Day 112
Hola España!
Well, you can’t come to France on a bike and not ride a col can you? That’s a big hill to you non-cyclists. After our last visit to a boulangerie we headed off up the Col d'lbardin. It is 329 metres of gradual climbing and as it was Saturday we expected a fairly quite day. A few carbon riding roadies past us, but then the cars started. I am convinced more cars past on that climb than had during our entire time in France. What was going on? Shopping and petrol at low prices apparently! Where we expected to find a quiet mountain top, we found a shopper’s paradise. We didn’t shop, but rode up in the fast-moving lift to look in awe at the views and hundreds of shoppers with trolleys full of spirits, beer and food. Goodbye France, enjoy the brandy! We were now in Spain
Hola España!
We then rejoined the EV1 and were soon on a cycle path next to a river. However, we came to a barrier and a closed sign. Well, us cyclists tend to ignore these things, I mean surely, we could push our bikes past? Err, no. A few hundred yards on we found the route barred by a digger, left in such a position that there was no space to push round. However, help was at hand. Cycling just behind us were Raquel, Miguel and their three children. Whilst I caught my shorts on the barrier, they, with Tom had our bikes stripped of their bags and through a small gap. We were on our way! The reason for the barrier was clear, a freshly laid cement path, fortunately pretty firm. As it was uphill Tom and I decided to push our bikes as we thought we might damage the surface. When I got to the top, another barrier, but our saviours had waited and not only that, had constructed a plank to get the bikes pushed over. Raquel handed me a banana to eat, I gave the boys toffees. Then they were gone. Merci, sorry I mean Gracias! We have barely learnt any French and now we had to start again with Spanish. Though to complicate things somewhat, since Bayonne we had been in Basque country with a unique language all of it’s own. Life was getting complicated!
Had I mentioned we are in the Pyrenees? No? Well next was the not so small matter of riding over them. We put our faith in EV1, though the signs were infrequent and faded, and headed off from Irun, up, just over 1,000 metres in 7 miles. Well at least it would be quiet on 4pm on a Saturday evening, right? Wrong, there was clearly some sort of motorbike tour going on. We rode for 2 hours and were passed virtually non stop by well over 500 bikes, maybe more. We got a friendly day toot from one rider, we think Nick Sanders who we had met on Beara! At one point a group of sports cars came tearing downhill, as the road was narrow and winding I held my breath, but they passed us safely. My Garmin stubbornly refused to show me the top of climb, we couldn’t see it due to the thick mist so decided to look for a camp spot as it was 6pm and would be dark by 7.30pm. Fortunately more or less as soon as we decided to stop a great wild camp spot came into view. At the top of a small hill was a monument to Basque prisoners who, if Google translate has it right help construct some paths in 1939-41. We set up camp and ate our tea enjoying the stunning views! Our first wild camp since Ireland and we had missed it!
