damned sight better than yesterday I can tell you.

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So our plan today was to head down to the coast and then up a known excellent road to Ronda, hoping that the weather will take a turn, Off we go. Bar some good little roads at first in the hills the riding is unremarkable.

Signs of the weather taking taking toll are all around. Yesterday on the road we saw a tanker truck on its side. Today we see this, and it’s a UK car. Hope whoever was in it was OK; certainly doesn't look at all pleasant. It also appears some folk have been so kind as to steal the interior.

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It's grey, although hapilly there are signs things getting better. A stop at a truck stop on the main drag and a look at the paper again tells us just how bad it has been here. Golly.

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We opt for some mile-munching, and we're mostly on main roads and AutoVia on our nip to Malaga. By the time we reach the coast there's better weather; even some sunshine. The temperature returns up to the mid twenties :)

After a coffee and a fill-up we consider what to do. Immediately there's the excellent known road to run up to Ronda. That said, it's going up in to the mountains, and it looks like black clouds up there, and we know of course just how things can change. Choice: Ride it today, or stop and do it in the morning.
After some mulling we decide to stop and postpone the rest of the anticipated ride for the day. Fairly easily we find a decent hotel and we're all set.

Brian has discovered the 'Brake Failure' warning :(

Research to be done. 'Eureka..! Torx 24…'

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But.. conclusion is the problem is at the front wheel :( :(

It's out for an evening. We spied a Chinese restaurant and we mulled over that we might do that. I'd been after a Curry for some time now, but this would work as an alternative. Well, it is most splendid. I have a starter of spare ribs and they're huge, straight from the Flintstones. This is followed by a pile of special fried rice you could have hidden yourself in, plus a beef hot and sour thing which worked very well. Incredibly well fed and at a reasonable price we wobble off. We stop at a nice loking bar for a drop of Sangria. Two jugs are 37 bloody Euros. Blimey, they saw us coming.. :blast

The local police wander by, lit ciggies in hand, and look in on the football. Clearly at the just around off-season stage not much goes on..
 
San Pedro de Alcantara Los Palancias y Villafranca

Well. We're greeted by a bright blue sky and beautiful sunshine. Perfect.

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Best get to it, then.

The run is up into the mountains on the road to Ronda, and then South West to the coast again, all through the mountains, and the roads look like fun. We remind ourselves the night before that today would be Sunday, and no doubt the locals will be out in force, so we should keep that in mind. The road up to Ronda is particularly impressive. Great views, but you dare not take your eyes off the road for too long as there's always something to do. Evidently the Spanish Police use it for pursuit training and you can see why- it has absolutely everything and it's half an hour of total engaging fun. We do note that there's a few bikes out- I see two rocket pilots really coming quickly the other way and cornering about as fast as I think humanly possible.

The Guardia Civil are posted about half way up under a tree. There's some flashing of lights from the other way giving us a clue and we drift through unobtrusively.

We reach the top of the run and stop to head South West. We're about five minutes in to that when what I call a 'Conger' of Sports bikes come over a crest into a corner. They're all a ball hair width away from each other. It looks impressive in flow, but in my view stupidly impressive and its something I really don't like to see- one mistake from the chappy in front, and no matter how good you are, and by my reckoning things would be all over. I've seen it on YouTube too, bollocks to that. Anyway-I back off, more wary now. I don't like that at all.

Well, I'm glad that I do. Minutes later we see a smaller conger of bikes coming up and over on a right hander. The third bike, what looks like a red and white CBR, has misjudged it and isn't making the corner. He misses our very own ballistic by about a foot- and then there's the matter of little old me. For a nano-second I think 'are you going to turn then mate?' before I take evasive action. If I didn't he'd have been through me. In the end he misses me by what must be inches :eek: :eek: :eek:
What a tool. Anyway, I'm glad I followed my instincts. We stop for a coffee and an underwear check. Brian sums it up... 'he nearly got me, I thought that was you gone'.

Right about now I could do with one of these..

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Back on the road and there's more motorcycle madness. A group of cruiser riders opt to cut the corner on a left hander; an RT or something does the same. Be careful out there folks. This time I have video, and there's some choice commentary at particular points :D

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Quite :mad:

Aside from the kamikaze motorists, the run is very pleasant, and it doesn't spoil anything for me and it's another hour or so of good (if not very suspicious) riding.

Soon enough the mountains dwindle to the sea and we're down on the front to cross to Gibraltar.

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With some careful work we leap frog to the front of the queue, getting past hundreds of cars in the process. I say 'Nice motor mister' to a guy driving a Hummer, so he lets me through a tricky squeeze bit. It was a tactical lie, and a useful one :D Crossing the border itself is easy. The Spanish side bods ignore us, but the Gibraltar side, in their UK style Police uniform they want to see our passports. Odd.. the bloke has the strangest accent. Back to it and we're soon riding across the airport runway to the rock (you have to by the way, it isn't faulty navigation). We're presented with a Cepsa station with petrol at an irresistible £1 a litre. Ah, that calls for a fill up! :)

Gibraltar seems to have an impossible amount of traffic for such a tiny place. The recent prosperity shows. We fear we need to park up in have to walk in, but with some ingenuity and patience we find our way in to town, not helped by a young bloody muppet on a scooter who decides to stop and answer his mobile phone on a roundabout. We get some parking though and have a tat seeking stroll. Stickers bought. We then drop by for Fish and Chips at the Angry Friar.

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It was welcome enough even though there was more than a hint of Findus about it.

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Shame, there was a proper Fish and Chip shop along the way, but they were closed, I guess Sunday is still special to a degree over here in Gib. We also had London Pride. The concencus amongst ourselves was that it was more origin of Chisuico rather than Chiswick, and had been nearer to Lagos than London's Talgarth Roundabout. Still, again it was alright enough and better once ballistic's suggestion of bunging a spoon in it to get rid of the fizz was put in to action.

We chatted with a fella and his grandson who were day trippers from the humungous P&O Ventura which was in at the port. It felt like being at home briefly.. quite strange. I might have made a pitch to hang around in Gibraltar for a novelty night out on the tap, but the accommodation was prohibitively expensive and it wasn't worth it even for that novelty night. It's a shame because I had a very good curry here once (mind you, it was in 1992). Even though I'd gotten recent a Chop Suey fix I'm definitely getting the fancies for it. Must be a kind of home sickness.

We figured this would make a good quiz question.. 'Where abouts are we?'. (Yes, of course, not now, as you already know of course).

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Out of Gibraltar and soon enough we're on our way to Spain again.

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An easy cross of the border, and then its off to Tarifa for the view across to Africa. But the view it wil be only be for now- Brian has limited time and I have other agenda items to see to. Still, there's always later for that ;)

We head up now towards Seville. There's nothing on that triangle between Huelva to the North West, Seville to the North, and the south where we are, just marshland with no means to cross in to Portugal should that be required. Our conclusion: It's the Norfolk of Iberia :D

We stop in a town to look for accommodation. There's some sort of festival on and we can't get in with some very odd looking people milling about. Next town. There's nothing here. The hotel has closed and there is absolutely nothing here. Shrugs are exchanged from the bikes. Definitely a touch of the King's Lynn about it here.

Finally, in the next town we find a hotel on the main drag. They're nice helpful folk and see us park the bikes up snug to the front of the place on the pavement.

We wander and find this place has much more to offer. It's very pleasant stroll around the town on Sunday night and everyone is out walking, taking the night air, having drinks. Very pleasant. We join in and have much cheaper Sangria. We then have a Doner Kebab for tea. Classy :D
 
It's the Norfolk of Iberia :D



Welcome to Norfolk :friday
Look on the bright side, it can only get better :tigger
 
It's the Norfolk of Iberia :D

Welcome to Norfolk :friday

Look on the bright side, it can only get better

Joking aside I've a lot of time for good ol' Norfolk :thumb2

Already looking forward to a Christmas Eve pint in the Fat Cat in Norwich :beer:
 
Los Palancias y Villafranca to Albufeira

Another morning on the road. Up, pack, down, out.

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It's an easy get away from the hotel. We run through Seville to do a loop to the west. Navigation of Seville is pretty easy, though they have some very odd road layouts and main road intersections and junctions. Strange. There's a fog- a pollution klag on the outskirts. More strange conditions then. We take an easy run through it all.

Out of the klag, and out of Seville we stop at a truck stop. We're served ham on toast with Coffee by a girl with quite scarily dodgy Hampsteads*; ballistic has cake.

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We watch two chaps prepping a Wind Turbine for moving further down the road. Interesting stuff.

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We pull away. Let's go then.. Michelin Green Roads beckon! Ahem. Straight down the slip road some 500 meters... and straight into two RT riding Guardia Civil, who flag us down :(

I knew it had to happen some time of course, so here we go then :rolleyes:

They are a little and large pair. They're fussing over ballistic's bike for some reason. Pointing, gesturing. But we don't know what it is. Soon we know better. 'No HID's' the little fella is saying. Ah, he speaks English. 'Only on cars, Audi's, Mercedes..'. However, by the time Brian's removed his millinery, and fished his earplugs out, (which is an absolute age by the way.. nice delay tactics there) they've seriously lost interest. During this I take the opportunity to unplug my music player. I leave my helmet on and my neck buff as it covers the leads (I hear having music on attracts a fine over here for some stupid reason).
Anyway. They step back with their arms behind their backs. 'It is a fine of 160 Euros' I think I hear the guy say. Eek. After a driving licence inspection for ballistic (he still has the paper one, which sort of confuses them) they present it back to him and beckon us on. 'I'm only here another two days' says ballistic, and it seems good enough for them. We tell them we're going to Portugal; they don't know if it is law there or not. 'But, if you have money, all will be OK in Portugal' says del Fuzz. Result, and we’re on our way.
All told they were very polite, and all important they didn't give out any expensive souvenirs :clap

The Green Road that follows is good quality high speed sweeper sort of stuff. We were a bit confused as to how it got the green status- there's wasn't a lot to see at all, but at least it was decent enough motoring. We stop at a Repsol border post to fill up at 1.49 a litre before the eye-watering 1.80+ of Portugal begins.

Soon after the border we turn off to head South.

We stop at what we call rural Potugal's Ace Café. It's a great spot for coffee and a nibble and we leave refreshed.

ballistic, navigation captain, off into the distance..

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Well, what follows is an hour or so of delightful serious GS country. Tricky. Narrow, rewarding roads, with changes in surface and lots and lots of bumps. As we said after.. we'd like to see a rocket racer on his R1 come and do this road at speed- his pelvis would have been smashed to pieces by the ten mile mark :D Yes siree, this is GS country alright. I had a good razz, it was great to feel the bike really working over the surfaces. Brian sports a grin like a Cheshire Cat at our next stop. Bloody right too.
For me the WESA set-up was a total joy.. Brian remarked that he didn't know how I kept up fully loaded, that's a great compliment to the Wilbers gear without a doubt :thumb2

Some splendid views. And there are some other bumpy bits.

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Digressing again for a moment the trend in Southern Spain and similarly in Portugal seems to be to have speed bands or cobbles on the way in to town, in increasing strips, before the town speed limit begins. I think they are called 'Bandieras Sonoros' but I can't remember the spelling of it, or find it on Google for that matter. Or as we've called them in conversation over time everything between Antonio Banderas and Sombreros Bananas. The real irony is that in Portugal, the smoothest parts of road are actually where these things are; the rest of the smaller non main-drag roads are corrugated to buggery. Do they want you to speed up then? By my reckoning Road Rollers must be against the law over here. Still, on the good old GS I'm not at all complaining :)

Heading South, Clear Blue Skies. As the B-52's once said.. 'Pass the Tanning Butter' once again.

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A great ride today :thumb


* 'Hampsteads' = Hampstead Heath = Teeth. We're cock-a-neys, don't you know.
 
A day of downtime on the Sunny Algarve

Last night we wandered into the main town of Albefuira. Previously, I'd visited on what would be a quiet day. The evening was a bit, well, different. Full of hawkers trying to get you to go in and drink and eat in their places.. and a large quantity of our fellow countrymen in various states of imbibement.
Not for us. We managed to find an back street bar ran by two elderly brothers and it served Sagres Dark. Very good indeed that is.

Brian sat outside and soaked up the Fado from the neighbouring terrace restaurant. I was a peasant and went it to watch the second half of West Ham playing at QPR :D

Of course, Brian's state of nirvana is ruined by some orange faced / orange haired / orange dress wearing woman (she could have been sponsored by KTM) leaning precariously from the Fado balcony and puffing on a ciggie because she can't be bothered to walk down a flight of stairs. 'Repunzel, Repunzel... let down your fag' I joked. I was a bit pissed mind.

Nuts to you old chap.. :D

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And we are not amused..

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The following morning we'd gotten up without a ready agenda and considered what to do. A route around to Cape St Vincent possibly and a ride back? Something brief would be the ticket. However, the route looked to be 150+ miles, and with the weather having a touch of sizzle to it we decided we weren't going to bother, the better option was going into the town to find an English breakfast. Take advantage of your circumstances.

Before that is managed its about time for a bit of maintenance. I have a look about and take a few bits out of the bike. I discover the exhaust side 'Camping' Pannier is in about an inch of water. The topbox has leaked a fair bit, too :(

So it's drying out duties once again..

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Anyone for a Frogman's copy of 'Ride' Magazine? :D

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The joys of tent drying out without actually having used your tent..

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Decorating the rather nice apartment. 32 Euros a night, excellent value.

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Did I mention breakfast? See no evil, eat no evil..

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We have to find a place with free Wi-Fi. And the fact it sells Super Bock Stout? Pure coincidence :D

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So.. ballistic has to head North tomorrow, for the Santander ferry. Sigh. I'll be at a loose end. It'll be strange, I've enjoyed riding along with him immensely :(
 
super bock compared to the big g or beamish?????

fancy swapping some for some dommelsch or jupiler????
 
super bock compared to the big g or beamish?????

fancy swapping some for some dommelsch or jupiler????

Believe it or not I've never bonded with Guinness or Beamish.. still searching for that 'good pint' of Guinness. Never found it, mind that said not visited Ireland as yet.

As for Beamish, I was living in New York when they tried the US launch of it. It was free.. and I drank so many pints I was sick as a dog.. never liked it since.

Marston's Oyster Stout.. now that I like :thumb2

And you know, if I attempted to bring any of the magnificent Super Bock home I don't think any of it would actually make it back to our shores :D

:beer:
 
Believe it or not I've never bonded with Guinness or Beamish.. still searching for that 'good pint' of Guinness. Never found it, mind that said not visited Ireland as yet.

As for Beamish, I was living in New York when they tried the US launch of it. It was free.. and I drank so many pints I was sick as a dog.. never liked it since.

Marston's Oyster Stout.. now that I like :thumb2

And you know, if I attempted to bring any of the magnificent Super Bock home I don't think any of it would actually make it back to our shores :D

:beer:

The Guinness is def better in Ireland Rob :beer:

I'm there a week on Monday checking it out again for next years tour :thumb

:beerjug:
 
The Guinness is def better in Ireland Rob :beer:

I'm there a week on Monday checking it out again for next years tour :thumb

:beerjug:

Enjoy, buddy :thumb

I'll definitely get there sooner or later.. :blagblah
 
And now for something completely different..

Just looking back through the past weeks on the road. The GS now has done 15,000 miles since Istanbul on 21st June :thumb

I can honestly say that I haven't got tired of riding the bike, even in the worst conditions there's not been a day that I've not wanted to do it.

Anyway :blagblah

Jeeezuss. What a lardarse. I'd seen that photo of me at the bull arena that Brian had posted where I was by the bars, and it told me time's time enough, get something done. Part of the plan of time off had been that I'd needed to live a little better, and also there's doctors orders to consider and frankly, ahem, I haven't been paying enough attention to that. Let's just say I'm a lover of trying new beers and with 30 countries covered.. Well, just work it out for yourself.

So now, on the sunny Algarve its as good a time as any to start the good work and so yes, it's proper detox time for me. It should give me a good start- sadly I've been here and done this before.

I say farewell to ballistic and he makes North for a rendevous with his pal Ted and in a couple of days a fully operating Brittany Ferry.

For me the day started with a ride out to Portimao in a loop en route to my new base. I wanted to pick up some gym bits and bobs for the hard graft that lies ahead, and I see a Decathlon store from the main road.

Unfortunately it isn't open, and something has gone very wrong recently :( Is this a sign? Telling me not to do it? Spooky.

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I head down to the coast, around Praia de Rocha, and find a nice sea view bar for a coffee. The place is as dead as a very dead thing and that kind of suits me. Very peaceful :)

I decide to fill the bike up, as I can't see me making it back to Spain before needing the next fill-up. Yeouch.

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So I've checked in for a couple of weeks at a very nice Spa Hotel. It will by gym sessions and a fair amount of swimming for the foreseeable.

I switch on the TV, something I haven't done for months. News. Sky News. Two minutes of vacuous coverage of a missing child with an on the spot reporter asking the most ridiculous questions. 'And after the break we'll be coming live from the Funeral of PC Fiona Bone'. Eh? Unbelievable! Then we have a break. 'Reclaim your PPI' says the advert. Click.. Off, A few minutes more than enough, total garbage.
FFS.. It is still so, so good to be away.

Dinner has lost some of the p-zaz of Menu Del Dias and Chiulletas..

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New regime it is..

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New cockpit view..

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Still the downtime is nice, though..

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...although extremely tempting... Having Super Bock in full view and sticking to Diet Coke :( Be strong, now kidda.

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I wonder if pictures of 'Cola Light' are any less interesting than photos of beer? :D
 


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