World Wildlife Fund
Friday 29 October 2010
Toward the Atlantic Ocean
Note, all pictures are clickable for larger viewing
After extending my stay in Majorca for an extra four days I booked the mid-day ferry back to Barcelona. Arriving at 7:00pm gave limited time to find a camp-site, so I decided to make use of the warmshowers.org cyclist's hospitality website. Anyone can register here and you basically offer a bed for the night, (and a warm shower!) to touring cyclist's. As the host you also choose if you would offer use of your washing machine and a cooked dinner. It's been running now for several years and has thousands of members world-wide, and it continues to expand weekly. Most members tend to be cyclist's themselves as they understand the need, but you don't have to be a one to join, so sign up and be a friendly face for a night to us stray, worn-out travellers! It's a good way to meet people from around the world, all with stories to tell.
My host for the evening was Diego, and his wife Leonor. I was their first guest, the my first host's! They run their own resteraunt so dinner was wonderful. At the dinner table one of their son's, Mauro, girlfriend acted as interpretor, and then later we used Google's translator when at the computer, it was all fun! The following morning, after a red wine and cheese baquet breakfast, Diego kindly rode with me for a few miles to the edge of Barcelona to get me on the right track toward my next coastal city, Taragona. I had only bought a map of Spain that morning so started to plot an 'approximate' route across the country, although the maps scale was tiny I made a reasonable plot, as I headed toward Portugal
My town, Milton Keynes, has a cycle path system similar to the one shown, only without the Mediterranean sea and distant mountains!
Many of the towns I went through had little in the way of camp-sites. When there was one my normal 'procedure' would be pitch the tent, have a shower, cook dinner, bed. When free-camping I would always pitch by river or reservoir, this way I can strip-wash, cook dinner, wash-up and then only pitch the tent at sun-set, thus reducing chances of being seen and causing problems should anyone disapprove.
Meow! Typical 'wild-life' found at most of the camp-sites, this one was being looked after by one of the workers, although it adopted me for the night, sleeping in my sleeping bag!
The camp-site at the village of Martin del Rio had closed for the season but the road that led up to it from the village passed by a crystal-clear stream, and next to an allotment with two trees on a large patch of green grass, and in these parts the 'green' part of this is no so common. Being out of sight and so scenic this was perfect. With the free-camping procedure in place no problems encountered.
For a couple of days I had been through flat boring terrain, heading toward the end of another day the town of Molina de Aragon was the planned pit-stop. I was about 6-7 miles away and noticed from Left to Right big grey clouds rolling in. I was ok for a while but I new the rain would eventually start and the only option to guarantee staying dry was cycle faster to make it to the town for a bus stop or similar. In the town I asked about any possible camp-sites but there didn't seem to be any. I also found all the supermarkets were closed, it was only 4:30pm. I asked at a hotel but they were fully booked, due to a public holiday of some big royal celebration in Madrid. I was hungry and needed food. Spotting a garage shop I bought some drinks, crisps and pre-packed sandwiches. As I started to cycle away from the garage the heavens opened, so quickly doubled back to the fore-court shelter. This was a big storm that had rolled in, claps of thunder, lightening and torrential rain. I crouched down next to the garage, with a slight shiver. Cars pulling in, filling up, glancing pitifully at the 'homeless' cyclist, then pulling off. Thinking to myself “what's the plan Stan?” when just then a Spanish chap came over and asked me something, realising I was English he asked beckoned to his girlfriend, sitting in the nice warm car. She came over and asked where I was going, and what I was doing as far as accommodation. Explaining myself they said there were cyclist's from Alicante and here for some of the mountain trails. They called the hotel there were staying in and found they had room, still raining big time he popped back to the hotel to get the cars bicycle rack, whilst his girl-friend and I unclipped the front and rear panniers from my racks. 5 minutes later he returned. Panniers in the boot, bike on the rack off we went. How good it felt inside the warmth, and dry, of their car.
Cycling away the next day was over-cast and still quite fresh. I had a big breakfast but for some reason didn't feel too good, slight stomach up-set. As the day went on I felt even worse. Everything seemed to be annoying me, the boring, open, plain terrain, the weather, just about anything. Feeling slightly depressed I called it a day after just 40 miles. This was a motorway hostel I stopped at and think the groggy little place depressed my mood even further. I was next to a motorway that led straight into Madrid and contemplated cycling to the airport and flying home!! To make things even more depressing the next day was October 11th, my birthday, what a way to celebrate!!
Some of the road-side scenery was almost like being in England, apart from being on the right-hand side!
These birds like to live a dangerous 'Hi (voltage) life'.
The last night in Spain I free-camped, thinking the 'border' village would not offer much I could see on the map a river, so headed for it, this was a big wide section with an area for visitors, there were several fisherman around so as normal, cooked dinner first and waited for them to disperse before pitching the tent.
Some nice green scenery of the gentle hills in Portugal.
The Atlantic comes into view. It felt so satisfying to see this. An ocean I would be seeing a lot of as I head down Africa. 
Thinking I may find problems with camp-grounds being closed for the season was so satisfying to find Orbitur camp-grounds. These are a national chain and 18 of their 23 sites are open all year. I used there camp-ground list to plot my route down the coast (writing this blog post from the one at Lagos) 
My tent is open to anyone...or anycat!
No cycling allowed across the Tejo river estuary bridge so it's the ferry, this took me to the town of Almada. Here I tracked down the Decathlon store. This is a big French chain that sells, walking, climbing, sailing, fishing and cycling equipment, and also, camping gear, time for that better sleeping bag!
Almada is on the Northern 'shoulder' of land that sticks out from under Lisbon. On the Southern side of this area is Sesimbra, where I took this photo, and also Setubal, where I took another ferry to the Peninsula de Troia, A long (10 miles) , narrow piece of land that has sand either side, and felt just like a desert.
So the European section is coming to a close it's time to brace myself for the main part, Africa...
At Sesimbra I had contacted another warmshowers.org member who lived 90 miles further down the coast in Vila Nova de Milfontes, a very touristy town, but quiet this time of year. The host, Sylvain is also French and works for a company growing turf for African football pitches, which due to the hotter climate (of Africa) is not so easy to grow. In 2008 he cycled from Serbia to France and now plans to run 600km down to Californian coast to San Francisco. I have Sylvain to thank for taking today off and writing the blog, his we weather forecast was correct....it's raining!!
So the European section is coming to a close it's time to brace myself for the main part, Africa...
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I can't believe you only got one puncture, what is your secret?
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