
May 3 Well, despite all the volcano problems which messed up departures and visits of friends and family to the villa, we had a great holiday. Three weeks of sunshine right up to the morning I was due to leave Moraira and suddenly, in came the cloud and cooler weather. My trip back was going to be shorter in terms of riding as I really couldn't face just retracing my route through France. So, my first leg was to take me to Zaragossa in the middle of Spain. I was up early on the morning of departure to rebuild the bike. Well, actually the screen, bags and racks. The bike had been a handsome boulevard cruiser in its "undressed" state and was quite a feature of nightime Moraira for a few weeks. I set off at 10:30 and after fuelling up, headed for the Autopista and north to Valencia. I reached Sagunto after two hours and then peeled off East on the A23 to head inland. The landscape is very different here and after a few hours of riding, the rocky white ground started to give way to green hills and ochre earth. The Spanish have entered into the spirit of natural energy at a pace that should put the UK to shame. Literally hundreds of wind turbines dotted the gently rolling Rioja hillsides. I decided to take a quick stop at one of the rest areas to pay homage to a field of grapes whse juice would one day fortify an excellent bottle of wine.

Although warm, the sky was gettting darker and as my GPS steered me to the Ibis Hotel in the centre of Zaragosa, the first spits of rain began falling. The Ibis was magnificently worse than average with no restaurant and a small bar so I ended up going to a local Supermercado to buy some food to take to my room. No sooner had I returned, than the heavens opened accompanied by an ear-splitting thunderstorm.

May 4
Next morning I was up early as I'd heard the rain beating on the windows most of the night and wanted to make an early start for Bilbao. However, when I went out, although damp and drizzly, the sky looked reasonably clear so I just stayed with my textile gear. Bad mistake. Five miles down the road, it started lashing down so hard, I couldn't see. For the first time in many years I had to stop under a bridge and get the raingear on. Once again, I cursed the Harley Davidson brand manager for allowing the MoCo's name to be put on such a useless and incompetent piece of clothing.It's happening too much with HD clothing and people will soon start to walk away. The ride was pretty miserable and I was glad to arrive early

May 5
My ferry was due to depart at midday but boarding started at 10:30am so I decided to get over to the port and board early to settle down.




The first part of the crossing that night and early next morning was rough, very rough. Although I'm lucky enough to be a good sailor, it's hard to sleep in a normal bed when you're being thrown around. Now, give me a hammock and I'd have been fine. Eventually at about 6am, I just gave up and went for a walk round the ship. By the time I returned to the cabin, we'd rounded the Channel Islands, arrived into shallower water and everything calmed down.
May 6
After grabbing a couple of hours sleep, I headed off for a light breakfast at about 10;30am. We were due to dock at 3pm and I was starting to clock watch. Really, I just wanted to get home now. Luckily, my iPhone had started picking up UK signals so I was able to catch up on email and texts and call the family to let them know I was going to get in early. It seemed ages fromm sighting land to the time when we actually entered the port


No comments:
Post a Comment