The Run in to Barcelona

Leave last nights hotel this morning with what looked like a 36 mile ride. Thinking all are climbing is all over again into moor hills. As we ride along I have to pinch myself to believe we are nearly at destination end.  On the way in some 15 miles out we get a text from the girls to say they have landed. It's a bustling city and riding the bike in crazy traffic is not relaxing. We both need eyes in the back of my head. 

We meet the girls  at Arc de Tromphe and enjoyi an afternoon of Tapas and a few beers. Commander and I story swap with the girls. It has surely been a  fantastic experience . We never quite understood the climbing involved but it came and we got on with it.  In any case we do it because we enjoy it. 

As always the usual anti-climax. You plan and it's over in a flash !! Great to see the girls - Sarah and Lorraine are on top form!  - but the bubble of freedom and travel over. It's a great city and on mundane it Monday buzzes as as all cities do in a different way to what you would experience at home. 

I sit with Sarah now in some 23° enjoying a beer watching the world go round. It will be good tomorrow to wake up without a peddle

Thank you to everybody who kept in contact whilst we were away. Seven days Monday lunchtime to Monday lunchtime. Just shy of 40,000 climbing feet and 600 miles. - but still looking forward to my wood burner on return xxx

The commander and Spall - over and out until next year xxxx

Tremp - Igualada Day 7

When we arrived last night we were 116 miles from Barcelona. The Hotel is simple but pleasant. Three generations of family owners are to be seen lurking behind  reception. We square everything up. have a shower then off into the town. There is a large Central Avenue that runs through the Main Street. Either side is flanked by small Tapas houses Who appear to have their own little domains. The commander and I wandered down through the centre in peacock fashion looking for a Wi-Fi spot. We find one, sit down with a beer and The commander smashes a glass. He is cross with himself blaming the edge of the table. I wonder whether I should take the blame just to make him feel better about it. We wander-further down to eat and for the first time on this trip meet an English couple - an exceedingly interesting combination of solicitor and class A drugs counsellor. Returning to the original bar for the Wi-Fi we enjoy a coffee (sorry - Tea of course for the commander) then out of the blue we are lectured on Catalonian independence by the Barman. He rambles on about how unlucky the Scottish were in Alex Salmond style obsession. As we leave leave he rants 'remember Barcelona is Catalonian' We smile and nod offering the approval he was looking for although not really giving a shite. 

Today we leave the hotel and it looks like it's going to rain all day. We are both in pensive mood. ( sorry I have been told to edit this I was in pensive mood apparently the commander was as happy as the miserable bastard he usually is)  It's always difficult as the penultimate Day. You look forward to the ride for a long time it's as good as cracked,  and are both just looking forward to getting to destination end. We both encountered a weird phenomenon i'm glad we discussed it! We both feel as if there is nothing left in us. We are in granny gear and panting like Boar Pigs. In fact it was all illusion. After the days in the mountains The roads we perceived as flat were actually  5% climbs and worse the roads we perceived as downhill were flat! It was not good in the back of the head a Demon was telling me that 80 miles today would be a struggle. After some 12 miles we stop to discuss at the bottom of the Final Col - we address satty and the proof was there. We crack our final col de Camious a long pull to 1100 m. As we drop out again we were hoping that most of the climbing was done. In many ways ignorance is bliss because it wasn't. Chugging on to a town called Sort and looking behind us to see the pyrenees disappearing into the distance we stop for a coffee and chocolate ( this was a special occasion for the commander as he experienced his first white  hot chocolate) from there we push on believing the climbing the game is over -  but it's not.  it's endless. Pull after Pull and not much talking. On top of it we are also travelling through an area which I can only describe as pig shit Alley. Bordered by intensive pig units the stench is unbelievable and persistent flies in-your-face at every opportunity. Our plans to stop at Manressa are tharwted due to a no Velo rule again - we push on to a town called Igulada. We have some nice digs but it seems nothing else is open. I assume they are all at confession. It was a hard day today and we are both feeling knackered. Some 4700 feet of climbing over nearly 80 miles and an energy sapping wind sees us through to our refuge. We are now 36 miles from Barcelona and looking forward to meeting the girls tomorrow. They land in Barcelona at 10:30 and we meet at the Olympic stadium. Happy Days. 

Touch base tomorrow ( God willing)

los ciclistas x

Luchon - Tremp Day 6

Last night The Commander and I popped out for our daily debrief and planning meeting armed as usual with mapping. The Town is a Tour de France  favorite and as such our search of local knowledge leaves us with a huge dilemma. Our route to tommorrows stopover at Tremp (Which is the only place we feel assured of accomodation) through the Vielha Tunnel has been considered a definate no no by our host for the evening - Jean Claude of Le Hotel Panoramic . 'Nobody  would ever use it' he tells us. 'Its12 km and we even shut our windows up when we go through it by car due to noise and dirt' He also told us the N230 is one of the nastiest roads on the range. The only other alternative is a road  to the west N260 which would make tommorrow  a daytime impossibility with two more cols for us with bags. As we ponder our position (and our families at home) reluctantly we have to make the decision  to taxi the first Col cutting some 3.5 hours riding out. ( if we worked it) A difficult decision to make but in context realistic.  Our host again looked after us sorted the logistics (and also broke into my safe which which was password incorrect) 

The commander is mumbling again- (We alternate payment for accommodation) 'How come I get the most expensive stopover tabs?' I chuckle inwardly. Within 5 minutes we are at the Supermarche and in his quest to save a bob or two he try's tucking me up with two daytime lunch stops in row. I have to stay on the  ball.

 With a hop skip into Spain and with the help of Eric ourChauffeur over the Pass We go to Viealla and then hit the Col de Barbergue at 2117 metres where the embarrassment of the day is being both overtaken by a cross country skier practising on wheels!!. This was a long and winding drag to a good altitude but only really fierce at the top. It is in fact the King and Queenof Spain's favourite ski resort! (Although meaning nought to me) whatever it looks grim before the snow fall. Rugged up we then hit the down hill. This was to die for and could have easily been the case. Examination by Garmin showed 57 mph on the decent. It could possibly be one of the most exhilarating downhill we have ever experienced. From then it was just like a recovery ride. The next 56 miles only produced 650 feet of climbing. We had surely left The Pyrenees. The valley ride was an unforgettable experience. 

As I mumbled along I wondered why life couldn't always feel this good? 'Get a grip you prick' something told me inside my head' The scenery changed constantly . The bare rock of the snowless Central Pyrenees behind us as we hit the treeline. Suddenly a whole new Vista was in front of us. Autumnal leaves boasting an array of different colour. And for the first time for a long while I notice we are following in the same direction babbling water to a sea. We stopped for lunch by the river in Sort  and then push on to Tremp the stop for tonight. Again another pleasure as we are diverted from the tunnel through the mountain to the old road. It's a Catalonian Grand Canyon - stunning and we stopped to video it . The view in front of us opens up - we are now in the Spanish foothills and above us thermal searching buzzards hover as they eagle eye their prey. Giant size grasshoppers lying in the road and through the villages wrinkled old boys with sunshine shrivelled complexions stare at each other over a glass of wine. The scenery and the populous remind me very much of an Old fashioned Western and although not very far from where we reside feels 1,000,000 miles away. We now find ourselves in our hotel for the evening €32 each with Wi-Fi and b-day (although I'm not sure which way round I sit on it) another fantastic day covering some 71 miles starting at 2240 feet finishing at 1600 ftand at its highest 6880 ft. We debrief before the hotel tonight and both agree we should have allowed one more day. The Pyrenees Cols are to be given massive respect. The experience of riding through them will stay with us forever. Certainly not meaning to sound over romantic but saying it like I was thinking it. A fantastic days cycling - over and out

The Tourists xx 

La Mongie -.Luchon Day 5

La Mongie - The village we stayed in last night had a population of 11 people - in ski season up to 8000 bizarre ! Only 3 km from the Col Summit our hosts Pierre and Regine of Hotel Choucas spoil us - I wondered whether or not they liked us or whether they were just pleased to see somebody. After spending a few hours in their company it was obvious they were just good caring people who enjoyed making their clients feel comfortable. It made good for an evening's rest after a spar with a mountain. With plates mopped clean with French bread The commander and I hit the sack at 9:15. Again I understand this may appear boring and lacking imagination - frankly I couldn't be bothered how it appears it's great! As I was nodding off I realise there is the sound of silence - absolutely no noise whatsoever and a privilege that we rarely enjoy in our very busy Gloucestershire lives. I ponder on how different it will be in  a months time at the start of the ski season. This novelty being  wiped out by the sound of piss pots returning from nightclubs in the early hours followed by snow clearers scratching away making good for the next day's ski. 

We wake this morning again and English breakfast prepared specially for us. The weather is dire the mist is still down. We rug up like Antartic  explorers only our eyes exposed to the elements  Lights blazing as It's still dark -   we start the descent. 4 km into it my back light falls off. Fine, we regather it but then I noticed I've left my water bottles in the hotel. 'Pop back and get them for be will ya cock? The reply is censored!

We reach the bottom and then immediately turn right to the Col de Aspin  ( The first of the next three Cols to navigate us through through the pyrenees and back to Spain) The going is hard after the Tourmalet yesterday afternoon. As any cyclist knows the biggest pain in the arse being the necessity to dress and undress climb dependent. We hit the top at 1490 m and then down the valley for another Decent to Arreau where I pick up another puncture. We are down in the dumps- it's pissing down, we are cold and nobody loves us. Self-pity is flowing like the mountain streams. We stop for a chocolate in Arreau and consider our position. Can we crack the last two Cols today or is this a bridge too far? We then travel down a with the Valley to our next accent Col de Peyresoyrde at 1569 m. There are markers every kilometre right through the climbs - they give you information on the next kilometres climb in terms of its verocity. We both decided they are shite because they seem to dish out more bad information and good information. It still raining and after completing this climb we are honest with each other and agree that indeed the third Col is out of reach for the day. The priority being to find somewhere where we can have a hot bath and warm our bums back up again. We find this treat in Luchon right on the Spanish French Border. The hotel receptionist asks us where we have come from? I tell her - 'Do you have support she asks ? ' I wished to explain to her that I would rather have my knackers trapped in a gate but the translation may have caused offence. We are more upbeat now water bottles replaced - kit washed and hanging up todry for  another soaking tommorrow and one more Col to crack - hopefully then more downhill as we pull away from the Central Pyrenees. I report we are riding well as a team. Both sets of heels have never been down at the same time - A very useful combination. Not big mileage today - near 50 miles but 5800 ft of climbing and felt like it. Meeting the Commander shortly for appertif - touch base tommorrow 

Le Commandant et Epeler. X

Pau - La Mongie Day 4

Last night was the best meal of the ride. As mentioned yesterday had to do divert to downtown Pau. We were well fed up but worked out to be a real treat. It was a strange set up -  nice apartments in the middle of an industrial area, no eating or drinking in the complex but strangely an amazing restaurant that only can only be described as Gallagher Park Pau? We head off this morning after a hearty breakfast and the request of bacon. Cooked specially for us. Again the breakfast conversation drifts to ablution information. ,'Have you been windy on this ride' ? the commander asks i'm always windy I replied 'but maybe more windy than usual' we discussed the intricacies of farting through Butt Cream and both agree it's not pleasant. 

We leave Pau again to a good climb - The temperature is already getting higher and perspiration begins almost immediately - The damp road is splattered with dead frogs and snails - that's that's probably why they've exploited them for eating?

The road takes is to Lourdes it's been freshly surfaced for us. It's beautiful riding through mountain villages as as we circumnavigate the foothills. I feel fed up with  cars who should feel The need to share them with us. In Lourdes ( which incidentally has the biggest ratio of nuns to bars than anywhere else in the world) over our chocolate stop we make our decision - we'll get the Toumalet done today. A phone call to the hotel on the descent in La Mongie confirms our decision. From Lourdes we take an amazing road through some beautiful mountain  villages. This however only occurred due to The blow the whistle and a strict telling off from Gendaramarie as we attempt to chug up a no cycling Road. The gorge that leads you to base camp for the Tourmalet is breathtaking. I felt fearful as I  popped my head over less than sufficient safety barriers. We lunch and off we go - Big boys like me are not designed for climbing. It was cracked but it wasn't pretty. The last 2 km hit some 12% for good periods. The commander was more than pleased with himself having got to the summit before me (and so he should be) for sure though I will be gloating over the downhill tomorrow! It's ironic that last night we sit in Pau  eating outside in 22° at 9 o'clock in the evening and tonight we find ourselves in a ski resort on the other side of the Mountain (3k from summit)  in the only hotel open in the resort. It's freezing, it's damp, it's misty, it's desolate  - being in a ski resort when there is no skiing is like walking into a party the night after it's happened. However it's good for the commander and I - with the Tourmalet box ticked and and planning to consider for the next few days who needs company? As I climbed the Mountain it occurred to me how most people have hobbies that should the pain get greater the enjoyment would be less. Why are we different? Without pain there would be no pleasure. I just think we are all weird masochists.  I think 57 miles today and some 7 / 8 thousand climbing feet ( The commander is the statistician) Touch base toomorrow love and regards to everybody ( whichever is appropriate to you) 

Commander and Spall

Into France Day 3

A good nights sleep last night. I was awoken this morning to what I perceived as tinnitus but relieved to discover it was an alien mosquito in my left ear. Last nights meal was again adequate but we were the victims of local politics.  Instead of sending us to a perfectly good well priced restaurant 20 yards away(which we have missed) we were directed to the British rail cafe outside the station. The pasta dishes were microwaved and to this we were somewhat relieved as the hygiene of the Barman had much to be desired. The commander and I both decided that judging by his cough and indeed his capacity for a drink he should only be taxing his car six months at a time. I knew I was in Rugby country as madame ( of the hotel ) showed me proudly next morning a picture of her three sons all playing in the front row - iall  different ages the youngest being Hooker. 

Leave the Hotel grabbing food on the way through Lidel - The commander is a big fan of this shop based on its pricing structure. We then encounter of 500 foot climb out of the village with the wind in our face and  dancing autumnal leaves everywhere. A bumpy ride along the coastline through Biarritz and then on to Bayonne. I feel happy to be in France I still consider it my second country and feel more than at home 

We stopped for chocolate in Bayonne and then a fantastic ride along the river Pau. This was all down to the commander he Mapped this route out in military fashion. The flat Road ensured that the troops were still reasonably full of energy in the end of the day. It was better than pretty we were flanked all the way by kiwifruit plantations and withering maize ready for the chop. We rode for some 25 miles of seeing only three cars.  iWe rode in 30° of temperature. The ride reminded me of last year only three days from Rome. I considered the thoughts going through my head at this point in time following the loss of my parents and concluded that one year on I was in a far better place. 

We enjoyed lunch at a town along the river valley with the bench all to ourselves. This was followed by fantastic progress into Pau. As we approach Pau the foothills of the Pyrenees beckon us for a punch-up We sit and enjoy the obligatory beer to find out afterwards every hotel and the time is booked up. Its tourism conference - A strange concept as The event is totally disruptive for tourists. We find ourselves now 6K out of Pau both in disabled apartments  - there massive ! with our bikes in our rooms ( nice) as it's out of town not much about - 90 miles dead today but only 2500ft climbing.  We have  two plans for tomorrow either hit base camp and park up ( Luz St Sauvier) or if the roads not too hard from here tomorrow we have plans to accent  the Tourmalet  tomorrow afternoon. Homework done and some accommodation available on the descent if we confirm by midday tomorrow. The commander and I will make the decision tomorrow. Off for some food now and touch base tomorrow hopefully at the top of the Pyrenees

Les Cyclists x

Spain Day 2

Wow what a day! Bilbao  is a sprawling city and has the effect that most large cities have on me - A feeling of total insignificance in relevance to the size of the population  and also  (more worrying) bemusement as to where we would keep our pigs should we end up living there. Last night's meal was done and dusted in no time -  both feeling spaced out from the days riding. The beer was never going to be flowing - eyelids getting heavier and heavier. 10 PM we hit the sack – boring bastards. The accommodation i suits us as it's only drop in and go, it's clean but has many annoying facets. One being that the facilities are shared and the light is on a movement sensor meaning that if you don't dance whilst sat on the toilet you are in no time  in total darkness. We are getting back to routine and after an 8 o'clock meet straight to the local supermarket for The 1 PM pitstop fuel (anybody who followed last year's blog will understand this is pivotal point in the day for the commander and prevents him from becoming a whinging snail) we make hard work as we leave Bilbao. Much of the commanders amusement I get a puncture. its next door to a street full of whorehouses The commander suggest that we haven't got enough time to stop and anyway they wouldn't be any good at fixing punctures we then push outs of the city and then 28 miles later whilst eating the miles up The commander blows a tyre  mainly due to the fact he is too frugal to buy new ones before he leaves.  The Commander mutters 'that's when you know you've had value - when you've written it to destruction ' - False Economy ' I reply. Excuse the pun it's all becoming rather tiresome! We then push on through some fantastic countryside beautiful valleys reminiscent of the Aosta Valley. We stopped for lunch at Deba it's name sake being the River Valley we travelled through. The rest of our journey today was no less than fantastic.  As we skirted the Bay of Biscay hugging the coast tightly we witnessed sunbathers, fisherman staring anxiously at the floats and in the exposed areas surfs big as I either of us have ever witnessed before. Surfers Paradise. The angry waves surged over our pathway and drizzled salty water on very hot foreheads riding in some 25°C. Like the greedy pig's we are we were not happy with San Sebastion and agreed we had much more left in our legs. San Sebastien is full of people in wheelchairs and with limps all apparently searching for divine healing we felt there was nothing really wrong at present and pushed on. We now find ourselves in Hendaye ( France) enjoying a pint and the landlord fixes us up with digs in the local Hotel de Gare. 95 Miles today and nearly 4000 foot climbing again. Looking to head north to Biarritz and then south east along the River Valley hopefully in Pau tomorrow evening. I have been in trouble today for the questioning of some of the commanders navigation skills - he was not happy but I  explain that there have been more cock ups than would usually occur . The Spanish signposting has taken all the blame Thought for the day - spend some EU money on Spanish signposting it's shite!

Riding safe ( very American)

Le  Commander et Le Spall in France now xx