Round 3: Ramble around Iberia

Roberto

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And... we're back. Round three will begin shortly...

:bounce1

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:beer: :D :JB :friday :ChrisKelly :moped: .. etc.


:beerjug:
 
the way stuffs gone on

im expecting an island or two and another continent :thumb :D

:clap:clap:clap
 
Before we go

Well, the plan was to get home, get the bike serviced and bits fixed, see the family, have a booze with a few mates, catch an ex-works pal's leaving do, have a pit stop at the Cotswolds Carry on, return home and then bounce off again.

I got home from Ramble 2 at around 5am on Wednesday and the local term 'cream crackered' was definitely suitable. Most of the day is spent doing a lot of stuff but what adds up to not a great deal. Wednesday night I am summoned to the local pub for a few beers, which becomes a few more beers, with a few unexpected guest appearances that added up to a few more beers too. Thursday morning wake up call is in the debris of Dixy Chicken with the TV still on.

So most of Thursday was a write-off due to sleeping in, taking care of glam items like opening post, realising your car tax expired at the end of July, washing things, etc etc.

Thursday night again is again on the lash. An ex-works leaving do for a couple of hours and then following that meeting a couple of the lads at the Taj Mahal. A delightful evening with another fuzzy end.

Fridy morning starts with a bump. I'm a bit late as I have to get up to Steve at Motoscot for the repair and general therapy to the bike. But the Taj Mahal hasn't gone well, and lets just say there was an extended period of listening to Radio 5 live in the smallest room of the house which definitely wasn't needed (Note to self: Have I enough funds remaining to put a contract out on Nicky Campbell?) I digress, forgive me.
I make it Luton way and drop off the bike for the service and emergency treatment. I set out to visit a friend locally, and find that the Taj Mahal hasn't had the last word as yet.

Steve had kindly promised to work on Saturday Morning to get me on my way if needed… so here's ready for COUTC on the loan bike if necessary..

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The verdict becomes that as much can be done is done by late Friday. There's a speed sensor that still needs replacing. Damn Electricals. 1200GS, give me a Royal Enfield any day* But, the oil leak is fixed and all of the other first aid has been attended to :)
Downside is, I noted that the Suspension ESA wouldn't adjust and that couldn't be worked around, which is a bit of a pain as I am planning on having a pillion for the first part of Ramble 3. But them's the breaks, and for the way I ride it could be worked around.

It's late, and the last couple of days have caught up with me, including an on the road event I could describe as a 'Shart'. Although a minor event, this tells me the tent and more beer tonight is a stupid idea, plus with everything else outstanding it would just end up too much. So I opt to not head to COUTC. Shame on me :(

* And a gun so I can shoot myself :p
 
Saturday Night's Alright (for farklin')

So as mentioned, this time around the plan is to have a pillion for the first two weeks, and then onwards again alone for the next couple.

It is now Saturday night and I am to meet my companion.

I had said that dinner is on me and her wish would be my command. 'As it happens, I really fancy a Prawn Curry' was the request. Uh-huh. Joy. So, it's a reluctant quick visit to the Star of Bengal for the pre-flight briefing and five pints of Cobra, and then it's back for a suitably confused packing session. It is at this point, that I find that the good lady companion has brought enough clothes and shoes for a two week carribean cruise.

A wise biking owl said once to me, to prepare for a trip, 'put your clothes and money on the bed, and then take half the clothes and double the money'. Well, in this case, we halved the clothes, then halved them again, then again, etc until we got to something we could work with. If we could have done the same on the money side I would have never needed to work again.

And so, eventually we reach some sort of joke compromise which will see me in pretty much the same gear for the next month. Just call me 'Roberto-one-shirt' then.

But, on the plus side, by about 11.30 I've managed to strap on most of Top Shop's summer collection, plus the few meagre bits and bobs for me and the other minor incidentals like camping gear for two.

So, we're ready then.
 
............

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hoping not (they have places for clothes in other countries :D)
 
People's Republic of Romford to Honfleur

The alarm goes at 4am to see us off to Dover, and well received it is not. After copious amounts of faffing around we eventually get on the road for an easy run to the coast. And so it's back to the P&O Spirit of France, a very decent way it is to travel too, and at £18 for the bike and two people rather good value.

I was set for a coffee, until I got the scent of this..

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And in good time we're in France again. Can't say enough about the ferry. Excellent friendly service.

It is indeed wonderful to be back in France after even a short absence. Excellent riding. Soon enough we're seeing the Pont De Normandie, which is signalling to us that the journey for today is at an end.

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To Hornfleur and the Motel Les Bleus, a sweet little place.

The only criticism is that the Wi Fi was slow and about as strong as a gnat fart, and loading page was a tired and long drawn out affair, as Alan Partridge would put it, 'like overtaking a national express coach in a Renault Megane'. Frustrating. So no updates from Hornfluer then, I'm afraid.

So out and about it is. The evening in the very picturesque town..

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The blurb I'd read about talked about Cruise Liners visiting Hornfleur. I thought that strange, but then all was revealed. River cruisers. Very nice looking too..

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Moules and Frites..

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A Local Rose Cider and a little Afflingem..

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A great little town and highly recommended..

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...

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Well, that’s a good start.
 
Honfleur to St Nazaire

The following morning its back to it. The GS in its new livery, outside the charming little Motel.

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Getting packed is a painless experience, for I have delegated it to the good lady of the ramble. She packs the bags, I pack the bike. Simples. And here she is..

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The morning is packed away to a little foreign music television, always a good source of entertainment. Alex Ferrari Bera Bera Bare Bare. A ridiculous French accordion fusion pop dance number with talking knickers. Just fancy that. I would embed it, but You Tube has blocked it on copyright grounds, I would really say should be blocked on the matter of good taste. Anyway, in the UK, well, knock yourself out.. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KacJzAR9_io

To the road. It's raining and so we opt to take a little motorway to see if things change. Fortunately they do. Nothing to report here, motorway is motorway, aside from at the toll booth on the opposite side there's a van on fire, with two guys desperately trying to unhook a caravan from it. Not good. Fortunately the weather improves so we dip south on to the quieter D roads. Typical France, easy motoring, pleasant views.

Taking in the sights at Domfront..

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On the road..

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Stopping at the Café Du Commerce in Pouance, as frequented by Larry David, co-creator of 'Seinfeld' and star of 'Curb Your Enthusiasm'..

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In amongst the arty pictures, landscapes, cows and flowers lies this gem. 'I was hungry' was the explanation..

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And so to where the road leads to our port destination, veering away from Gary Glitter's European destination of choice..

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There's just time for a quick trolley dash at the Super U in preparation for our ferry. I was quite proud of my results from the GSer 5minute shop-off against the clock.

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Sadly it was a no for the Kebab flavoured crisps, though..

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So we're cruising in to St Nazaire, and following the signs for the Port. Le Port. Which turns out not to be the ferry port. They're building ferries though, and bloody big cruise ships here, but no car ferries for the shuttling of peeps elsewhere. It's a big place. We trawl round for a time without success, and we can't see anything that resembles a car ferry either. Back out, and to the signs to Le Port Ville. No joy again. Time is knocking on and we're starting to get a bit concerned. But there's no sign of it, and no signs for it either. We ask a guy at a café, he seems sort of to know what we're talking about, but can't help. We ask two guys working on the road, they've no idea at all. Finally we stop at a bar with two gents sat outside looking laid back and typically French. I ask in my broken French for the Ferry port, Ferry to Gijon. 'I have no idea what you're talking about' responds the one guy in English. 'Ah, you speak English!' I say. 'Yes, sometimes' he says. He knows what we want, and knows where we need to go, but 'it's complicated' he says, 'so I will show you'. He waddles off to get his keys. He ambles across to his VW Golf, pulls up and rolls down the window. 'Forgive me', he says 'normally my English is very good, but I am very drunk'. Ah. 'Follow.. Allez' he beckons, and in a flash takes off at high speed down the back streets. I conceed it is indeed complicated, but not as complicated as the Police conversations would probably be..

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But some five or so very odd minutes of persuing this guy around the port town, he rolls us out at the sign for the Car Ferry (and there is only one sign so it seems, great job St Nazaire). He leans out of the window 'I am so glad I can help you' he smiles. We thank him and tell him to drive carefully. His laughter and eye rolling now tells us that he is pretty lashed. Bloody hell :D :eek:

After the customary messing around to check in we're on our way.

The ship sails just after 9pm, and we sail under the impressive Pont De St Nazaire..

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Of course, when we get to the cabin I realise the folly of 'you pack the bags' part of the deal, as despite instructions I have no trousers in the overnight bag, and thus have to go to the bar in my jim-jams. Nice.

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The LD lines ship is really kicking about overnight in the Bay of Biscay, noted for its swell. I really like it.

Spain beckons tomorrow! :JB

:beerjug:
 
How did I know the start would be anything but boring:D:beerjug:
 
Gijon to Pola de Somiedo

Last night saw a late night cabin picnic; Cheeses, hams, bread, crackers, nuts, Pelforth and various wines of France whilst being moderately bobbed around by the sea, all adding to the general enjoyment of things, topped off with a grand sleep and with a midday arrival so no need to get up with the larks.

Early in the morning I am reminded of another Female quality that has long been absent from my mind: They rabbit on. I become aware of this when I'm walking around on deck the following morning and a lady from Northern Ireland approaches and says 'I'm sorry to hear about your trousers' :D

So we dock on schedule and we're on the road about 45 minutes after. Finally I get to motor in Spain (well a couple of hours crossing from the Algarve in a Ford Focus on a boozed up golf trip doesn't really count). Spain's entry checks consist of a statue like sunglass sporting uniformed bloke with a huge mostache and folded arms. We drift past unnoticed. The thinking is to get away from the port and stop for a moment by the coast to finish last night's picnic. Gijon is easily navigated, that's a relief. Sometimes I'm a tad apprehensive at new countries on the bike. There is a light rain now, but there are still people on the beach and in the sea.

Parked up by the beach. Less is sometimes more. I'm particularly liking the suspension and exhaust arrangements..

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We set off for the Somiedo National Park, which is not a long run from Gijon, and we'll see how we get on. I figure the Picos can come later; every other bike on the ferry seemed headed there, so why not be a tiny bit different for now anyways. The rain clears away and we're cheered with some good sunshine and empty roads, bar from some looney in a Suzuki Vitara who almost got us. The going is fairly brisk and slows as the roads narrow and become more scenic as we delve further into the park.

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Signs you seldom see on the North Circular. It certainly got my atencion..

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Lovely..

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We reach Pola de Somiedo and stop for a coffee. It's a great little place in the valley, picturesque with some good looking bars and restuarants. We note the place we stop at for a coffee has a camp site 50m up the hill, so I look it over and that's it settled.

Parked up, tent up. Learning to play the mattress..

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'I hear these new fangled ones are going to be water cooled. Whatever next..' said the cat.

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Cracking little place, this..

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Let's have a quick ramble to the supermarket then..

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Aha.. Tetra-Pak wine available for 65p. Now that'll be getting spangled on the cheap..

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Overseas supermarkets and products are a never ending source of fun for me. Tiny things and all that I s'pose..

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Locals out for a walk with the kids..

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Somiedo Bears. Can't help but notice the campsite has a lot of fencing.

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Cider, once again, is the tipple around these parts. It's poured from a height in shot sizes and then chugged.. It works, though..

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And a fine evening meal with the finest of Asturias fayre..

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.. And so to bed.
 


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