A short ride, for a beer.

It seemed like a good idea, 3rd week in October, book a ferry in 2 days time and ride to Alicante for a beer.  A friend has a house out there, and over a beer the previous week he mentioned it had been a few years since I had visited it (2011 on our way back from South America as it happens). Well, that was it, the seed was sown.

And which bike to use? It had to be the XJR1300. This bike had been neglected in recent years as I had used the (now stolen) Pegaso 650 by default. In fact the last long trip the XJR had down was to the Tarifa via Faro back in 2008.

As expected, the warm dry October weather we had been enjoying broke on the Wednesday as I headed down to Portsmouth for the over night ferry to St Malo. At one point it was more like riding underwater than on a road as my visor just had sheet of water across it and the M6 had about 3/4" of water running across the carriageways.

 

 

 

Still, I  arrived in plenty of time for the ferry, and even had a Red Arrows flypast.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I knew the crossing was going to be a bit rough when they added an extra strap to the bike on the engine bars.

The ship "thumped" a bit in the night, well quite a lot and that meant I had very little sleep, so ai was still a bit tired as I disembarked into the early morning gloom to start my slog down to Bordeaux.

The sun slowly came up and showed me the tree lined roads with autumnal colours as I blasted down the "N" roads and then the autoroute. I had chosen to take the toll roads in preference my normal option of the usually enjoyable Departmental/National network to make sure I got south to the warmth as quick as possible.

 

At the toll booth, I was initially shocked at the 17 Euro fee (I was sure it was way cheaper when we had rushed back in 2015). Anyway, inserted my travel card (loaded with Euros) and that was rejected. Unfortunately I only had a 10 Euro note, so could not use cash and didn't want to use any of my other cards due to excessive charges for foreign use. Eventually I ended up with a bill sent to my phone, to be paid within 21 days. Pity they got the associated registration number wrong.

It was only later that evening I realised my Nationwide debit card account was free to use abroad.

The next leg involved riding over the Pyrenees, these were in full autumn blaze of colour with many reds, yellows and fading greens as I rode up and over the top. Vehicle traffic was minimal to non-existent. 

 

 

 

 

 

When I came out of the tunnel across the border the last of the clouds had gone and all that was left as bright blue skies to accompany down the roads as the twisted and turned their way towards Zaragoza.

 

 

 

The very loose plan involved coming back through France and crossing back to the UK at Calais. But as I sat in the truck stop hotel that night I realised it may not be an enjoyable ride of 300-400 miles per day so started looking at other options and despite it showing as initially full, a later search allowed me to book the over night ferry from Santander to Plymouth.

(Sun set from motel room window)

Navigating had become fun, through France I had a map and intended buying a Spanish one when I crossed the border. But after 3 petrol station visits, none were to be found. So it was the good old fashioned write the road numbers and town names down each day and follow that. Well, with the new fangled Google maps to plot them with. With pieces of paper as a guide I set off across the plains and hills, which meant the day got colder not warmer as I wound my way up past 1400 metres before the long sweeping drop down to the coast.

When I arrived in Alicante I was informed that the boiler was broken, as it was in the region of 24 degrees I just stepped happily into the cold shower.

 

 

The next couple of days incorporated lounging, drinking, chatting, eating and ice cream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My route back was via Cuenca, a beautiful town on the side of a hill/cliff. 

With it being the end of the holiday season I was getting some bargain hotel prices (bed and breakfast for less than £40) in posh 3 and 4 star establishments.

 

 

The penultimate days riding was over to near Burgos, making sure no motorway style roads were used.

 

This entailed dropping down to valley floors, rising again through hill top villages.

 

 

Past numerous castles and through and up gorges. A stunning area that need a more thorough visit some time in the near future.

 

And then finally over the Picos De Europa and down to Santander. To find the ferry was delayed (by 5 hours). What else to do but hit the beach. (Once checked in we could leave the port area).

On my way out there was only one other bike on the boat, and as I didn't see any other British bikes I had started to think I was the only one daft enough to do a trip like this in late October. However at Santander there was about another 20 people with the same idea. Except I was the only one who used the French option to get there.

 

After just over 2000 miles in a week (if I had returned via Calais it would have been 3000) and a five and a half hour motorway ride I arrived home just before 2300 Friday night. 10 days after leaving home.