This was a short and picturesque day away from the coastline. First, I had some breakfast in my tiny room – well, it was cheap. Then I rode into town and I did a lap before choosing a coffee shop for a couple of cortados.
Next was the bakery where I got the day’s lunch and proceeded to ride out of town. Then I realised I hadn’t got any water.
The issue with water around here is the taste. It’s bloody awful. It’s like visiting Adelaide. So I went back to a supermarket and bought a bottle. I felt bad about that but it’s the first bottled water I can remember getting in Europe.
Now, I was closer to the hotel where I’d planned the trip from, so I started following Komoot’s directions out of town. As is becoming usual here, it sent me up some one way streets the wrong way. Lucky it was Sunday morning.
There was a small climb to leave the metropolis of Blanes and I was immediately in farmland. There was a nice bike path for a few kms before the track took me into some nice quiet dirt roads. Gotta love this – peace, tranquillity, dare I say serenity was all around. It was shattered by some very big very unhappy dogs who were luckily kept behind some good fences. There were quite a few dogs, and none were pleased to see me.
And then I heard gunshots. Whaaat ! A guy popped his head up from some bushes and stared at me, so I sheepishly waved. The head went down again and I soon realised they were hunters. There must have been a few groups out. There were a few cars around and a dog trailer and the shots continued. While there was no danger to me, it was just not where I wanted to be. The bitumen beckoned, so I climbed the hill up to a newly surfaced service road beside a fairly major road.
This bit was blissful with absolutely no traffic, some nice hills and some forest. In the distance there was snow on the higher peaks but luckily, I wasn’t heading that way.
The service road ended, so I joined the busy one but turned off very soon after and made my way into the village of Vidreres. I felt like some late second breakfast or first lunch. The first cafe was closing and didn’t want to make me a coffee. That’s fine. The second one meant navigating a wall of cigarette smoke to enter. Once inside, I witnessed five minutes of the boss arguing with his staff, so I left and found a place as I was leaving town.
What followed was more blissful riding. It reminded me of Clermont-Ferrand in France – quiet gently undulating roads. I then joined a Via Verde trail for the last 15 kms to Girona. The setting was beautiful – a quiet stream, farmland, a dirt trail and a bench to sit on. I didn’t want it to end, so I sat and finished the rest of my food. I nearly convinced myself to boil the billy and have a coffee. I didn’t, but I did resolve to continue the practice I learnt from my time riding with Clare and Miles.
The last part into Girona was equally relaxing. As I entered the city though, I saw plenty of roadies also finishing their rides. The town was literally full of carbon fibre and Raffa and noisy hubs. I felt out of place in my merino gear with my silky smooth Rohloff hub. Of course my bike and gear would have weighed twenty times theirs at least.
After checking in, I went for a walk around the old town. It’s beautiful, and I decided to have an extra day here. I had some food at a cycling themed cafe and got talking to Ruud, a Dutch bikepacker having a few weeks of cycling in Spain between jobs. He’s doing some amazing kilometres and vertical metres and above all, he’s a great guy. Good luck in your travels Ruud !
I also want to do some things to the bike while I’m here (my seat post has been squeaking since I greased it, and the panniers are rattling so much I just want to throw them away).
The brakes haven’t been good the whole time in Spain, so I’ll look at them too. And I want to ease back into it after not being 100% for a couple of weeks.
“The issue with water around here is the taste. It’s bloody awful. It’s like visiting Adelaide”.
Had a big cackle at that – soooo true – and I’m originally a South Aussie!!