On Britany Ferries from Santander – going home

Sunday 4th September 

I made it onto the ferry and parked on level 3 green stairs – I must remember that. This morning at the campsite I was offered coffee by two separate people. This made me feel more welcome than my arrival yesterday evening into what felt like an impenetrable packed crowd of Spanish all speaking too loud (that says more about me than them). I should not be surprised, but I am, by how much nervousness can influence my sense of the atmosphere in a place. But it was noisy last night on the campsite with dogs barking, thudding disco distant beats and camping neighbours talking. But I had a good strategy. After an ok pizza and beer in their cafe bar I walked on the sand in the beautiful evening and watched some families ride hired horses in circles cleverly instructing well trained horses to make smaller and smaller circles. All in the slowly goldening evening. When I did return I lay down in my tent and listened to some music I had on my phone with H’s earbuds (that I had thoughtfully brought with me). Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits and then my tracks on SoundCloud. I learned or noticed for the first time that Leonard Cohens live recordings were all about emotional and sonic crescendo with vocals (both his and his amazing backing singers) and instruments soaring to some hallelujah. Something to take to my own music though plenty of songs don’t do that big emotional thing. Kraftwerk for example. They just go on and on.

This morning I lingered on the beach then left at about 10.30. 

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was this the morning or the evening before?
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Packing up

By 11.30 I was at the ferry port and whisked through at such speed that the immigration officers had to call me back without a smile as I obliviously rode past the place where I should have showed my passport. Did I say I have decided to get a new flipping front helmet? 

Brittany Ferries Galicia - hull made in China
After passport control at Santander awaiting Brittany Ferries
Fellow travellers
Leaving beautiful Santander
Leaving Santander – a beautiful resort not just a ferry port
the sun deck
On the sun deck

We got on first, about 6 or so riding bikes all in glorious sunshine. And I was showered and changed and up on the for once really sunny sun deck 40 minutes before we left diagonally at first then we gained more speed. Santander and its long beach on a spit was stunning in the sunshine with sailing vessels of all kind across the wide water. Then I slept as the wind seemed to smash into the side of the boat where my outside cabin is. Everything seemed to rattle and vibrate. But still I managed to snatch some brief sleep. 

Brittany ferries apologised for the lack of staff to serve us our hugely expensive meal so we leant against the swaying wall in a long queue for self service. I would have enjoyed my meal and chilled wine a little more if the sea were slightly calmer. But I am back after some fresh air on my bed. 

As usual I woke in the night and instead of lying awake I read some more All Tomorrow’s Parties. Gibson is the perfect author for these trips. 

Endless corridor on Brittany Ferries Galicia
First sight of Blighty from Brittany Ferries Galicia
First sight of Blighty

What worked well on this trip: my helmet lock and disk lock. They were easy to use on supermarket and other brief visits; the bike apart from the odd clutch problem before I even left England. It was easily manoeuvrable on campsites and other spaces, it would have been fine in the ACT if I had more skills and confidence, I think it needs some device to alter the low end fuelling also discovered by some searching . I think I will purchase (though now on a closer look, I am not that sure). The tent worked fine. The Klim gear: It’s ok as it’s inconspicuous but in hot weather it is undeniably hot. It has too many pockets or rather I did not use them well and had too many things in them so I was always searching for things I thought I had lost – like my phone. The Nexx helmet and its own Bluetooth set up. It did the job but putting in the earbuds each time I start off was annoying and they pulled out when caught on something unpredictability as I moved my head to look over my shoulder. The helmet inner is getting tatty and is falling out from so many rewirings of earphones. It needs sorting properly. Needs replacing. New Sony still camera good but I didn’t use to its potential. Drip coffeemaker is fun but it took a while to get the strength right. It flows too quickly. I think it is a design fault. A porcelain or even a plastic version just has holes at the bottom. This is one big sieve. Mosko Moto gear: that’s a topic for a post of it’s own (see Previous post). At the very least I need one more dry bag in the mix. I envied the bikers and the bikes will good old hard panniers. My Xero Z-trail camping shoes: These worked well and were comfortable and took up hardly any space. Much better than the too small canvas shoes I had before. Garmin Inreach.

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Garmin EarthMate

I didn’t really need it (little surprise there). Sharing my location was slightly nice and could have been important. Camping clothes: ok and take up little space – if boring – but who cares? 

Total miles was 1,629. My GPS unfortunately deleted the first half of the tracks. Very odd.

captured by InReach – with the ACT route added

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Where will the next trip take me? And when will I take it?

I’m by the Portugal coast in the cool

Sunday 28th August 

I’m revelling in the benefit of the cool weather by the coast. I’m sitting on a bench by a beach in Avila which is some kilometres north of Porto and south of the river that forms the border between Portugal and Spain. I’m still staying at the answer to every hope that is Casa Do Bosque. This morning I was served a perfectly presented continental breakfast. Not too much of anything but what there was was fresh and freshly made, the freshly squeezed orange juice, the bread and coffee. And of course enough bread and sliced cheese to make into a delicious sandwich that I’ve just eaten here by the sea. Followed by some plums I bought a couple of days ago. The breeze here now is so cool and cooling. And gone is the fight against the heat. Everything is easier from packing my bags to making decisions. I’ve been surprised how my small additions of a helmet lock and a light weight disk lock really do make parking up and walking around so much easier. I walked up and down a familiar Portuguese type sea front promenade then got on the bike to take me five minutes south to a little sandy beach with a great view. In fact I’ve been here sitting in the same spot for an hour.

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I find it hard to tear myself away

Next stop Barcelos which I’ve been told is a town worth visiting and I’ve plotted a supermarket there to stock up for the next couple of days on the road. My decision for tomorrow is whether to try to get to a nice site Camping San Francisco in one day or split into two. Today is Sunday so I have one week left to make the most of. I have sent a message for advice from my Galician next door neighbour in London. 

Later: The food at my hotel I have to say is sublime. Though I preferred my first meal to the second which was fish. 

A major change of plan

Saturday 27th August 

I’m writing after my plan changed rather drastically. I need to remember where to start. From Braganca I intrepidly started the ACT route south. Immediately I took one of the many possible wrong turns and ended up in a farm drive with the inevitable barking dogs and then the farmer. But the dogs were friendly and the farmer helpfully pointed to where I had gone wrong and that I had something dangling from my luggage. So I turned round and headed back the way he indicated. The route was mostly gravel with some stone parts. The easy bits were ok but every now and then would be something steep up or down or a sharp turn.

Near the start of ACT Portugal
First tunnel under the main road

Looking back I wonder what was so intimidating about it but at the first point that it crossed a small road I decided to stick to the road which was more fun as I could keep to wiggly roads by putting a town name up ahead into my gps. The weather was ideal high twenties and sunny though getting hotter. I think I managed about 45 minutes of the ACT but I was in 1st and 2nd gear all the time and had to turn the bike around 3 or 4 times when I realised I had taken the wrong track. The first day would have been 120 miles of that. Somehow it didn’t work.  Also, somewhere along the route it got hot. So my plan was to head for the next hotel I had booked and restart from there. Some days, from the GPX track look as though they stick more to roads and the small roads are pretty entertaining.

My stops during the day may have been low key but they worked well, first at Mogadouro where I ate something sitting on a bench in the shade of a dead end street and planned from my maps and the GPS a twisty scenic route indirectly to Torre de Moncorvo where hotel number two is.

Mogadouro in the shade
eating in a dead end street

So far so good. It was a good plan. The route I took was amazing. Toward the end of the ride it was so hot that on spotting an unusual coincidence of a tree giving shade by the road and somewhere to stop just off the road I swerved over to come to an abrupt halt to drink and pour water over my head. But the riding and the roads were amazing. Until it got hot and the cooling breeze turned into a hot blast. 

In some welcome shade in Portugal
Suffering in the Portuguese heat

Entering the town, Torre de Moncorvo, required a steep and ever steeper ascent of a cobbled street up to a pleasant cobbled square where old men sat around watching the world go by including oddities like me. I get the feeling that Portuguese, at least in this not very visited part of the country, are really uncertain about travellers and always look quizzically. It took quite some walking to find where the hotel was hiding. But it was now hot – mid thirties. The hotel was and still is a historic building very dark with amazing but rather wasted on me antique furniture and lights. The receptionist spoke great English with humorous tone. Nice. 

My room in Casa Da Avo in Torre de Moncorvo

I toured the hot streets on foot looking for a supermarket for ideally a beer from a fridge but in the end settled for orange juice not chilled and crisps both to have with my vodka which I did unwisely before heading out to O Lager restaurant. It was efficient like a large canteen but nicely cooked produce and lovely local white wine that I drank too much of.

Deadly wine in O Lagar Portugal
I only had half a bottle – honestly
Nice but deadly fish at O Lagar
The potatoes were overcooked but the fish was delicious

It was soft and drinkable but 13 percent. I really enjoyed myself though walked unsteadily back to my hotel. But lying down to sleep sent the room into a spin that just would not go away and a couple of hours later the fish I ate were released into the sewerage system. Not a good night (at some points I thought ‘if now is when I die I don’t care’) and when morning came I decided I should stay another night because I did not feel well enough to ride but alas receptionist on duty rather less fluent than her colleague told me there were no vacancies though her colleague yesterday had said there would be. But I am glad I did not stay there, very glad. I found the town and the hotel claustrophobic. That’s when I changed my plan after a clear bit of advice from H. back at home. On the phone I abandoned the continued ride into the hotter south and decided to go west to the coast that according to my app was 10 degrees cooler – ah luxury.

Temperature in Portugal
Don’t take my word for it, look at this

I picked a hotel in a hurry on booking.com. A choice between £43 with crummy reviews and £82 with glowing. I chose the latter, about 10k from the coast and pretty much due west from where I was. I’m so glad I did because here I am in a place that’s such the opposite to the old fashioned places from earlier. It is white modern and airy run by a welcoming French family. (actually I don’t think they were French but I felt like I had died and gone to heaven). Everything is so much better like the Wi-Fi router actually in your room and working an amazing shower room. And cooler, so much. I missed the entrance on a steep bit of road of course but managed to manoeuvre my bike around to make it up a rather hidden drive. I’ve ordered dinner and meat not fish, which is what people ask you, for a change. 

Amazing hotel Casa do Bosque
Amazing hotel Casa do Bosque
Amazing hotel Casa do Bosque
Amazing hotel Casa do Bosque

Internally I battle with anxiety and catastrophic thoughts as I ride. If I am just enjoying the ride I am lucky. It can be anything: often just the practicalities of what I need to do feel overwhelming but they unfailingly work out fine. Earlier in the ride it was whether the clutch cable would go slack again. A blast of heat sends a wave of panic. Today I got in the wrong lane at a motorway toll and didn’t take a ticket but at the exit, many miles later, I decided also to go through the free lane, so as I have told myself a million times, things are nearly always completely fine. These trips always bring this out. At home routine keeps it mostly at bay.