Day 13. Olot to Girona

This day's ride turned out to be more difficult in reality than it did on paper. The reason was the rain of the previous night made the sandy surface fairly soft, requiring more effort for pedalling.

Cool and lush

We awoke to clearing showers although it remained cool and cloudy for most of the day. We had breakfast at the hotel and then set off on the road until we could link up with the via verde. There was an American couple also riding the via verde who had arrived after me at Can Blanc. They set off first but in a "hare and tortise" effort we met them again a few times because of their inferior navigation. We used the footpath alongside a fairly busy road for a while, then turned down a quiet country lane. Almost immediately we were passed by a bunch of roadies out for a morning spin and I had to resist the temptation to sit on... oh well.

Onto the via verde which zigzagged through some small residential areas, almost certainly not the original rail route. Finally after a short sharp climb we were on the rail trail proper and the slow climb of a few kilometers to the saddle between one river valley and the next. This route passed through cuttings mostly, with glimpses of the rich farmland below.

A rolling Ortlieb advertisement

We regrouped at the top of Col de Bas and then it was downhill and flat thereafter. The secenery was lovely, a mix of farms and forest, but there was light drizzle and it was cool riding. We stopped at Sant Feliu de Pallerols for a warming cup of coffee and then continued. The cool weather and the heavy surface were taking a toll on strength and enthusiasm and it was fairly regular short stops thereafter.

The impressive entrance into Angles

At Salt the via verde transformed into various in-town cycle routes and we more or less followed our nose, riding on the road until we were back at the Girona Cycle Centre. It is hard to get lost with the Cathedral standing on the hill above the old city anyway.

We had some reviving beverages and returned the bikes. We bumped into Chloe Hosking again. Julie asked here if she knew where there was a laundromat and she said no, but then volunteered her washing machine in an act of real generosity! Having handed over the bikes it was up the hill to the apartment, this time of course without having to lug the bags up the stairs! We got cleaned up and walked back down the hill for a drink and then dinner.

The eight travellers all dined together: this was the last night where we would all be in the same place at the same time, so we enjoyed dinner at Artusi and said our thanks and farewells. The food was good although the portion size a little unpredictable: some wanted a light dish and got a mountain, others vice versa... it certainly didn't depend on price.

Day 12. Ripoll to Olot

Wow what different riding compared to Los Ojos Negros!

Decrepit, but with a solar panel on the roof

Cow with bell

We breakfasted at the hotel and set out under coolish partly sunny skies. The first part of the ride was from Ripoll to Sant Joan de les Abadesses, about ten kilometers of slightly uphill riding through mostly farmland.

We saw donkeys, cattle and sheep and saw lots of farm workers and other users of the path, mostly on foot. This alpine region looks like parts of northern Italy or even Switzerland.



The surface was quite different to Los Ojos Negros also. For large sections it was sandy and not bound together. So a smooth ride but more rolling resistance than we had experienced down south.

At  Sant Joan de les Abadesses the route moves off the rail trail (which continues on for another ten kilometers). We initially had to do some casting about to find the route down to the centre of town, over the quaint angular footbridge and then along the main street for one hundred metres or so to the turnoff. There we stopped at a bar for coffees and to use los servicios before tacking the next segment.

Footbridge on the route in Olot

A local dianthus on the side of the road

This segment is a quiet secondary road that winds up and up to the pass at Col de Santigosa. As we climbed higher we rode into the cloud so it was quite cool and pleasant for climbing. Even when you couldn't see far the sound of clanking bells on the sheep and cattle told you that farms were just off the edge of the road.

Along the way I stopped to snack on red currants and blackberries. The blackberries were not as good as the ones down south. We saw a couple of other cyclists and only very few cars on this road. None of the climb was steep but it didn't let up so most were glad for a break at the pass.

As experienced by some

As it actually is

Then it was downhill on slightly slippery road still in the cloud. You wouldn't call it rain but we still got wet. At a fork in the road we regrouped and had to remove Christine's chain guard which was preventing the front derailleur from moving onto the big ring. So the demon descender didn't get to set any new speed records :-(

The road kept on dropping and there was a lovely fast section almost into Olot. We managed to make the correct turn and joined the dedicated cycle route though town, although we soon left it to continue down the main street to find some lunch. This ended up surprisingly well! We found a nice looking restaurant, run by an Indian family that served mostly Spanish food. The menu del dia was fabulous, with many lovely choices. For first course I chose the potato blinis which were stuffed with a slice of morcella. Sensational! I think all eight of us were happy with the outcome. There was one token Indian dish on the menu (a chicken curry) but we talked to the waiter who was quite happy to be using English and he said they tone it down a lot for Spanish tastes.

We then rode out through town to Hotel Can Blanc which was down a quiet road with a very agritourismo feel, including a large restaurant, La Deu with nice grounds next door, which we used for dinner. This must be a popular destination for Barcelona residents to go for weekends. We checked in, and after the usual cyclist preoccupations (showers, washing and beer) we spend a relaxing afternoon. There were a couple of light showers in the afternoon and while we were having dinner it rained quite heavily, but luckily it let up for us to get back to the hotel about 200m away.

Day 11. Girona to Ripoll

Another coffee maybe?

 Everything went will in Girona for our departure. The cathedral bells gave us a wakeup call at 6 and then again at 7 :-)

We had breakfast at a restaurant on Plaça de la Independència overlooking the river. Then back to the apartment to pack and check out. I was very happy when the proprietor offered that we could leave our bags in the apartment for the  two nights that we would be away, which significantly reduced our effort! Then down to the bike shop to pick up the bikes and depart for Ripoll.

Everything went well there, and we were soon on our way in a van with the bikes in the back. Fitting our pedals, my seat, getting the heights right and so on was quickly done. This was despite a steady stream of customers of many were Australian! Dave told me that they had 100% of their rental bikes committed so things were busy.

The narrow streets of the old city were a bit of a challenge in the large van but we made it eventually and were out on divided roads for most of the way. The country became more lush and mountainous the further we went. I was sitting in the front with the talkative driver who spoke no English so my Spanish comprehension got a workout for an hour or so!

We discussed the scenery, other drivers, the volcanoes that we drove past, the various routes available and much more. As we came through the edge of Olot he told me where our hotel was.

Plaça de Sant Eudald

In Ripoll we quickly found Hotel La Trobada and settled in. Once again they were well prepared for us and our bikes. The hotel is only about 200m from the via verde so they probably get lots of cyclists.

We strolled across town looking for some lunch (barely adequate) in Plaza del Ayuntamento and then took in the sights of the town including the picturesque buildings in Plaça de Sant Eudald and elsewhere.

Cloister at Santa Maria

Christine went back to the hotel and Keith, Julie and I visited the monastery of Santa Maria's church and cloister. Ripoll had been the location of an important scriptorium in the 12th century.

Later Jeff and Gerda, Peter and Sandy arrived having taken slow trains from Valencia. We all went out to dinner at La Piazzetta which as the name would indicate serves pizza (along with other dishes). The pizza flavours were unusual and interesting and the wine was good!

Day 10. Valencia to Girona

We had a fairly relaxed schedule, with the train not due to depart until 1pm. So we had a relaxed breakfast with the others, strolled around and then checked out and took the short walk to the station.

The train to Girona was uneventful. These medium-fast trains (around 200kph) are not pressure sealed and they generate quite a bow wave in tunnels so that our ears were popping at each one. The service was good, and Keith and I headed off to the cafeteria car to get lunch for us all.

The train made only a few stops and Keith and Julie got to see this section of the Med coast for the first time. From Barcelona onwards the landscape got more hilly and a lot greener. A stark contrast to what we had been riding through inland of Valencia.

The other obvious difference is in terms of population density. No wide open vistas here... lots of towns and villages with small agricultural lots and plenty of industry.

This complex set of supports is required because one building has been
demolished and supports are needed to hold up the neighbouring ones.

When we got to Girona it was straightforward: into a big enough taxi and up the hill to Hotel Historic to sign in and be shown the way to our apartments (about 50m away) at Casa Cundaro. The old town of Girona is definitely hilly, so I am glad that we didn't even contemplate walking from the station! At the apartment there were a couple of flights of stairs but after a few trips we had all the luggage up and unpacked.

The apartment was quite comfortable. That is until the cathedral bells started almost overhead at 6am :-) Actually I didn't mind. It is a pleasant sound and I am already awake at that time.

A beer in La Rambla, which is lined with bars and restaurants

A classic Girona view in the evening

After dealing with arrival and unpacking we headed down the hill to explore. Lots of typical narrow, twisty streets, but here many of them have stairs. It reminds me somewhat of Cortona. The town is very photogenic, especially the buildings and bridges along the Onyar river, with the cathedral towering overhead. Everywhere we went there were lots of sightseers, camera at the ready but it was nver crowded unlike Barcelona!

 I made a quick visit to Girona Cycle Centre to confirm arrangements for the next day. There we met Dave and Saskia and bumped into Chloe Hosking, ex Canberra cyclist. All seemed in readiness so we agreed to return in the morning for fitting etc.

Plaça de la Independència

We had dinner of tapas at one of the many restaurants that surround Plaça de la Independència on the other side of the river. It was a comfortably warm night, quite suitable for eating outdoors and listening to the buskers - of varying quality who went from one group of tables to the next.

Then the stroll back over the bridge and back up the hill to the apartment to finish the day.

Lots of people out in the street, enjoying a drink
or just socialising.

The entrance to our apartment

Day 9. Segorbe to Valencia

As we had previously planned, Christine and Julie set off to the station to catch the train down to Valencia with the dead bike. However bike problems were not yet over... the rear tyre on my bike was a little flat. This was with a new tube, having carefully checked the tyre for shap objects etc. the previous eveing. Not too bad, but down a little. So I rolled down the hill to the service station to fill it. Bad news. It was now going flat instantly. We had no spare tubes, so I sent Keith on his way and started the walk down town to the bike shops. More bad news, one not opening and the other not open :-( So I rolled around to the train station to discover that it was a LONG wait for the next train. Pretty pissed off I called a taxi and took it all the way to Valencia Nord. This was amusing as the drive spoke no English, so we conversed via my bad Spanish. Turns out that she is a supporter of Los Che so we talked football.

Meanwhile Keith successfully found the route to the Les Valls railway station (past the end of the via verde) and caught the train in from there. The rest followed along on more or less the same route :-) Actually as I walked to the bike shops I passed a signpost with the shortest and best route back onto the via verde but by then it was too late to be of assistance to the others who chose various longer ways to get out of town.

Julie and Christine had waited for me at Valencia Nord, so the three of us rolled our laden bikes around to Orange Bikes. I explained to the guy there that I wasn't happy with the bikes and tried to explain why. No, he wasn't going to listen. No, he wasn't going to say "how unfortunate, I'm sorry it didn't turn out well". It was all about how it was our fault and I didn't know what I was talking about. It was all about charging us full retail for the broken parts. It was all about "as soon as you leave the shop with the bike it is your problem". So it is now my mission to explain to others via the internet how shoddy the service was. This poor service was brought into stark contrast by the excellent service that we were to get two days later in Girona.

From the bike shop, still pissed off, to the hotel, the Sorolla Centro. This hotel is in a great location, a short block from the station and in an area surrounded by restaurants and cafes. We checked in, showered and washed, and then the three of us went downstairs to a restaurant for lunch and to wait for Keith. He had also been around to the bike shop and was no happier than I was! Anyway enough of that, on with enjoying Valencia...

Valencia

The ride in by taxi had shown me some more of the lovely vistas of large buildings that are a hallmark of the city. That and the Turia Gardens make Valencia a very attractive city. Although Valencia is a very busy port, perhaps the biggest container port on the Med, the old city is a fair way from the coast and the industrial elements don't intrude. However they do provide the economic activity that is needed for a large city. So in the afternoon we did some more walking and sightseeing and looked forward to our dinner booking at Restaurante Riff.

This was the second Michelin starred restaurant that we were to visit in Valencia and I had high hopes. It was only a short walk to the restaurant and after a bit of effort (it isn't well signposted and doesn't look like a restaurant) we found it. It is a bit strange in that you ring a door bell and wait for a staff member to come and escort you down a corridor to the restaurant. My high hopes were somewhat met. The good? The chef is very friendly and spends a lot of time talking to customers. The decor is subdued and tasteful. The menu is short but with good coverage of meats, fish and vegetables. The staff are well trained. Last but not least the food is adventurous and very tasty. The bad? I'm sorry but it wasn't relaxing at all. We had chosen to have wines matched by the chef for each course. This meant a complete change of cutlery, plates and glassware for each small course so it seemed that there was always someone buzzing around the table. As a culinary adventure it was great, but as a meal it wasn't so good. Waiting on some food photos from Keith :-)

Day 8. Mora de Rubielos to Segorbe

The group with Carlos

Julie and Christine volunteered to escort Keith's damaged bike on the train so they loitered on at La Casa until after lunch. The rest of us set out mid morning with Keith on Julie's bike. Today's ride was pleasantly downhill for the most part. One intriguing section of the route took as winding through a large wind power generation facility. The loud noise and deep humming from the turbines was almost deafening. Also there was the terrible stench of the hundreds of dead birds scattered around. Can you spell irony? On our train trip from Barcelona to Valencia and our later return we passed one of Spain's eight nuclear power plants at Vandellòs on the Med. I know which one I would prefer to live next to. Spain is one of the largest producers of wind-powered electricity and every where you go you will see turbines on the ridgelines.

Albentosa.
If you cross the viaduct and go through the tunnel,
you'll come to a very nice patch of blackberries.

Tunnel coming into Caudiel.

The route today included several charming small towns including Albentosa, Barracas, Caudiel where I stopped for a quick lunch and there was some sort of local festival going on and Jerica where for a few kilometers the route left the old railway line and diverted through the streets of the town. There were many nice looking bars and restaurants. I stopped at one for a quick beer (it was pretty hot by then).

Actually I was doing a fair bit of stopping as my rear tyre had developed a slow leak and I was waiting for Keith to catch up with the special security tool that was needed to remove the wheel. He never did, so I had to make a stop every couple of kilometers to put more air in the tyre. Very tedious.

The last part of the route into Segorbe used a section of dirt road into Altura and then I "followed my nose" to Segorbe. Hotel Maria de Luna wasn't hard to find and was a nicely appointed city hotel. All the riders turned up, and Christine and Julie arrived on the train. We tried in vain to get Keith's bike fixed. The two bike shops did not have a mechanic working on the day, so Julie and Christine kindly volunteered to take the train again the next day to Valencia. In fact all of us decided to ride and then take the train from down near the coast.

Keith and  I repaired the flat tube only to have the valve stem break off. We fixed another punctured tube and it appeared to be holding air OK.

For dinner Christine and I went to the restaurant associated with the hotel, which was actually about a block away at another hotel property. We we pleasantly surprised: decor, table settings and service all at a high quality and food to match. The winelist was many times longer than the menu and we settled on a Ribiera del Duero which went down well.

After Teruel: Troubles with rented bikes - lucky to be alive and unhurt

International travel with your own bicycles can be expensive (airlines especially) and damage (airlines, hotels) to them happens. And in some places, getting from A to B with bikes is difficult (can't take them on high speed trains).
So we rented local bikes from Valencia and then Girona.
The bikes from Valencia were old style city hybrids, with racks and 21 speed. I thought 21 speed stopped being manufactured in 1990s - I was wrong. Probably appropriate use for these is riding around the flat city at 10 to 20kph with some groceries.
However, we put a few days of clothing and things into panniers, loaded panniers on the bikes, and we took them out in the country on roads, gravel and dirt tracks.

We had hot dry days with long times between towns to get more water. I rode at a varied pace: ride with Julie and others, stop for photos while they rode on, then zoom to catch up.

That was what I was doing when I had the Incident - I didn't die, I wasn't even hurt, I was shook up!
I'd stopped for these photos:

...and then set off to catchup to Julie.
The good tailwind was still blowing, not hot like it been on previous days. I didn't have bike computer with me, but I guess I was pushing the heavy hybrid along at 30kph on flat. I came around bend in path and could see it was straight for over a kilometer, dipped down and back up, but no other riders in sight.
So I went up to top gear and spun hard - 40+ kph? After a few hundred metres, It happened: loud noises from behind and below, pedals felt wrong - I think "back wheel tragedy" and slam brakes on. You have got to loose the wheel momentum before it throws you sideways into a tree or headfirst onto the ground. That's what kills you. Later I looked back and saw a dead straight furrow in the gravel on top of the bitumen - great braking!

My fear was that the wheel might have collapsed but I was lucky enough to have avoided that. What I saw was that part of the rear derailleur was broken off and trying to go around with the chain. Here is the broken part:





I'd stopped the bike before it damaged the spokes, but I now had a bike without gears,  a flat tyre (how did that happen?), and no human beings around. I was in shock, I couldn't even get the bike pump to work.

I texted Julie and Patrick, pondered just leaving the bike and walking in the next 10 or 20 km.
After several minutes, Julie phoned back, and soon Sandy and Peter were coming back to help out.
Peter had a multi-purpose bicycle tool with a chain breaker, so we decided to break the chain, remove the derailleur, make a short chain so that the bicycle would have a single gear and be "ride-able" after a fashion. We did this, and it took ages to get it done. Peter was fantastic - couldn't have managed on my own. Eventually we had the back tyre pumped up and the wheel back in. In hindsight, we should have pulled the back out out further to keep the chain tight - but we were just glad to get the bike back together. It was hot & dry, and we were keen to get on to our accommodation for the night.

We set off and it didn't take long to find out that the chain would move around the rear cogs when I applied effort. Should have stopped and pulled the wheel back out to stretch the chain - but I just wanted to get going. Took ages to get to accommodation - Peter and Sandy just sat back and rode at my awful tortuous pace - thanks guys!