Leicester Spokes - for Cyclists in and around Leicester
Back

 

 

Spokes Spanish Tour - May 2002

You've heard about our arrival in Bilbao (see Summer Newsletter; six bikes loaded on at Stansted; five unloaded at Bilbao). Now hear the rest.

Northern Spain is mainly mountainous - across the whole breadth of the country is a band of high ground that is never less than rugged, and often quite wild. We were headed for the mountains of Picos de Europa which, although reaching just 2,600 metres, look Alpine in scale. First though, we had to get a bike for Steve W.
 
We decided to split into two groups, one making for Haro (wine capital of the Rioja region; we got our priorities straight) by bus - the other to the local bike shop in Bilbao. Leaving the Basque capital by bus was definitely the right thing to do. The roads leading from the city are highly dangerous. Bilbao is set in a bowl created by the surrounding mountains and getting to the high country with as little risk as possible was a must.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Guggenheim Puppy
Outside the Guggenhiem

 

Leaving Cervana

Burgos Cathedral


 
e.
 

Hiring a bike to replace the one lost by the airline was easy once we found an English speaking Shimano salesperson. Steve was kitted out and the second group caught the bus to Santo Domingo before cycling to Burgos where we all planned to meet up (thanks to mobile phones, brilliant on cycle tours).
 
Burgos offers the best city sightseeing in the North. The cathedral is fantastic. (see left) Burgos sits astride the Camino (Pilgrim's Way) which runs from Biarritz to Santiago. The city was briefly the capital of the kingdom of Castile and reckons to be El Cid's birthplace.



 

The following day we cycled a long way to Cervera de Pisuerga. We were lucky with the weather which remained cloudy enough to keep the worst of the heat away, but the group was glad to arrive in the small town set in the south-eastern foothills of the Picos.
 
The ascent of mountain pass and the sweeping descent into Potes was the highlight of the tour. It was a tough climb but the viewpoint at the top was staggeringly beautiful (see photos). After a photo call, a chat with some Welsh tourists and lunch we saw a young cow herder riding his horse bareback. It is held that I infuriated the guy by taking a photo which veered his herd away from their intended destination, but if that was so it didn't stop his female companion  from taking a picture of our group in that graceful panorama.

The descent was the longest any of us had been in a saddle without pedalling. At least 30 minutes was occupied sweeping down the mountain road into the resort of Potes. Readers of this piece are urged to visit this place - we all enjoyed its atmosphere for the planned rest day. The cable car up to Fuente De is a must. It was here, too, that we had a taste of quad biking off-road over the rugged mountain tracks. Throughout this day, and the following day's cycle down to the coast, we saw dramatic ravines, gorges and passes.
 
From Los Picos de Europa we descended to the coast at Comillas. This turned out to be a sporting interlude, the tone being set by the oldish patron of our hostel. He spoke no English but wanted to converse. His chatter consisted of British sports heros. "Henry Cooper", he grinned, making his hand into a fist. Later, when we managed to explain that we came from Leicester his face, heavy with the concentration of trying to understand these crazy cyclists, suddenly cleared. "Gordon Banks!", he cried. He then disappeared into his room and emerged with immense pride clutching

one of those tiny yellow post-its on which he had written the names of the entire 1966 World Cup England football team.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sporting theme continued in the bar that evening when we were caught up in a promotion cliff-hanger. Racing Santander, the local team, would gain a Premiership place if they could only beat Atletico Bilbao. They did - but not without a build up of tension around us which dissipated into celebrations of noisy joy at the final whistle.
 
Following a stay for two nights in Santander the return to Bilbao was arranged by a narrow gauge train known as the "Feve". This is easily the best route back - taking about three hours, compared with the bus's one.
 
Quick word about the food. Paella with saffron rice is available of course but the best local foods are the tapas with cheese, vegetables, cooked meats and seafood. Chorizos, a spicy red sausage and tortilla espanol were favourites with our group. Being close to La Rioja, of course, meant that we were able to get on first name terms with this wonderful wine (plus excellent local brandy, somehow it seems hard to remember the name of our favourite...) Spain does not cater well for vegetarians. Steve W and Dan began to flag after five or six days. A visit to an Italian restaurant was needed to restore their tissues.
 
We all returned in one piece - able to fight another day. Where shall we go next? Watch this space.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peter Simmonds October 2002

Back         

Enjoy the benefits of membership by  joining now.
Page updated on 16 October 2002

This web site is managed by Mark Ingle and Peter Simmonds

 

 

 

 

 

On the Mesita Highland Plain

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Picos Mountain Pass
Arriving at the pass through to the Picos Mountains

 

 

 

 

 

Los Picos de Europa!
Stunning first view of Los Picos de Europa

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We made it to the top of the pass - photo opportunity

 

The six musketeers

 

 

 

 

 

The six Musketeers were: Andy, Dan (mechanical wizard extraordinaire, we really couldn't have managed without him), Pete, Philip (organiser, leader and general Mother Hen), Steve S and Steve W (who was the one who suffered the lost bike).