After a relaxing morning at The Hog (definitely my go to stopover if ever I’m passing this way again) I headed off to Portsmouth. At the port I met some other cyclists , including Don Holland – a bloke on his way from South Yorkshire to Cape Town to raise money for his local hospital. Impressive! Check him out on https://alongridesouth.wordpress.com.
The wait to board seemed interminable, but eventually we got away. The ride across was pleasant enough and I even managed to spot a couple of dolphins and a whale spouting while wandering around the decks. The less said about the magic show: “Disillusioned” – I certainly was – the better.
We were late arriving the next evening in Santander which was a bit worrying as I’d had a call from booking.com while on the boat to inform me that the latest check-in at my first stopover was 6pm. I thought I would be getting off the boat around that time and so guessed I would arrive about 8-9pm. The owner agreed to wait. In the end, I didn’t get through passport control until around 7pm. I finally pitched up at Posada de Ajo at 9:30, after a 25 mile ride that involved getting lost on my way out of Santander, and a steep hill to finish me off, and having missed two calls from the agency on the way. The place seemed deserted. I heard a voice from inside and so went in with a sheepish look on my face to find Felix, the owner, who clearly wasn’t best pleased. For a moment, I thought he was going to send me packing, but then he must have seen my top lip quivering and so took pity on me, and was from that moment the living embodiment of Basque hospitality. There was no supper to be had, but he did show me where the beer was, as he hastily left late for his dinner engagement in the town below. The next day he prepared a fabulous breakfast with several courses of fruit, meat, cheese, and croissants before taking a photograph and waving me a cheery goodbye.
The weather was damp most of the way to Bilbao, which was welcome, as what I have worried about most for this trip is heat and sun. I’ve packed two bottles of sun-block, but so far haven’t had to use a drop. Progress was slow, but steady, as I laboured up several climbs to about 500 ft. I only got off and pushed twice – once when the gradient steepened after a long climb after lunch about 37 miles in, and again during the last stretch to Bilbao, when the route suddenly took me up a street that looked like it had been transplanted from San Francisco. I half expected to see Karl Malden and a young Michael Douglas chasing some crook past me down the hill.
From what I saw last night, Bilbao is a surprisingly beautiful town. I’m not riding today, so will take in some of the sights, before an early night. 70+ miles to San Sebastián tomorrow, and more vertical metres than yesterday, so I want to be away bright and early.
The Trick Cyclist 