France - Spain Week 2

WEEK TWO

Day 8 - Thursday 28 August - Chateauneuf sur Charente to Libourne - 100 km / 60 mls

My little sleeping pod / glamping was great, and although there was no rain at least I was able to give the tent a rest. I moved away from the River Charente and headed across country sort of southwest so that I could get to the River Dordogne and wine country. There was quite a bit of up and down getting from one river to the other over the countryside, and then through some pretty expensive wine real estate with names such as Pomerol and Lalande. I think that nice wine is grown and made around these parts. Probably outside my budget / price mark of M&S / Waitrose Exceedingly Good Claret. The forecast was that it would thunderstorm overnight, and so I booked an AirBandB, which was perfect for my needs for the night, and rather than going out to eat, I picked up some very nice titbits and cheese from a traiteur and a fromagerie. And a little vin de pays ! I watched a couple more episodes of King and Conqueror, which still fails to impress me, the dialogue especially. You could superimpose the script on to any modern drama and it would work. I’m sure they didn’t speak to each other back in the 11th century like that. And I’m not sure King / Saint Edward the Confessor killed his own mother. Anyhow, it was something to keep me occupied until I fell asleep. Riding yesterday I was aware of some grinding from down below in the bike. More about that.,,,

(Accommodation: Airbnb Libourne)

Day 9 - Friday 29 August - Libourne to La Réole - 55 km - 40 mls

That grinding got worse, and I had a few attempts at readjusting and tightening the bottom bracket, which is a rare strange specimen on my Rohloff bike. It’s an eccentric bottom bracket designed to be readjusted in situ to take account of chain stretch over a period time. My bike doesn’t have a derailleur or a tensioner. Anyhow, at La Réole on the banks of the Garrone I abandoned the idea of going any further, and given that there was a local campsite, that is where I am tonight. The weather has not been great, the passing showers and thunderstorms have continued all day, and perhaps tonight they will still be around. However, I’ll put up with whatever happens, and wait until tomorrow when I think I will have to take the train in to Bordeaux and see if I can get a French bike mechanic to have a look at it and see what, if anything, can be done. I suspect I will just get a Gallic shrug, because this bottom bracket isn’t a mainstream one, so if that is the case I think I might have to think about making my way home and abandoning this trip. I’m sure over the course of a couple of days I could get myself and bike by train to a channel port, Le Harve / Ouistrahem / Calais, and then home. I’ll be sad if that is the case, but I’ll just have to put up with whatever is the best course of action. C’est la vie ! Anyhow, tonight I’m hoping that the stormy weather has passed and that it will be a dry night and that tomorrow early on I can come up with a plan that works one way or another. I’ll let you know what happens !

(Accommodation: Camping Municpal de la Réole)

Day 10 - Saturday 30 August - La Réole to Bordeaux to Mont St Marsan - by train

Well, a bit of a day today. I was up early, wakened at 6 am by a rainstorm, and made headway so that I could get a train to Bordeaux where I would most likely find the kind of bike shop that I needed in order to fix my bottom bracket. Actually, I’d worked out that it might not be as complicated as I had imagined, but still I don’t have those kinds of tools or a new bottom bracket with me. So a bike shop it needed to be. The first place I found near the station was sympathetic, but said it was beyond him today, but pointed me in the direction of a bike coffee place, where cool, hipster cyclists seem to hang out, and where he said the mechanics were used to dealing with tourers like me. And, so it proved. Tim and Quentin were all smiles, no problem, promised to get it done by 4 pm, and seemed to know what they were doing, so I left them to it. I went down the road to a nearby launderette and dried my tent, and gave everything else that I am carrying a good wash and dry, so that I am all now kiss fresh.

Well, sort of. By the time I was finished, the bike was ready, and I was able to work out a plan to get me back on track, which means getting the train I am on, as I write, to Mont de Marsan, where I would have been tonight anyhow if I hadn’t had my little flurry of bike mechanic activity. I’ll stay in an AirBandB tonight. I’ve had enough of getting wet and being damp for the whole day. More wet weather is forecast over the weekend, not cold, in fact very humid and warm, but lots of showers and thunderstorms. So, I’ll stay indoors if I can for the next couple of days.

Bordeaux was interesting, quite a young population, probably students, and pretty ethnic. It looks as though it could do with a bit of gentrification, especially around the backstreets, which have lovely 18th and 19th century - I think - houses built with the local lovely white chalky stone, It does have a hipster feel to it, but most importantly, as is common with the majority of French towns and cities, there are decent food shops, grocery stores, epicerie and traiteur places.

I’m quite impressed with SNCF French trains, two of which I’ve been on today. These are the middle distance ones, not the TGV, but they seem to be on time, are spacious and clean, and always have spaces for bicycles. There is no shortage of onboard staff who wear snazzy uniforms and a hat. Always a hat, which does give some sense of being in charge and sending off a don’t mess with me message. Better than some of the staff you see on Avanti or LNW. And, the trains are bike friendly, very important to me on a day like today !

So, I’m hoping that tomorrow I will be back on track, and able to continue down to Biarritz and be on hand to cross the border in to Spain on Monday. Then over to Pamplona, turn west to Burgos and Leon, and then south via Valladolid, Salamanca, Caceres to Seville, then west to Faro. I might have to pop a train for a day or two in order to keep to time so that I’m in Faro for 10 August for meeting up with David and hopefully Richard. I’ll try and get a rest day somewhere so that I can do a bit of tourist stuff and more laundry and bike maintenance.

Surprise of the day was breakfast. Coffee, pain au raison, pain au chocolate, and very nice too, all for less than 5 euro. Back home, that would cost you almost close to 10 euro / 8 sterling, I think. Mind you, train journeys seem expensive, but then I guess most people have concession travel as I do at home being an OAP. Here, I'm having to pay the full whack, no concession, no railcard. Still, I've been grateful for the trains today.

(Accommodation: Airbnb Mont de Marsan; Bike Shop: Musette Bicyles & Coffee)

Day 11 -Sunday 31 August - Mont de Marsan to Urt - 110 kms / 65 mls

Today was characterised - massively - by thunderstorms and torrential rain, and when not doing that just gently drizzling, so it was a damp and miserable ride, although through some lovely countryside, especially when I joined the River Adour in the afternoon. There are some decent cycle paths at various stages, otherwise quiet roads alongside the very busy dual carriageway that seems to go as straight as a die from Marsan to Bayonne. I passed a place called Dax, with a huge steam cloud, which I can only take to be a power station, probably nuclear, which the French seem to be very keen on. Something like 70% of French electricity is nuclear generated. Or so Google AI tells me.

My destination was Urt, a small town on the River Adour, where there was a campsite. Now, I hear you ask, why was I camping in such atrocious weather ? Good question. Well, probably because I was living in hope that things would improve by the evening - which they did not - in fact, so much so that the two rules of the buggeration of cycling, namely that in the last half hour of a trip there will be either a big hill to climb, or it will rain, proved right, both of them. There was a massive hill up from the river, and it poured mightily in order to ensure I was thoroughly wet through, if I wasn’t already so. And, because there was a dearth of Airbnb and Booking.com places in the region, and I would have had to go another 20 miles or so in to Bayonne to find something. And, because on the camping site’s webpage I had seen that they had glamping pods and thought one of those would do, although I was not able to book on the internet. So, I Iived in hope that there would be something, and so it proved ! I was able to secure a two person glamping pod, with mattress, sheets, duvet and pillows, all covered and dry, for 25 euro. Bargain ! And once I had got myself sorted out, dried out - thanks to the onsite launderette - I was able to sleep warm and dry. Grateful for small mercies.

I guess one reason I slept so well was because I had a bit too much wine ! The next door glamping pod was occupied by Matt, who is walking the Camino route, the very long one through France, but had hurt his ankle, and was resting up for a few days. I thought I detected a Brummie accent, and yes, I was right. He was bought up in Moseley. So, we got chatting, well chatting as well as he could and as well as I could understand, because he was zonked, I think on weed, so it was an interesting conversation ! When I said I was off for a pizza - the only offering around - he decided he would hobble along with me, and I’m afraid I didn’t keep an eye on the wine being ordered. Anyhow, one has to be able to be let off the leash every now again, right ? He hadn’t appeared when I left this morning, I suspect on account of the cocktail of weed, wine and painkillers. It’s one of the joys of this kind of touring, running in to all sorts of odd and strange people, mostly nice. I still keep up with Lucas in Germany almost ten years after we cycled by each other. And John W and Deano from the USA. Not that they are odd. Just nice.

So, I slept very well in my warm, dry, glamming pod.

Day 12 - Monday 1 September - Urt to Andoian - Train & 20 kms / 12 mls

It was still raining this morning, so getting up and about was a bit of a chore. The forecast was for it to thunderstorm and be wet for the most of the day, so after my experiences of yesterday I decided to take the train from Urt to Hendaye on the border, cross over in to Spain, and then take a train either to Burgos or Pamplona, which the various train websites said was possible. But, when I arrived in Irun on the other side of the border there were no trains running because of engineering works which will last a week. I was able to get some independent Basque commuter train to San Sebastián, but same problem there, no forward trains. The staff seemed confused, conflicting advice and stories proffered, but eventually I went on the promise that there was a train from Andoian some 20 kms away, but I wouldn’t make the 2 pm one today. So, I have cycled to Andoian and checked out the station and timetable, but am still not convinced that there is a train tomorrow, although I am sure there is from a station a further 15 kms up the line. The staff seemed unsure. I’ve booked in to a modest pension for the night near the station. So, I will cycle tomorrow to Tolosa and get the train from there to Burgos. Where it will be sunny, dry and warm ! I’ll get ahead of myself by a day or two, but that’s good because I think I miscalculated my trip and just how big France and Spain are !

My dinner tonight in Andoian was Secreto de Jerez, which turned out to be duck, which I was not expecting, but still very nice. And then some local cheese with membrillo. And a little Tinto. This is Basque country, so perhaps I should have had something more local. It’s also very green - lots of rain - and very hilly. Tomorrow my train ride will help me avoid the vertiginous Picos range, which I’m not unhappy about missing. I’ve experience them several times before. Burgos will see me on the Plain, as in The Rain in Spain. The signs here are all in Basque which is replete with Z and K and is indecipherable and unfathomable to me. Sturdy people, look like they won’t be messed with. And, as I say, green and very hilly.

PS - the Serving Person - to be unTrumpian PC - tells me the Secreto de Jerez was in fact pork ! So much for my taste buds and palette !

Day 13 - Tuesday 2 September - Andoain to Burgos (train)

Today, I have mostly been on the train. My plan was to make up a couple of days of my route, because I think I will be hard pushed to get to Faro for next Wednesday, 10 September, so given that on the north side of the Picos and associated mountains and hills the weather is still very wet and unpredictable, and given that the climbs in those mountains are pretty arduous, especially when the bike is carrying load, I thought I’d bypass the weather and the climbs and hop the train to Burgos, where the weather is fine and where there are not so many demanding climbs. Only a few years ago I would have baulked at the idea of doing this, but I guess increasing old age has made me realise that sometimes it makes sense to take an easier option and be kind to oneself ! So, I did. Although, I still wasn’t convinced that my intelligence from the young RENFE people at the Andoain station was correct, given my experiences of yesterday in San Sebastián. They assured me the media distancia train I needed to get to Burgos was starting in Andoain, but I could find no mention of it on the RENFE website or booking system. Those said that it started in Tolosa, some 15 kms away. So, I got up early, and got a commuter train to Tolosa just to make sure that I got the right train. Which I did, and it took me through some valleys through the mountains, and then on to the plain to Burgos. Tonight I’m in a camping site on the outskirts of Burgos, the old heart of which is well hidden by the modern apartment buildings and small factories that shield most Spanish cities and their old centre.

First impressions of Spain are, as I’ve seen and heard many times before, that the Spaniards are like a murmuration of starlings, all crowded together and chattering away at the same time, usually sitting around at one of the multitude of bars and cafes that are everywhere. I think Spaniards live out their lives at a cafe table, eating tapas, and smoking, and chattering away. All very sociable and nice. But, just occasionally I wonder if it is all a bit too much, and that I would eventually hanker for some peace and quiet. Another impression is that jobs that would usually be done at home by people from other countries are done here by young native Spaniards. The kids at the RENFE station, for example, in proliferation; the youngsters working across the counter in bars and cafes. I’m just wondering if here there is a culture of having to get out and do some work, no matter what, to earn your keep and to be occupied, perhaps encouraged by a spartan welfare system which isn’t going to support you if you choose not to work. Whereas, I sense, at home too many youngsters are able to choose not to work, ostensibly because of mental health problems, and no doubt other issues, and the welfare system facilitates that. And so, the jobs that they could and should be doing are done by newcomers to the country. And because they don’t do those kinds of jobs, we have to go elsewhere to find the workers, and so a driver to immigration. Remember, there are between 750.000 and 850.000 youngsters between the ages of 16 and 24 in the UK who are NEETs - not in employment, education or training - in other words doing very little, and getting some sort of welfare money to let them do so. Or am I being unnecessarily harsh on our young people ?! Whichever way, it can’t be good for them, for their futures, for the country’s economy. Just saying ! I’m sure I’ll come up with all sorts of other observations about Spain and the Spaniards as I pedal along.

Tomorrow, Wednesday, I will head off on my bike down to Palencia, and connect with the Ruta de La Plata, which is an ancient Roman route as well as a camino route to Santiago from south to north, which will take me through Valladolid, Salamanca and Caceres. Of course, I’m going in the opposite direction, but I’m sure I’ll catch sight of some of the camino walkers on my way. I’m wondering what happened to the wounded walker Matt from the other night ?! He may, of course, not be able to remember anything about our meeting and conversation. He was truly zonked. I’ll just stick to the red wine.

Tonight I’ve had paella and a tuna salad at the campground restaurant / cafe, and it is buzzing with Spaniards out for a drink, something to eat, and to meet and greet. All very convivial. And noisy. I’ve had to take my hearing aid out so that I can hear myself think.

Day 14 - Wednesday 3 September - Burgos to Torquemada - 90 kms /55 mls

Today the Wind Gods did not favour me. No wonder there are so many wind farms in this part of the country. It made for hard going, also the unpaved routes I was taken on, I think mostly because the main N road has become an Autovia, and they don’t seem to have made provision for people who are not allowed on the Autovia, like me on a bike. Anyhow, it was a longish day, hard work fighting the wind, and some very big hills, on top of which are the wind farms. Other than that, it is sunflowers and wheat - the latter already harvested, the sunflowers drying out and no doubt due for harvest. There were very few towns of any size, just villages and hamlets, deserted, nobody about. I guess they all come out in the evening, as they have tonight in Torquemada where I find myself in an hostal for the night. Torquemada makes me expect the Spanish Inquisition from Monty Python to suddenly appear. Remember them ? Most little towns and villages have a sturdy looking church at the centre, built more like a fortress with few or no windows, no doubt a place of refuge when the barbarians / Moors / Conquistadors / Franco attacked. Not pretty or uplifting, as were all those beautiful Romanesque / Norman churches I saw in France.

Torquemada is north of Palencia, where I had originally planned to land this evening, but I realised that I’d had enough of wind and gravel paths, so I got a simple hostal in Torquemada. I arrived at 6:30 pm, but had to wait until 7:30 pm when they opened up again, having closed at 4:00 pm, presumably for a late afternoon siesta. I think I was given a stern lecture about the rules of booking in by the receptionist when she turned up at 7:30 pm, but my Spanish is not good. They like their rules, the Spanish, all that Conquistador / Inquisition / Catholic Majesties / Franco / Jesuits / Teresa of Avila / John of the Cross nonsense. So, I had to go with the flow, and while I waited I had a beer at a bar down the road, cost of 1.50 euro ! That would be at least 5 euro at home. My breakfast was a humongous tortilla, cheese and tomato baguette and two coffees which cost me 9 euro, but that was on the camino trail and I think they hike their prices for the pilgrim trade.

The first part of the morning was on the Camino route out of Burgos, with lots of pilgrims / walkers on their way, I think to their next major stop at Leon. There was a steady stream of them, from all over - the ones I managed to talk to were from Korea, The Philippines, and Ireland. They are not always easy to engage with, heads down, and ploughing on. I think there’s a sense of solitude as they walk along. I left them by lunchtime as I headed southwest, and I will head in the next few days towards the Ruta de La Plata, which is also a south to north Camino route, but they will be going the other way to me, of course. I think the minority of walkers will be doing the Camino for purely religious / Catholic reasons, although there will be hardcore ones, and usually you can tell them as they are festooned with religious stuff and reciting the Rosary as they go along. And, they are not wearing the trendy trekking Patagonia gear that the less religiously motivated are wearing. Most walkers, I think, are doing it for a whole range of reasons - finding themselves, solitude, centering, challenge, history, tradition, wanting to lose weight, because it’s there….take your pick ! The thought occurs to me that my cycle touring trips would fall in to those same categories. I definitely prefer the bike to walking. And I don’t buy the bones of St James stuff, although I have great respect for those who do walk the Camino for whatever reason and wish them a fulfilling and satisfying Camino. There is a thousand years of tradition and past walkers/pilgrims along this route. Has to be respected.

My dinner tonight is a nice salad, and some ravioli with duck liver / foie and sauce. Very nice, both. I’m finishing my dinner at 9:30 pm, and the locals are only just coming in to eat. The kids are still up, the streets are full of people chattering and nattering, but if you had come through here mid-morning, mid-afternoon, or early evening, the streets will have been deserted. They keep strange hours, these Spaniards.

Tomorrow I plan to pass through Palencia and Valladolid and find a camping site just south of Valladolid. Let’s hope the wind abates, or turns and favours me, and that there are not too many gravel roads. A good bit of the route is along the Canal de Castille, so I expect towpaths of various kinds.