Round 3: Ramble around Iberia

Oops better get scribbling.

But if I were to tell you we'd just hauled up in a place in Spain where it is San Miguel/ Fiesta or whatever tonight, well.. there might be a further delay.. :D :ChrisKelly
 
Braganca to Ponferrada

OK then, back to it :thumb2

Well the one notable thing about Braganca is that it is like a ghost town. We did enjoy a drink and some chicken last night; the only people loitering Brian observed were two very low quality prostitutes (as ballistic described them: The Fat Slags.. Euccchhhhh..)

We get up and leave the deserted hotel and leave the deserted town. Strange place, that.

We head due West from Braganca on a peach of a road. Twisting, turning, flowing, in bright sunshine, all five minutes from the Hotel. Lovely. Well the first thing to reflect upon is after running in its so, so nice not to have a hexagonal rear tyre profile, so that turning in doesn't feel like you're riding the rear wheel up a kerb every time you try and point the bike round a corner. Nice.

The plan is for a picnic lunch in the hills. To save assembling sandwiches we decide to kop out and raid a local bar for lunch. We cross back in to Spain and stop in a town. We grab Empanadas, Tortilla, cobble rolls containing chewy ham and some crisps. When we pulled in the local Guardia Civil had observed us, gone past, stopped and whilst we had gone to grab food gone up to the bikes and observed closely. As we wandered back slowly, they got in the car, came back, circled and went back up the road and stopped again. I'm sure we pished on their parade proper when we promptly pulled off, u-turned and zipped off down a side road and out of town.

We found a shady spot and enjoyed what was an excellent al fresco lunch..

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After lunch we had more astonishingly good riding, well, which would rank as good as any day I've ever had on the bike.

Stunning vistas..

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Views I seldom see on the Romford Ring Road..

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Senor ballistic goes off to investigate a track..

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Lovely, lovely, lovely.

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Action shot..

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Lovely sunshine. However, riding most of the day without my Factor 20 and with the Flip up leave me with a ridiculous trapezoid style System 6 tan with a bright red nose...
 
Ponferrada to Potes

Thankfully, the Nivea cream (I should add left by the lady, honest) has sorted out the red nose.

The Hotel at Ponferrada was an unlikely hit. It was the sort of facade from the outside you'd think as a 'roll-up-your-windows-kids-and-put-your-foot-down' sort of place, but actually, once in the rooms were huge and we had a patio area we could have had a game of five-a-side football on, plus there was a locked garage to stash the bikes. I've not had a problem in Spain, but the relief of not having to unload all of the crap from the bike is as bigger plus point as anything.

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We have a decent ride out of town and stop at a place. They have dart boards, a TV with the F1 build up and Super Bock stout. Could we stop so early? Surely not.
We're joined by a local Alberto Tatlocko who gives us a long spiel before the chuckling barman tells him that we don't speak Spanish. We conclude and get out to ride on.

This is how they roll in this region of Spain, if you're rolling in a Toyota Yaris. PFA? Odd that. And a sticker I don't want. Not that I'm anti it, mind.

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There's some very good riding in not so great conditions. It rains, not too hard, but to get on needs care. We stop again for coffees after a good run.

Ever felt like someone is waiting for you? Our brushes with the Guardia Civil have become more pronounced. I can't believe we're not going to get a tug somehow.

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Back to the road. How factually incorrect this is..

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We ride up to a viewpoint where the dogs are living that look after the cattle. See? There's one. I really like this picture.

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Of course, it was the Singapore F1 today, and we leave the coffee stop once the Guardia Civil bugger off and the costa is clear. But what we now have is a procession of mobile vegetables out on the road living their F1 dreams. Firstly I get a slap-headed Mercedes driver coming up a hairpin, taking the wrong side of the road up the inside with, ahem, me just presenting myself on the way in. Good job I could see him on the way up eh.
Then, I have a guy with his pillion on a purple Honda, again making an appearance from a left hander on the wrong side of the road. Then a youngster in an ancient Ford Fiesta 'having it' well over the white line.

When I have a succession of those odd kind of moments I tend to pull over and stop for a minute, almost a break-the-rubbish-karma if you will, and to reset to normality. So I stop to take a photo or two.

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The Picos really is/are truly remarkable..

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So back to the road, with a hope all has changed. But no. This time I get a succession of three cretins on their matching white Can-Am Wheelbarrow tricycles, obviously pushing on and all over the place and on my tarmac. FFS! Feck off, won't you..!

Blimey, what a grumpy old sod I'm becoming.

Fortunately, about five minutes later we're dropping in to Potes to conclude the day of riding. I'd paid no attention at all to where we were, so it came as a joyous surprise. How nice it is not to be navigating..

The evening is spent in a hippy bar drinking good Belgian beer before retiring to the hotel for excellent lamb chops..

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Friendly service..

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Yeah..!
 
another great trip being shared :beerjug: thanks for taking the time Rob:beer::jager:friday
 
Cheers :thumb

Potes to Soria


Woken by a chorus of ringing cowbells. An early morning traffic jam of sorts..

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Well fed from those ever so nice people at Pena Sagra we're soon off to the hills and away. We head North for a few km's and then we're going East. Met this little fella on a corner and we had a chat..

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The roads decrease to not very much at all. We head up tracks in to the hills..

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Donkeys living dangerously. That's one hell of a drop, you know..

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So we convene for the Picos & District First Annual Super Bock Stout Pork Pie Throwing Contest. I had been brought by Brian a gift of four pork pies that were reduced as going off even before the voyage from Plymouth to Santander was over. We'd run the gauntlet with a couple already the other day but decided nearly a week in a cosy pannier was time enough. Having the two-bob bits on a bike isn't much fun, been there, done that, and given the recent cheese incident we decided to give the remainder a proper send off.

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Another great riding day and after a not too arduos 180 or so miles we roll up in the town of Soria.

I haven't given a thumbs down to a Spanish venue yet, though sad to say that Soria gets that honour. Our view was 'So remarkably unremarkable'. The town was just, well, dull. We had a good walk round, and if there was much of interest, charm or character, we missed it. Out for a pint, there were some sort of nibbles aparthied- we get nothing but everyone else does. 'These are local nibbles for local people'.
Or perhaps we just look like we've had enough of them maybe. Hmmm.

Normally I only buy a sticker for places I've liked and would remember, but I bought some crappy horse sticker thing as a reminder that I would remember this place as it was so unmemorable. The hotel was nice, though I s'pose.

Mmmm.. Copyright theft..

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We do eventually get a decent Menu del Dia, but that's about it for Soria..
 
Soria to Jaca

ballistic's plans haven't come to fruition with his pal Ted, so it looks like we'll be riding together for a bit longer. I was going to head back South on my own, but plans merge somewhat, so today the destination will be the desert and the Bardenas Reales park- the only semi-arrid desert in Northern Spain.

Time for petrol, courtesy of Repsol and TV's very own Alf Garnett..

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We stop for some provisions. Touratech Half Baguette Holder, finished in low quality plastic, only @ 279 Euros, plus 49 Euros post & packing.

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And it isn't long before we're there.

We roll up at the visitor centre, and the only signs of life are two other UK registered GS adventures, owned by Steve and Clive, who we meet up with. They're looking to have a trawl around the park too.

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So we have a chat, and then head to the source of info at the visitor centre. We're given a run down of what tracks we can ride by the rather nice Lucia.

So off we go for a trundle round the gravel.

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'Tis an impressive place. I keep my eyes peeled for Clint Eastwood in a travel blanket coming over the horizon on a horse..

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Lunch stop. All of a sudden there were four..

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How!

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I succeed in getting lost with stopping for photos and whatnot and taking a wrong turn. I do however manage to find Spain's 'Área de cincuenta y un'..

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Trust me, I'm going so bloody slowly that the dust had to be photoshopped on..

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I am found and we're all back for a ride in to the destination of choice for this evening, Jaca.

The terrain changes back to greenery. Sometimes you just have to stop and look..

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In the meantime, Steve and Clive decide to join up with us tonight.

We have a tremendous Menu del Dia at a place known by ballistic; plenty of Zaragoza Amber Beer, Vino Blanco and good old bike chat. A good night and a good laugh it was.

Later, back to HQ, and we all fall into a ridiculously small lift, pissed up, and pressed the button. It went nowhere, and we couldn't open the doors either. Oh dear.

Luckily, we were spotted were rescued by the Hotel Owner, a little guy in a check shirt, but he kind of reminded me of a mini Lou Ferrigno from the Incredible Hulk as he prised the lift doors open with gritted teeth.. 'You won't like me when I'm angry..' :D

:beerjug:
 
Jaca to Mora de Rubielos

The Sun has got his hat on
Hip hip hip hooray
The Sun has got his hat on
And he's coming out to play
(Just Elsewhere, that is)


:( :mad:

It rained so hard last night it actually woke me up at 3am. I suppose I'm getting picky. I've been so used to good weather over the summer that I've really been spoiled. Eventually, after listening to the rain for half an hour I drift off and wake up just after 9.30, so pretty late, and it's still sodding raining.

The Hotel owner again jokes about me not getting in the lift and breaking it again. I'd be upset if it wasn't actually the truth- too many Menu Del Dias, Bocadillos, Tapas, general nibbles and Estrella. I really must see to that.

Said Hotel chappy says that it’s the first rain they've seen since July 15th, so he's more pleased to see it than I think we are. Over breakfast we break out the computer, and Sat24.com gives us a comedy satellite picture of a huge bank of cloud with an outline of Spain beneath. Not promising. So we pondered what we should do today: Have a lazy day and stay again, assured of another quality meal tonight, and a nice venue in Jaca, or move on.

We meet the owners of the 2 very new S1000RR's and the K1300S that are sat in the garage. Their Ferry to Santander was cancelled, so they rode all the way here, and now it is raining cats and dogs, they don't seem exactly chuffed about things. They're going out to have a wander in town.

Steve and Clive are heading North, back to the Pyrenees and in the General direction of Calais. They ponder whether to go over the top or through the tunnel. A French couple tell of Snow on the peaks, and I think that kind of makes the decision for them, that said they're no strangers to snow from chatting last night :eek: Well 'ard..! :D

Eventually we conclude to move on, and a route is hatched to join up with some Michelin Green routes to East of Zaragoza that head South. It might be good, it might be rubbish, you pays your money, you takes your choice. By the time I've got my stormtrooper suit on and gotten down to the bikes the rain has stopped, and things don't look so bad.

Observe: Rotund GS'ers ride; Lithe, irritatingly fit S1000RR riders go shopping :D

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And so to the road we go.

More local Street Furniture..

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The newly replenished rivers are a rather fetching beige colour..

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Never has the turn of phrase 'You snooze, you lose' been more appropriate. The riding is great stuff- I'm so glad we hadn't taken the easy option to stay at the hotel.

Great scenery, yet again..

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Aside from a small boring part navigating around Zaragoza itself all on the road is, as I say, very good indeed. The Michelin Green Road we eventually take South is particularly spectacular. The sun comes out and the roads are deserted, leaving us to have a leisurely play on the tarmac.

Passes to navigate..

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Towns up in the hills..

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After some 250 miles, the last one hundred or so being a real riot, we take a break where we are. The place looks good; I get a good vibe. I find a promising looking place on the internet. I lead in to town for the destination, and after about 200 meters of leading Brian to the destination I turn the corner.. and.. straight in to a Brass Band. Seriously.. :D

I missed the band during avoidance manouevers and wasn't quick enough with the camera, but here's some of the following parade. I think she likes me... ;)

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Aha. It turns out tonight is festival 'San Miguel'. Four days of celebrations, beginning later tonight. There will be bullfighting, bands, booze, food, all that sort of stuff. And we have a balcony overlooking the place. How cool is that?

The most helpful hotel manager gets us garage space just up the road and we're set for the evening. He's careful to tell us that 'they don't kill the bull tonight' as not to offend our tree-hugging non-spanish sensitivities..

Celebrations..

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Spanish Dodgems are just as traffic free and empty as Spanish roads :D

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Sort of a bullfight..

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Careful, now..

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As Brian has already kindly observed, I (and I should say actually, we were not able to participate in evasion activities as we were both too fat to fit through the bars to the refuge) :D

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We buy a revolving chicken for dinner.. Quality peasant fayre it is too..

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The Palancia band (who start at 1am..)

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It's a great sight to see with the locals partying it up and dancing about. We turn in at about 2.30am as we'll be riding tomorrow and the temperature has really dropped, not at all flip flop friendly- I'm freezing! Back at HQ we can still hear the partying- the band have a break at around 3.45 but are still going when I'm nodded off at about 4.15 or so I guess. And its only Wednesday night/Thursday Morning as it were, and day one of the Festival..

What a gobsmackingly curious and interesting experience… wow :eek
 
Mora de Rubielos to Elche de la Sierra

Well, it isn't raining too badly this morning, in fact I'd go so far as to call it 'acceptable light drizzle'. We pack away and opt for a 'see how it goes day' once again. Despite a lack of sleep, we're up at 9.30 or so and out in not so long. To the road, and to the South. The weather forecast is not good, but hey ho.

Bad fires here not long ago..

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Burned vegetation.. And the new coming right along behind it. Fascinating :thumb

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More passes..

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.. And another photo I really, really like :thumb

There's some more dogged progress in the murky, rainy conditions, with the highlights of cheek-clenching-tippy-toeing around slippy corners. I'm not in the mood for music at all, so the monotony is relieved by a podcast of the Radio 5 live up-all-night World Football Phone-in (actually a very high quality therapeutic piece of listening- it actually has a fan base of people who don't even like football).

I note a lot of friendliness from truckers and the like- V-salutes, thumbs up, in what I interpret as a real approval that we are out riding in such crap conditions. We must be hardcore.. Recognition at last! :)

Resident routing bloodhound ballistic looks to find a smaller road to bimble on, but finds a track which ends up as gravel for the next 12km- and in what is turning in to even heavier rain we u-turn and give it a miss. That is a wise move, unless he wants to wait forever for me at the next junction.

It now rains so incredibly hard as we run in to the town of Elche de la Sierra. The going is really quite treacherous by now. Where it hasn't rained for so long, the roads are covered in oil and other miscellaneous shite. Looking over the bikes, they're covered in all of that too; there are oil residues all over the bikes and they look just like one big oil leak, never seen anything like it :eek

We shelter courtesy of a Repsol station. The waters converge on us as we watch..

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We can't get any sense out of the internet, and touch screen phones don't like wet hands. So we stop by a hotel we passed up the hill and we're soon sorted with a very good room. All told a total of 220 miles today, so we're pleased to have done pretty well. Dinner is had and we discover a very, very good local wine, which Brian is now on-line and trying to order from Tesco's.

Bike Security: The first lesson in 'How not to be seen'. Park behind a pot plant.

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Alternatively, why not just wedge your bike in the hotel entrance? :D

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A gent in the hotel bar tells us it’s the first rain here for six months. No wonder it was hairy on the road then.

The rain briefly lets off tonight, and I take the night air. There's an amazing atmosphere and incredible smell of pine in the air; you can really feel it is the first rain for so long. Quite something :thumb2
 
Fantastic Rob.:thumb Even in all the rain, you're still having a ball:beerjug::beer::jager
 
I'm getting e-mails from Roberto's wing-man ballistic sounds like they're having way too much fun, chatting to local Police and depleting Sangria reserves...

:D

We could always go ride down and give them some help ;)

:beerjug:
 
More to follow shortly. Internet here patchy at very best, photo uploads take forever :mad:

Fantastic Rob.:thumb Even in all the rain, you're still having a ball:beerjug::beer::jager

Still fantastic :thumb

do you think hes got lost?

I'm getting e-mails from Roberto's wing-man ballistic sounds like they're having way too much fun, chatting to local Police and depleting Sangria reserves...

.. Lost in Sangria as Mr K's man on the inside has indicated :D :beer:

But there is more to tell :thumb2

We could always go ride down and give them some help..

Anytime my friend, see you soon :cool: :thumb :beerjug:

If only.......

:tears

:(
 


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