Rides bikes, paddles sea kayaks, takes pictures. Life on the road & my home in Cornwall.
The Voyage(s) Home
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Some fine Basque gravel in good company, and the ride home. It turns out there are six ferries between Bilbao and west Cornwall, and as you know, bikes and ferries go together like fish and chips...
Fourteen years old me thought Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home was great fun, desperately silly but great fun nevertheless. The fourteen year old still in me still thinks it’s great fun (and still desperately silly, and all the better for it), and while what follows does not feature klingons or humpback whales, there were dolphins, and the title has been stuck in my head ever since I was trundling along the coast of Cantabria a couple of days ago. It felt ever more appropriate as the ferry journeys en-route to my home in west Cornwall stacked up – six in total.
Despite doing everything ‘wrong’ (drinking beer, not eating dinner ’till 11pm, and not going to bed until after midnight), I somehow had good legs come morning. No idea how… perhaps the beer was magic or something
Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. Last time I wrote I was in Pamplona recovering from bronchitis. I had wanted to ride from Pamplona to Vitoria-Gasteiz (joining the dots so to speak) – it’s a single day ride and scenic, but I was persuaded to hop on the train instead for a couple of reasons: the first being that I was still not very well, and the second being that I’d been signed up, that evening, to join a bunch of riders out of Vitoria for an overnighter into the mountains to the west. Pointing out that I was still feeling pretty rubbish, “It’ll be an easy ride” I was told….. haha… after 195km I was no longer convinced of the truth of that statement, but it was nevertheless a great ride :-)
It is only 135km between the ferry port at Plymouth and my home, but the ride manages to pack in almost 2000m of climbing, despite the elevation never exceeding 140m above sea level.
I arrived back into west Cornwall yesterday afternoon, having trundled off the ferry from Spain the previous afternoon, and as usual the intervening story is best told with a bunch of snaps. The ride is over now and despite being somewhat wet at times, it was great fun, I got to enjoy the company of friends, and I would not have changed any of it. I love Spain, and, as always, even the days when it was cold and pouring with rain, and the mud was terrible, were good days simply because they are days that were not ordinary.
The evening was hot and thundery, and huge storms were building all around as we headed west-southwest towards the mediaeval village of Frías, across the border in Burgos Province. I’d been keeping a beady eye on the severe storm warnings and growing patches of red on the weather rader, all the time hoping that we’d reach shelter before the little gap of clear air in which we were riding closed in…It was a mountainous ride and I was feeling terrible… but somehow made it all the way, with the occasional coughing fit :-)Not having to work, Rubén and I left town earlier than the main group such that I could take things a bit easy. The remaining 11 riders reach Frías after dark, in torrential rain. I enjoyed not being wet for a change :-) Frías is a rather spectacular mediaeval town built on a hill above the Ebro river, with an equally spectacular castle, and 12th century bridge, pictured here. We had time for a brief trundle round before the rain arrived at dusk.Morning, and climbing the steep cobbled streets of Frías. I’d felt utterly exhausted and sore the evening before, and despite doing everything ‘wrong’ (drinking beer, not eating dinner ’till 11pm, and not going to bed until after midnight), I somehow had good legs come morning. No idea how… perhaps the beer was magic or something.Such a great bunch of folk. I was made to feel super-welcome and had a great time. I’m massively grateful to have been able to join in. I know from experience that had I turned up to a ‘chaingang’ here in the UK in baggy shorts, t-shirt and on a fat tyred touring bike with a bag on the front I would have been largely ignored, at best…Frías. The castle is incredible, built, as it is, around a spire of rock.Some fine Basque gravel…The rain returned with a vengeance, of course, shortly after I took this pic…Friends… I’m very much looking forward to some more riding with these guys in the future.The ride ended back in Vitoria, at Amatter coffee shop… the best coffee in town and very much “the cyclists cafe”. Also cake, really very good cake…. :-) Highly recommended that you pay a visit if passing through.Vitoria-Gasteiz – a brilliant place to be a cyclist, whatever your preferred flavour of riding.Back on the road, on my way to Santander, and a cruise along the coast of Cantabria. This is the beach at Sonabia. Looking at satellite imagery the night before I had been half-hopeful of a camp among the dunes here, but it was not to be.. too many people.Instead I needed to head back inland for an hour on tiny backroads to find a patch of forest flat enough on which to hide for the night. It was a lovely warm, and dry (!) night. I slept with both sides of my tent open, feeling deeply content with just the birds (and a few mosquitos) for company. This also happened to be the evening that the electricity grid had gone down across Spain and Portugal; I hadn’t realised it was national at that time. The following morning, during a coffee stop, I read online that the BBC were asking travellers to get in touch with their tales of hardship and suffering during the blackout… I confess I was temped to write in and describe how I’d had to make do with day old bread and the last of my peanut butter for dinner, and breakfast, at my camp, having been unable to buy anything along the way during the day, thanks to all the shops being dark…. ;-)There are a number of nice towns along the coast east of Santander (and west too, but I was east at this point). This is the harbour at Castro Urdiales. Most of the shops were shut but I did find some thawing icecream for sale…Castro Urdiales. Not being recovered from the weekend ride, and still feeling the effects of bronchitis, I needed a snooze on the grass in the shadow of the fortress-like 13th century church on the hill overlooking the harbour.Ferry #1. It runs across the ocean inlet between Laredo and Santoña.Cantabria. The coast is mountainous with some fine views.Ferry #2 runs across the Bahia de Santander between Pedreña and Santander. It’s a scenic trip that saves a long ride around the head of the bay through a load of industrial crap.The prom at Santander. It’s a great place for people watching, and while I wasn’t really feeling it from a picture taking point of view this time, I enjoyed being there again.SantanderFerry #3: The ride to Plymouth. The ship is the MV Pont Aven. I love making this crossing – 20hrs to just switch off and enjoy.186m (611ft) long, and with 10 decks she’s as tall as the apartment buildings surrounding the terminal.Evening. She felt barely half-full, and I enjoyed watching large numbers of common dolphins as dusk settled across the Bay of Biscay.. while most folk seemed to be in one of the bars ;-)Morning sunshine.Passing the Eddystone Lighthouse, 9 miles south of Plymouth. It very much brings the sense of having returned home (apols if viewing on a mobile, I only have a wide angle lens and the lighthouse may be too small to see).Ferry #4: The Torpoint ferry across the border to Cornwall. Bit of an ugly duckling and I couldn’t get a ‘nice’ shot but it felt important to grab a snap…. you know, for the blog…East Cornwall and fine views back towards Rame Head. Cornwall has essentially three colours.. green, blue, ….and grey for all the times when it isn’t sunny… which is frequently…I enjoyed a fine ride west through tiny lanes, back amongst the tall hedgerows that seem to define this part of the world… also the hills… the relentlessly steep hills. It is only 135km between the ferry port at Plymouth and my home, but the ride manages to pack in almost 2000m of climbing, despite the elevation never exceeding 140m above sea level.The only real disappointment… I should really have known better than to stop in at the tourist honeypot of Looe for a pasty… shrinkflation very much in evidence, barely larger than an empanada… I was hungry though having almost run out of Spanish chocolate biscuits, and a pasty seemed a good idea at the time…Ferry #5: The Bodinnick Ferry across the river at Fowey.Peak springtime “grass-up-the-middle” riding.Mevagissey… I went this way to stop in at the ancestral home, enjoy a glass or two of wine in the company of family, before continuing on west the following morning.Ferry #6: The King Harry Ferry across the Fal at Feock. Beautiful at all times of year and a frequent crossing for me. Friendly crew-faces making the ride home extra fun.Dusty trails for once.. back on the mining trails of the west for the final stretch off the ferry.A mate met me at the ferry to join for the ride. This is the steep trail from Portreath up to Tehidy Woods…… where I was very happy to find that I had not missed all the bluebells :-)
As a final thought, please forgive me for mentioning Star Trek on Stars Wars Day… May 4th… you know.. May the Fourth… May the Force…. etc etc
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2 thoughts on “The Voyage(s) Home”
It’s nice to see one’s country through a foreigner’s eyes. As always, great pictures. Pity we didn’t meet, hopefully next time. In the meantime, May 4th be with you…
It’s nice to see one’s country through a foreigner’s eyes. As always, great pictures. Pity we didn’t meet, hopefully next time. In the meantime, May 4th be with you…
Haha, cheers, and next time! I love it in your neck of the woods….