Here is a musical accompaniment for you while you read this post (I found an electric piano in my hostel in Burgos, Spain):
The weather over the last couple of days has been intense to say the least. The daytime temperature has been around 8°C, but the wind has been relentless. I find myself cycling past arrays of 200ft wind turbines, spinning in my direction of travel, which is never a good sign. The wind speed has been about 15km per hour, coming directly from Lisbon, which is where I'm headed. This makes the temperature feel more like 3°C (ideal for a fridge) and keeps me in my lowest gear, fighting for every meter.
Yesterday, I had a dark moment, when the aforementioned conditions were coupled with icy rain, which made my face go numb and forced me to stop. I set my tent up amongst miscellaneous pieces of trash in a small grouping of trees by the road, simply to take shelter from the wind and warm up. I hate setting up my tent in the rain, because I have yet to find a logical way to do it, without everything getting wet and myself usually getting tangled in the fly sheet (with it draped over my head).
By the time I was done, my breathing had become short and rapid, my fingers and toes had gone numb and a puddle occupied the inside of my tent. I also felt slightly sick, so out of panic, I climbed into my sleeping bag wet, and lay there feeling very down.
It's surprising I've got this far, because my threshold for physical suffering is low, and when I get a taste, my mind breaks into some desperate thinking. I thought: I'm weak and if evolution is based on survival of the fittest, then I'm not meant to survive. I thought back to the three nights I had spent in Bilbao, in an apartment rented by my mum for her visit, and felt like I was looking in through a window at warm memories, from outside where it was cold and dark. I thought: I can't do this anymore, this is too much.
It took about an hour for my body to warm up, and interestingly, my mind immediately flipped back to lighter thoughts. Suddenly I was hungry and thinking of all the food I had brought along: cheese (Gouda), apricots, walnuts, chorizo, mini chocolate croissants, spaghetti... I unpacked my stove and boiled some pasta. When it was done, I poured in tomato soup (half the price of pasta sauce!) and cut slivers of chorizo to put in too. This was fantastic, and I followed it with cheese and apricots, which was almost a cheese board desert—how cultured! With the food inside me, I suddenly felt fine, and all thoughts of evolution and death were forgotten.
Another low point (albeit not as bad) was when I fell off my bike for the first time, on the way to Bilbao from San Sebastián. It was freezing cold and my wheels drifted into the drainage slope beside the road, causing them to slip and me to do a comedy roll off my bike. A very kind driver had just overtaken me, and he must have seen me fall in his mirror, because he pulled over and helped me and my bike up. I wish I could have understood what he said (my Spanish is non-existent), but he seemed happy when I gestured that I would get off the road and rest.
After heaving my bike up a private ramp, I sat down on the concrete under the rain, and realised how much my knee was hurting. Thanks to my low pain threshold, I almost cried thinking it might be fractured, and wished the kind driver was still there. I cursed the rain and the sky for a while, until the pain subsided, and then cycled on a short distance before finding a place to camp. This was almost two weeks ago and my knee still hurts.
That's the negatives out of the way.
On the bright side, I had a freak run of perfect weather in San Sebastián, where I spent five nights. I relaxed, edited some blog posts, did some beach yoga with an instructor I met at my hostel, and met with my friend and ex-housemate from Bristol!
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On a side note, Joana (above) took me hiking with her friends, and during the mountain drive, I was sick out of the car window! This was a first for me. It was a lovely custard pastry that came back up too (maybe for the best) and somehow none went on Joana's car.
On the subject of pastries, it's situations like this that send my brain into overload:
I don't know the kid, but I think he was experiencing a similar sensation.
After San Sebastián, I had some serious pedalling ahead of me, as I was entering the Cantabrian Mountains of northern Spain. The cycle up is always worth it though, for the views:
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After an arduous journey, I arrived in Bilbao and had a lovely time with my mum and her boyfriend, where I was force-fed pintxos (similar to tapas) until they came out of my ears.
My mum also brought me a supply drop of gear: A more rugged and insulating camping mat (Thermarest Z Lite Sol), merino wool socks (so I don't get trench-foot), a rechargeable USB battery and a small, down-filled pillow, which was a last minute (and very welcome) gift. This is what mums are for!
(Tim won't smile for photos)
Here are some more mountain shots, as I left Bilbao and the weather got bleaker:
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At one point, I got into a scary situation. I arrived at a tunnel through the mountainside, which had no hard shoulder, and my rear light was out of batteries so I was reluctant to go through. Next to it was a smaller road (probably the original one), which skirted the edge of the mountain instead of going through it. A dead-end sign had been placed at the entrance, along with bumble-bee painted concrete bollards, which was strange because my GPS showed it as an alternative route. I pedalled on through the bollards and began cycling along what was essentially an abandoned road.
The surface was scattered with rocks, ranging from pebbles to boulders half the size of my bike (fallen from the cliff face), and at one point, I hurried past a section of road that was missing the outside lane! It must have cracked off and fallen down the mountain, but I was too scared to stop and take a photo. I made it to the end, but in hindsight, the tunnel was probably a safer option.
When I finally emerged from the mountains, my route took me out onto a huge, flat plain, and I camped right in the middle. In the night, I got up and stood outside for a moment, under the moon and stars, and the grass looked like an ocean stretching in all directions away from my tent, with the mountains like the shore. This was quite breathtaking. If I had a better camera, I could have taken a night photo, but you will have to make do with the sunrise:
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This was shortly before my battle with the wind began, which brings me up to the present!
Here is an update of my route and plan:
When I get to Lisbon, I'm hoping to store my bike and fly home to Bristol for about ten days, so I can enjoy Christmas with family, before my journey east begins!
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