Category: europe

Feeling fully recharged I set off early heading for the port town of Benefacio at the south of Corsica. The ride would continue my journey on the N198 all the way to Benfacio.

The night before I’d stumbled upon a beach side hotel full of English, Even the barmaid wasn’t fooled by my “Une Bierre”. Wearing a Guinness t-shirt probably didn’t help. I’d been chatting to an English family who had been down the route I was taking on an excursion. They told me to expect heavy traffic and steep hills. They were incorrect on both parts.

The road reminded me of the route to Salamanca. One long road that seems to go on forever. Although cycling through the holiday towns broke it up a bit.

I passed a dead dog on the side of the road. In the UK I thought it was the law to pull over. It’s obviously not the same here. Poor thing!

The road started to wind a bit around Porto Vecchio and the last 20km to Benefacio was murder. I had a strong headwind and I had run out of water.

At Benefacio I jumped straight on the ferry to Sardinia. After arriving at the northerly tip I made my way to the nearest campsite according to my GPS.

Never managed to get drunk at the prices they wanted at the bar on the ferry, and never managed to get much sleep either. The arms on the chairs were thick metal so it’s not like you could even spread yourself across two chairs. Most people slept on the floor which in hindsight I probably should have done also.

Woke up early morning (when they turn the lights on) to find myself on the coast of Corsica. I don’t know much of its history but I bet when it was first discovered they thought it was paradise. Dominating mountains blanketed in lush thick trees, beautiful deep blue oceans and gorgeous weather. I could just about make all this out through my blurry vision and sore eyes.

I met a French cyclist on the ferry who was going to spend 15 days cycling around the island. He went the tourist route while I went straight down the main road towards Sardinia. Its Italy I want to get to now and unfortunately I didn’t have much time to research Corsica’s delights to spend any time appreciating them.

As I didn’t sleep a wink I didn’t want to push myself too hard so I finished my ride today at 11am. I’m about a quarter if the way down the island. I’ve had my first swim in the sea since the beginning of the trip and relax around the pool. Early night tonight so I feel fresh tomorrow.

I stayed at the lemon hotel. I think they buy out old Forumla 1 hotels and don’t bother doing them up. Still, it was cheap at 33 Euro including breakfast.

I left with sights set on Marseille, or more importantly, Corsica. I’ve heard bad things about Marseille from numerous people and have been told to avoid it at all cost because of crime. This was always my plan, but if I caught the ferry from Marseille rather than Nice it would save me two days riding. Maybe that sounds like I’m cheating a bit but I’m only cheating myself. Besides, cycling down Corsica then onto Sardinia actually adds distance on to my ride.

The day was short, only 60 miles in total and it took me no time at all. I’d found out the night before that the ferry didn’t leave until 19:00 and I arrived in Marseille just after dinner. I had time to sit around and check out a local bar before purchasing my ticket for the overnight ferry.

Today was a lot better than yesterday, although I swear I paid more than anyone on the ferry who have cabins and I’ve ended up with a reclining chair. That’s better than nothing I guess, I’ll rest tomorrow. Think I’ll get slightly tipsy tonight to help me sleep. The beers not cheap but the need is great.

It’s been one of those days where nothing seems to go right and I have a run of bad luck.

Firstly, I left the campsite and immediately got lost trying to find the coastal road that would take me north to Sete. I found one road but it said no cyclists so I had to go back to where I’d come from.

Secondly, I used my GPS to navigate me to Sete although it was on the setting to avoid Highways. This normally would be a good thing but it mean it was trying to get to Sete via all the minor roads. So I ended up going completely the wrong direction, and ended up further from Sete than when I started. It took me all afternoon to catch my time up and meant I had to ride over 100 miles today.

Thirdly, I get beeped at if I don’t use the cycle lanes. Normally I just ignore them but the one next to the beach looked ok so I joined it. With some speed behind me I hit some deep sand where the dune had spilled across the cycle path. I thought I was coming off, how I managed to control it I have no idea as my front wheel wasn’t even straight. I think the momentum helped to some degree.

Fourthly, Today has been the hottest day I’ve experienced since Portugal.

Fifthly, I joined the canal du Rhone from Aigues Mortes to Beaucaire. This was fine at first but the track ended so I had to get on the road. This is when my GPS packed in and kept turning itself off. It wouldn’t come on at all and this was my only form of navigation. Luckily it started working again after an hour or so, but for how long.

Finally, I booked into a lemon hotel. There are restaurants around but they are all shut and I just missed the supermarket too. I had a pizza delivered and when getting my fork out of my pannier it fell over. The lid came off my washing liquid and poured all inside my pannier, covering my sleeping bag.

Surely nothing else can go wrong today?

I’m just outside Beaucaire. I’m considering cycling to Marseille tomorrow and getting a ferry to Corsica as opposed to getting one from Nice.

I left early to make a good start. I knew I wanted to get as far as Agde as it looked a good distance. Today I had decided to try and follow some of the Eurovelo Mediterranean route. These are usually much prettier routes with less traffic, but wouldn’t usually be so direct.

I think I had the wind behind me as I picked up a good pace. A pace that would stay with me all the way to Port La Nouvelle. I followed a road that took me along a tiny strip of road that separated a few large lakes from the sea, although I’m pretty sure the sea was the source of the lakes. The traffic was heavy but the views of the Pyrenees in the distance were nice.

At Port La Nouvele I joined the Robine Canal which would take me all the way to Narbonne. I was a bit worried I might get a puncture as the path was rough and the stones were sharp. I constantly heard stones pinging out from under my tyres, but my trusty Schwalbe Marathon Kevlar tyres stayed strong.

At Narbonne I followed some country roads through little villages before joining the Canal Du Midi at Colombiers. The canal was very pretty with its tree lined paths and some of the biggest narrow boats I had ever seen. To go with that went the biggest locks I had ever seen. I stopped to watch three cruisers climb one lock at the same time. The amount of water required to fill each lock was immense. Just standing high on the path I could feel the force of the water and spray on my face. The boats had to tie themselves to the bank because of the force.

Upon reaching Beziers I was diverted north before I could go south to Agde. The road was pleasant but its no fun when you know you are having to do extra miles just because of some road works. It’s ok in a car, but seeing the French “deviation” sign makes my heart sink.

I finally got to Agde and made my way to the campsites on the coast. Tomorrow is my rest day. I’ll be riding again on Tuesday.

It was my goal to leave Spain today. My route would take me inland slightly but then back out to the coast to cross into France through the backdoor, so to speak.

I’d picked up a map from the tourist information office the day before so I had a visual representation of my route and distance as opposed to my usual guess work or reliance on the GPS. I went through a few more coastal towns before heading inland through the mountains.

You can keep following the coast but I’d figured it looked more direct to go inland and cut the corner off. As soon as I headed inland I’d started to climb a winding mountain road.

On the descent into La Bisbal D’Emporda I was joined by a swiss cyclist out on a Saturday circuit. He rode with me for a bit, asking about my trip, the usual. He was impressed with the speed I was keeping, although I did have the wind behind me and I was going downhill.<\p>

I then followed a dual carriageway all the way to Figueres, what I considered the last big town before reaching Spain. So I drew out some money just in case I didn’t see another bank.

To get out of Figueres was a bit complicated so I relied on the GPS. It usually does a good job, but it didn’t want to take me on the N260, the way I had planned. Instead it took me east to the coast then up into the mountains. The only reason I can think it would do such a thing is because the N260 doesn’t allow bicycles, yet when I finally got to Llanca and joined the N260 there was no indication that cyclists weren’t allowed. By this point it was too late anyway, and I had had some beautiful views of the coast while climbing up into the mountains.

Next stop, France. Spain had one last sting in the tail with some huge mountains. I’d thought that perhaps the Pyrenees my fizzle out at the coast but I was wrong.

Hasta Luego Espana. I’d spent so long there it was sad to leave. Spain has some amazingly friendly people to name just one of its many charms. I’ll be back soon, just not on this trip.

For some reason I’d imagined the land to flatten out over the border crossing, as if to mark the border between Spain and France. Unfortunately the mountains were still ahead of me and I had many more climbs before finally reaching my destination for the day, Argeles Sur Mer.

That evening I’d met an experienced bicycle tourer from Canada. He said he’d been cycling tours since 1986 through most of Europe, Asia and the Americas. He was in Barcelona just for a few days but wasn’t touring, just cycling to and from the city. He didn’t seem very interested in my trip, he wanted to tell me “One time when I was in……”. This went on for some time.

I also met a nice young Australian couple who had bought a cheap ford transit from the UK and had spent three months driving it around Europe. We spent most of the evening chatting and they gave me a seat to sit on. Oh how I miss a seat!

I slept badly after thunderstorms most of the night. I woke to the a few spots of rain. Packed my stuff up and was off. I’d only just left the campsite when It started to rain really heavy. I ended up on a busy three lane carriageway in rush hour in the pouring rain which was a bit nerve wrecking. I’d never felt so vulnerable. Although according to the signs cyclists were allowed on this road.

After a quick cycle up and down La Rambla in the centre of Barcelona I carried on along the cost. It was still raining at this point although it had slowed slightly. The coast road isn’t very pretty. They’ve tried to make it nice but there are railway lines that separate the sea front from the towns.

I then headed to one of the worst towns since Salou, Lloret de Mar, with its fish and chips and pubs called The Red Lion, I sailed on through as quick as I could. I thought Tossa de mar would be the same but it wasn’t a little more pleasant, so I stopped for a Menu Del Dia for 8 Euro 50 Cents.

I then carried on up onto the cliffs to follow the coast road to Saint Feliu d Guixois. Another road perched on the edge of a cliff. It would go steep up, then steep down, then steep up, etc, etc for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, I reached my destination and booked into the expensive one and only campsite.

After a nice relaxing dip in the campsite swimming pool and good old pasta and sauce, I retired to my bed. Not the most comfortable campsite as I was sleeping on gravel. My sleeping mat has developed a tendency to deflate during the night leading to a very uncomfortable wake-up call.

The day started hot and sunny and stayed like that for the rest of the day. Starting back on the N340 I headed in the direction of Barcelona.

The N340 is busy at the best of times but I’d managed to catch the morning rush hour just perfect. After a while you begin to block out the endless noise of traffic going past but it did start to give me a bit of a headache.

I made a big mistake and ate dinner too early. Way too early, I stopped in Salou for a McDonalds. I knew it had one because I’d been there once or twice before. It’s a hideous town full of tourists but it has a pretty decent theme park nearby.

Luckily, but not before tackling Tarragona, I headed off the N340 on to the quitter C31. This would take me a less direct but prettier route along the coast to Barcelona It also took me directly to the campsite I’d had in mind.

At one point the road is perched on the side of the cliff as it swooped in and out of the coves. Would have been much more enjoyable if I’d had a place to ride but I was in with the traffic and the closer to Barcelona the heavier it got.

I arrived at my campsite in Gava, just 12km south of Barcelona, the closest campsite to the city.

I had a nice relaxing time at my dad’s house. He owns a beautiful little house in the middle of olive trees and mountains. It was good to see him and catch up over many glasses of red wine and beer. It also gave me the opportunity to clean some clothes, maintain my bike, and re-tape my handlebars.

He left with me early in the morning to cycle some of the way. There was a slight headwind but nothing too difficult. It didn’t seem to take long before he had left to go home and I was on my own once again.

I had a slight tail wind towards the coast where I finally caught sight of the Mediterranean. From Vinaros I joined the N340. For those who don’t know, the N340 is a hideous road that skirts the entire coast of Spain. It’s a handy road but it has some really heavy traffic and is littered with prostitutes.

I rode over a live snake today. I’ve only seen dead ones. I’m not sure if I killed him but it made me squirm when I felt him go under my wheels.

I bumped into some French cycle tourers who had got a puncture. We had language difficulties so we didn’t chat for long. I just made sure they didn’t need any help and carried on my way.

The N340 road will be my main route up the coast to Barcelona, but for today I managed 95 miles to the small coastal town of L’Almadrava. Tomorrow I’m heading towards Barcelona. I’m not stopping though, I’m a frequent visitor so I’d prefer to carry on and get some miles under my belt.

Today marks the second month since I left the UK. It feels longer but I’ve enjoyed every second and can’t wait to see the rest of Europe. I just hope I can do it all in time.

Happy Birthday my gorgeous Keri. Hope you have an amazing day.

The ride out of Teruel is slow towards the junction of the A23 to Valencia. It seems to be a steady incline all the way but isn’t obvious. This makes riding very frustrating. It didn’t last for long though, as soon as I reached the A23 and joined the service road it flattened out and the wind picked up behind me. I was flying.

I flew all the way down to La Puebla de Valverde where I headed north into the mountains. The route would take my up onto a high ledge and run all the way down from Mora de Rubielos through Rubielos de Mora to Cortes de Arenoso.

Today I was heading to my Dad’s house near Useras and he’d come to join me a Rubielos de Mora to cycle the remaining 70 miles. I don’t usually enjoy riding with anyone but it was nice to have the company of someone I knew.

The views were absolutely stunning being so high up and some of the downhills were exhilarating but hard on the brakes. After all good downhills there is a steep climb, the one up to Zucaina was no exception.

After stopping for a Menu Del Dia in Lucena Del Cid we quickly covered the remaining 20 kilometres, most of which were downhill.

I’m now at my Dad’s place. I’m hoping to stop here until next week before I continue up the east coast towards Barcelona. There seems to be a lot more campsites so I’ll be able to camp next to the coast and hopefully have a few good swims in the Mediterranean.