Tea & Hobnobs, we are English

Today I rode from Segovia to Avila, reluctantly I took the N110 which is a 'National' road but I was assured that it's not too busy.  It was 70 odd kilometres and options for quieter roads were limited or more accurately, none existent.  It wasn't too bad, there is always a hard shoulder on these roads and most of the drivers give you a very wide berth.  Nevertheless it was a fast road and not ideal.  Anyway I'm in Avila now and failing to find a camp site I'm in a Hotel, the view from which was worth the slog along the N110.

Yesterday I could see the Roman aqueduct in Segovia from my hotel, albeit some distance away, today it's a 30ft concrete wall!

No big climbs today but continual rolling hills with 10 minute climbs 

and 2 minute descents which after 

a few hours take their toll.

This was a small town en-route which for

some reason had a huge church?  As is becoming

routine the roof was occupied by nesting Storks.

This is a Spanish motorway at 2:00 o'clock on a Friday afternoon!

This was just the start of today's offering in the way of lunchtime interest.  I headed for the village square as usual, the Plaza Major.  I found the Fuente to quench my thirst, as I slugged my first bottle a campervan with British plates pulled to a halt.  I ended up having a very pleasant lunch with the occupants, a lovely couple from Yorkshire whose cycling exploits put my little jaunt into perspective.  They once spent 6 years on the road and have toured all over the world.  The vans facilities were used to provide post lunch tea and biscuits, some French equivalent to chocolate Hobnobs, very nice too!

I'd been considering the option of dumping some of my kit, I'd brought too much as expected but for a miser like me I wasn't comfortable doing that.  I also thought about posting a parcel home and probably would have taken that option had I not had the kind offer of having my surplus kit travel home in style in a campervan.

So it was, in the middle of the Plaza Major I had a kit explosion and decided what could go:-

1 pair socks, 1 pair cycling shorts, 1 thermal top, 1 synthetic jacket, 1 spare buff and a fold-up washing bowl which I haven't found a use for yet.  If the weather turns now I may be sorry but at least I'm travelling a bit lighter and I have a bit of spare room in my panniers.

Oh, today I heard my first Cicadas so I must be making some progress south!

Hot in Bilbao:

I'm torn between updating my blog and taking a siesta, after yesterday the latter is a higher priority but I'll do an update first, conscientious soul that I am!

I've realised already that to keep a detailed blog every step of the way will be too time consuming and this trip isn't about spending time on a computer so I'll post random snippets as and when I get the time and the opportunity.  

I won't elaborate too much on yesterdays ride from Laredo to Bilbao, I think I need to 'man-up' and get on with it, suffice to say that it was very hot, hilly and I got lost twice. 

The previous day riding from Somo to Laredo was less hot, less hilly and shorter and I managed to stay on track.  Tomorrow I head into the hills proper and considering the way I struggled on the lesser coastal hills I'm a little concerned to say the least.  

Today, in Bilbao it's been very hot, 35deg C right now.  It will be cooler tomorrow thankfully.  I had the choice of taking a train into the city today or cycling.  The 50 metre hobble to find some breakfast this morning (the hovel has nothing more than a vending machine by way of sustenance) was enough to make the decision for me, walking at all wasn't an option so with some trepidation about cycling in the city I took that option.

After a short but fruitless foray I discovered a largely traffic free road/track which ran the 3 or 4 km to the Guggenheim which was really the only thing I was determined to see, the building that is, I'd given up on the option of walking around the museum which I didn't mind too much, I'll survive without seeing the David Hockney exhibition.

The building is stunning, certainly the most interesting modern building I've seen.  It's titanium and limestone construction catch the light and the scale is impressive.

I rode further into the city enjoying the warmth (no hills to climb) and ventured into the old town where as is obligatory for me, I got hopelesly lost.  I'd have been dissappointd if I hadn't.

The city and it's inhabitants seemed very relaxed, I cycled through crowded pedestrianised streets and nobody seemed to mind.  One thing I don't understand is that I have hardly heard anyone in Bilbao speaking anything other than Castillian, where are all the Basque speakers?  Lots of loyal Athletic Bilbao supporters were wearing their 'Red and White' shirts despite the 0: 3: defeat last night.

Spider scuplture

The Basque National sport: Pelota

The Old Town  'Casco Viejo'

Typical Plaza

Now it's Siesta time - oh, maybe 1 more photo:-

The Hovel

I never did understand football

Come-on you Red & Whites!

I should probably be posting about my day cycling to Bilbao, or even the Hotel I'm staying in for 2 nights (which is 3 nights too long) but I'm sure I'd regret using the choice language necessary to describe either of these traumas.

Instead I'll post about football and specifically the Europa Cup final which was played tonight.  I arrived in Bilbao after a feck of a day (sorry, I promised not to) and very soon realised that a big match was imminent.

Every 3rd citizen of Bilbao was wearing a red/white vertical stripe shirt.  A small number of people were wearing a green shirt with a bit of red and white.  

I googled the match and found it was tonight at 8:45pm,  a fact becoming increasingly obvious by the continuous 'bangs' from fireworks.  The local boy racers with trailing scarves and flags (red & white) were in evidence as I entered Bilbao and at least 50% of the houses were suitably adorned with 'red & white'.

I ventured out in to a balmy Bilbao evening just around kick-off time with the primary goal of replenishing my chronically depleted Glycogen levels but not averse to having a beer and cheering on the lads in Red & White.  The 1st bar I enter is the Bar Arabic. The score, just a few minutes after kick-off is 1: 0: to the Red & Whites.  The clientele were a little too bohemian for football supporters and showed little enthusiasm for the match.

I should mention that the other team 'Athletico Madrid' were playing in the Green shirts I'd seen a few of around town, maybe there were a few brave Madrillenos in town?

The score on the T.V. was shown as ATL 1:  ATH 0: which for a match between Athletico Madrid and Athletic Bilbao wasn't very helpful.

The 1st bar had no food so I had to move on, the second bar had no food but I thought it rude not to have a beer so I did.  Curiously the locals here also showed so little enthusiasm for the match that my confusion about who was who continued.

The 3rd bar had some food, I ate 2 lumps of cardboard masquerading as Chorizo Omlette baguettes.  By this time it was 2: 0: to the Red & Whites so I asked the barmaid who was who?  It seems both teams play in the same vertival red & white stripes but Bilbao were in their Green away strip.  This explained the lack of enthusiasm, more so when the third Madrid goal went in!  

Forgive me for thinking all the fans dressed in Red & White might be supporting the team in Red & White, stupid assumption really!

I'm now back in my hovel, it seems having purchased lots of fire-crackers the locals are going to let them off regardless of the arse kicking their team received.  

I think I'll stick to cycling, or maybe after today, take up darts!