Donostia-San Sebastian

Hello there.

So what have we been up to? It's been a while.

Monday, May 12 (cont'd)

Some of the uphill we encountered on the way up to Sao Joao Da Pesqueira. The vineyards on the Douro River are all grown on steep hills which need to be terraced. The grapes can only be hand-picked as it is too steep and narrow for machinery.

So after getting to Sao João Da Pesqueira, we found a camping ground that wasn't actually marked on our extensive camping ground guidebook we'd bought in Lisbon. So that was great news, as we were expecting to pay a fortune for a hotel or something. This campsite was awesome. It was totally deserted; we were the only campers there. It seemed to be brand new and all the furnishings were not rusty, which was a bonus. And there was nice fresh grass to pitch our tent on.

After setting up camp, we went for a stroll into town. A pretty small place, but definitely very pretty. We went looking for dinner and it was hard to come by. We ended up sitting in a bakery/cafe place which had almost run out of all the food listed on their menu. So we ordered what was left, not knowing what the hell any of it was. My God, if it is possible to be raped by a meal, then that is exactly what happened. Jen's dinner consisted of a hot dog roll with a hot dog inside it, plus a few layers of ham and cheese on top, with corn and mushrooms on top of that, then some of those little chip french fries you get from a packet on top of that, with a good dousing of ketchup, sour cream and mustard. Mmmm. I got a pork steak and chips, with a token piece of lettuce I think. They seem to love their pork steaks in Portugal. We felt kinda ill afterwards.

Jen's stunning meal. It's known as "cachorro". Avoid it at all costs.

Tuesday, May 13
The next morning we were awoken at 4:50am when the sprinklers were turned on; one was right near our tent and when Jen poked her head out the window, she got a full-on face-full of sprinkler water. It goes without saying I was as shitty as hell but after a few minutes I think the caretaker realised and turned them off. I mean, it'd been raining on and off all night anyway.

We spent that morning repairing Jen's back wheel. Somewhere along the line she'd broken a spoke; luckily we'd bought a spare so we replaced it with a bit of difficulty, and with our powers combined plus the Lonely Planet Cycling France guidebook, we managed to true the wheel to better than it was before we started the trip! I was stoked.

After being raped by the meal last night, we thought we'd go back to the same bakery again for an early lunch. This time they had good fresh salad rolls which were tasty and even had some vegetables in them. So we were happy.

I think then we had a very fun descent down all that altitude we climbed on Monday. It was a cold start with a bit of rain, and we had to layer up with loads of clothing to avoid freezing our arses off. We hit the river Douro again, crossed it at a dam, and then had regain all that altitude again on the way to our next town, a place called Vila Flor. I'm not sure how high we climbed, but it seemed like a bloody long way. The weather was threatening all day, and luckily enough when it did rain was when we were hiding out in a small cafe at Carrazeda de Ansiaes.

We reached Vila Flor after about 70km of riding. The campsite was unfortunately 3km from the middle of the small town, and unfortunately up a big hill. Reception was unattended when we got there, so we went in and pitched our tent anyway. Some guy came by a few hours later and checked us in. There was a deer park next door with a few Bambis spread here and there.

We had to ride back into town for dinner, and again had a bit of difficulty finding a place that served carbs. We ended up at this place called Tony's restaurant and had a pushy waitress feed us the biggest plate of chips we'd ever seen. There was a steak somewhere in that as well.

Wednesday, May 14
A big day to a town called Mogodouro. We rode around 80km but it was all quite hilly, with some very long gut-busting climbs, and short steep descents along the way. The day started badly when we headed off in the wrong direction from Vila Flor and took a hilly 6km detour. By the time we got back on the road in the right direction it was 11am.

After riding for a few hours, mostly uphill, we climbed to a place called Alfandega da Fe where we had lunch at a very popular pizza joint. Yum. After Alfandega was a steep descent, and then yet more climbing. There was a section of highway that was virtually empty; we had 3 lanes all to ourselves. It was brand new and there were big bridges built into the mountainside saving us precious altitude as they spanned the sizeable gaps formed by the rivers. Again, the weather wasn't pleasant and we had our rain jackets on and off the whole day.

A three-lane highway and massive bridge, all to ourselves!

We were the only campers at Mogodouro. Just after we set up our tents and had our showers, it absolutely pissed down with rain; it was almost torrential. Town was about 1km away and all we could do was wait in reception and talk to the friendly dude there, waiting for a gap in the weather so we could fill our hungry tummies. Eventually the friendly dude felt sorry for us and gave us a lift into town (to his favourite restaurant in fact) where we shared boiled cod (a traditional Portuguese dish with chickpeas and potatoes on the side) and the biggest steak I'd even seen - like a foot across! It was a tribute to our ravenousness that we actually finished the whole thing. Probably on a normal day we could've shared the cod dish between the two of us!

Thursday, May 15
We were aiming for a place called Miranda do Douro today, about 50km from Mogodouro. However, the dodgy weather we'd had over the last few days had worsened considerably and we really couldn't be arsed riding in misery. It was absolutely shitting it down.

Given that this holiday was meant to be enjoyable, we decided to bus it. The Portuguese bus driver was very friendly and we chucked our bikes inside the empty cargo hull of the bus and jumped onboard. I think there were possibly 2 other people on the bus.

I think the ride took an hour or so, and we got to Miranda do Douro at about 2 or 3pm. Right outside the bus station was an internet cafe which was free! So we did a quick email check and then found a hostel as the campsite was apparently closed in the off-season. For 35 euros we managed to find a double room with bathroom and breakfast in the morning. That was cool.

That afternoon we wandered around Miranda do Douro. It's a beautiful city situated on the border between Portugal and Spain, and sits above a spectacular section of the Douro River. On the other side of the river was Spain, accesible across the dam down in the gorge. There were amazing cliffs rising out of the water, and old cathedrals and castles, all with beautifully manicured gardens, scattering the town. Luckily for us, we found a restaurant that was not just carnivorous, and managed to down some pasta. Jen's penne al funghi was good; my spag bol was an interesting take, floating in half a bowl-full of oil. It was terrifically tasty though and our bodies thanked us for the carbs. Steak and chips is good, but probably not every single night when you're riding for 4-6 hours a day.

Friday, May 16
After a leisurely breakfast at the hotel, we set off for Spain! This involved a quick steep descent into the gorge, crossing the uncontrolled border at the dam, and then riding up the big hill back out of the gorge! But after we got up the hill (which only took about 30-45mins), the road was nice and flat. We were stoked. So today we actually got into a good rhythm and punched out a solid average on the flat greater than 25km/h. I think we rode about 70km and hit the beautiful town of Zamora.

The first thing I noticed about Spain was the fact that the insects were dumber. Or perhaps there were just more of them. I kept getting hit by flies! I had dead fly splatter on my sunglasses, and I kept getting flies stuck in the air vents in my helmet. Perhaps it was just the warmer weather.

Zamora is probably one of the coolest cities I've been to. I wasn't impressed at first when we got in, but after checking into our hotel we found out that there was a special event in town where all these bars were competing for the best tapas, so we went tapa hunting! Each tapa was 1 euro, and they were all good. We tried four different tapas at four different bars. Then we stumbled upon a place that served pasta and did some more carb-loading.

That evening we wandered around the city. Zamora is beautiful at night. There are so many old churches, cathedrals, and old buildings lit up very effectively with orange floodlights. The moon was out and about, dancing among the clouds, and together with the floodlit old buildings made for good photos. Spain has daylight savings I think (well it's an hour ahead of Portugal) and it doesn't get dark till 10:30 or so. Kids are out playing soccer in the streets till 9:30pm or later... it's really quite a nice vibe. I don't think we got back to our hotel till midnight.

Saturday, May 17
We caught a bus today to Bilbao. It was a six hour bus ride with one changeover. Initially, after paying 48 euro for our two tickets, they wouldn't let us on the bus with our bikes, and then the bloody lady at the ticket office refused to give us a refund, despite the fact that she told me the bikes would be ok. But after looking sad and distressed, the bus driver felt sorry for us and let us on at the eleventh hour. The stress was compounded when we got on the bus and I couldn't find my ticket for the changeover... but there was nothing we could do; I must've dropped it in all the frazzle and stress.

Luckily at the changeover I found my ticket sitting on our luggage under the bus. Phew. We got to Bilbao at around 6pm and it was raining. After sorting ourselves out, the friendly lady at the information centre gave us a map and a good orientation of the Basque capital. We rode along a bike-path along the river, and bumped into this thing called the Guggenheim. Jen thought she vaguely remembered hearing something about this Guggenheim thing, in that it may be something important. There was a huge dog out the front of it that was maybe 25m tall and covered in flowers. Cool.

The huge floral dog outside Guggenheim Bilbao

We probably found the noisiest hotel in the old quarter of town, but it was a bed for the night and we were knackered. Dinner was a quick cheap kebab, then we went exploring. Lots of thin little alleyways, cobbled streets, and old buildings... though what we noticed most was the large population of mullets, goths, and angst-ridden teenagers trying to be goths. It was quite an odd contrast.

Sunday, May 18
We decided that since the Guggenheim sounded important, that we'd better spend the morning visiting it. It was well worth it. Firstly, because it was National Museum Day or something, entry was free. This saved us a whopping 25 euros for the two of us. So it turns out there are a number of Guggenheim museums around the world, and they are all world famous modern art galleries. The building itself was an amazing piece of art in itself. Hard to describe, but psychedelic fish scales is a start. The artwork was varied and interesting, not at all like the blue-painted canvas with a splash of yellow paint and a long-winded wanky description next to it that we found at the Tate Modern. In fact, all the descriptions of the paintings were informative and actually quite enlightening to a pair of art ignorami like us. Above all, there was a distinct lack of wankery.

The Guggenheim Bilbao - No wankery here.

The bottom floor was mostly sculptures, which asked the viewer to interact with the artwork; cool slabs of brown-coloured concrete about 4-5m high and 20cm thick in spirals and other designs that you could walk through and make yourself dizzy whilst doing so - very very cool.

Then there was some installation art, and a surrealist art exhibition on the top floor which explored the evolution of surrealist art from its roots to its commercialisation. Whew.

We left Bilbao at around 3pm, quite a bit later than we had intended, and began cycling up the eastern river bank to the coast. Not sure where we were going, we ended up on the very northern coast on some cool bike paths and watched para-gliders cruise around the clifftops. Then we found out we had to backtrack about 5km before we could get properly underway. That combined with the late start meant we only rode about 40km and camped at a place called Gorliz, near the town of Plentzia.

Jen had booked accommodation in Donostia-San Sebastian for the next evening, thinking we'd be a lot further along the coast by this evening. So we were staring down the barrel of a 140km+ ride the next day. Gulp.

Monday, May 19
Gorliz to Donstia-San Sebastian. 140km. 8 hours in the saddle. Rain. BIG hills. An epic day.

Our alarms went off at 5:30am, and we managed to haul ourselves from a lying to a sitting position by 6am. For some reason Jen couldn't sleep last night and only managed about 3 hours. We weren't all that sure whether we'd make it. But we'd try.

We left Gorliz at 7:30am, by far our earliest start. I think the earliest previous start was 9:30, way back in Portugal somewhere. Our first goal was Mungia, an industrial town about 12km from Plentzia. The weather was again threatening, and the traffic more so as we wound our way up the no-shoulder 2-lane highway in morning traffic. A long gradual climb that took us through lots of eucalypt plantation and even a koala farm, followed by a small descent, got us to Mungia. Next stop was Gernika-Lumo, 20km away. More climbing, this time up to a cool place called Errigoiti, and then a very long, fast descent into Gernika. Thankfully this time it was along much quieter roads. Had coffee at Gernika and waited out a brief downpour of rain.

Still drizzling, we again had to start climbing out of the valley. This was a long punishing climb that wasn't helped by the miserable weather. We think it was a solid 8km uphill, with another 8km of rolling road followed by a very fun 6km descent that made up the 22km to Lekeitio.

Coming out of Lekeitio we managed to get ourselves detouring again down the wrong road; unfortunately about 2.5km of roadworks meant we couldn't stop to ask directions. So after a 5km diversion we were back on track again, this time following the coast. This section was very beautiful, with steep ups and downs depending on the lay of the coastline. A nice quiet section of road, which took us to Ondarroa, our lunch stop. I think it was 2pm.

Trying to find lunch at 2pm in Spain is impossible. I think we tried 3 places but all were bars (the only places open) and didn't do lunch. None of the restaurants were open. So we went to the mini supermercado and bought some rolls, cheese, and luncheon meat (hell yeah!), a litre of Nestea lemon flavour, and chowed it all down for lunch. We were on the road again by 3pm for the second half of our epic day.

From Ondarroa, the road climbed inland for a little bit before descending back into the town of Mutriku. More climbing took us out of this little place up a hill and then back down again (are you getting the theme here?) and then follwed the coast to Deba. A major ascent up a busy section of road took us slowly up to Itziar, where the road crossed with the major national highway. After this intersection was a much quieter, and this time a very long, fun descent (maybe 10km?) into Zumaia which was on the coast.

After a quick coke and lolly stop in Zumaia we followed the main road along the coast, aided by a bit of a tailwind (plus quite a bit of rain) and hindered by big trucks and traffic. It was a beautiful section of road though that didn't climb too much and gave us nice views of the Atlantic.

After Zarautz at the 110km mark, the maps indicated 20km to go to Donostia-San Sebastian. The road followed a river upstream and was extremely narrow and busy. It was still raining and the road was very wet, with a non-existant road shoulder; big trucks were passing by but fortunately most gave us a little room. It was pretty miserable riding.

On the outskirts of San Sebastian we found ourselves caught on the large national highway, without a good map of the smaller roads into the city. We ended up taking a little sidetrip to a place called Hernani, about 10km out of San Sebastian. It was about 7pm by that stage and as we stopped to ask directions, it absolutely pelted down with torrential rain. So we waited for quite some time before this very friendly Spanish man advised us that catching the train would be a good idea, as bikes are not a problem. So catch a train we did...

And made it to Donostia-San Sebastian! The hotel Jen booked was extremely friendly and very very plush; definitely the best "pension" style hotel we've stayed in this whole trip, and only 35 euros a night. Stoked. It's called Pension Easo. We'd recommend it to anyone coming here.

Tuesday, May 20
Our goal today was to find a bike shop to give our bikes a bit of love before we take off for the Pyrenees. The day started off badly. It was still raining, for one thing, and the car mechanics next door who were looking after our bikes overnight (the only downside to Pension Easo is that we weren't allowed to keep our bikes in there - fair enough cos it's so nice inside!) charged us f#%k'n 10 euro for it. We were pissed off like you wouldn't believe. No mention of the fact when we left our bikes there yesterday. Dickheads.

I found a bike shop on the internet near the centre of San Sebastian. We got the lady at our hotel to call them and ask if they had time available to service both our bikes; they said they didn't but they'd fit us in anyway which was good. So we rode over there in the rain and dropped them off. Turns out the shop sells motorcycles as well as crappy bikes, so we hope that they don't come back with and engine installed. Actually, maybe we wouldn't mind.

Spent the day wandering around San Sebastian, though the weather was quite crappy until about 3pm when it suddenly fined up a treat. But by that stage the fatigue from yesterday's 140km had hit me and I was curled up in bed using the free WiFi at Pension Easo (where I wrote most of this entry). Jen went for a walk and made the most of the sunshine.

For dinner we ended up having Chinese, as the restaurant that was meant to serve the "best paella in San Sebastian" was closed. We wanted carbs and so got lots of rice. I accidentally ordered a bottle of wine so we polished that off and stumbled back home!

Tomorrow we're on the train again to Hendai which is in France, only about 50mins from here. There was just no way we were going to ride out of San Sebastian. It would've been suicide.

So we hope the next time we write we'll be somewhere in the Pyrenees!

Till then, goodnight.