After enjoying the delights of Barcelona for a day and the hospitality of Andrew and Helen and their children I was joined by Andrews brother, Mark, aka “The Broken One” . Mark as some readers may recall joined me last year for 3 days in eastern France as I made my way from London to Rome. Unprepared he basically destroyed himself over the 3 days he was with me. If you were to read a book on how not to prepare yourself for a bike ride of 300 km then Mark would be the author.
This year he had chosen the flattest part of the ENTIRE 6,500 km to join me so respect for at least fronting up for a second serving. This time he comes prepared with a new saddle and wearing two sets of cycle pants.
We left Barcelona early to avoid peak hour and the first 75 km were basically flat , hugging the coastline north to the seaside town of Blanes . Pronounced Blay-ness .
Early morning Barcelona office tower views.
Does anyone else think that looks like an oversized suppository ?
What was once an electric transformation complex now standing idle. Superseded no doubt by one of the nuclear plants I rode past last week near Jalance .
The early morning is a delightful time to ride a bike. Limited wind, soft light and with the ocean ever present over your right shoulder there’s plenty of opportunities to get creative.
It’s St Jordi Day here. St George being the patron saint in this neck of the woods. Tradition has it the women get a rose and the men a book. On every corner and roundabout we came across rose sellers who were doing a solid trade.
After 50 km of flat terrain and seaside boardwalks the coast line towards Blanes became more undulating . And yes. That guy that down there is sunbaking completely naked.
The other views were even better.
We were passing over that bridge to the right when we noticed this hombre bogged . Working on my theory that those that do good will have good returned to them we detoured to see if we could assist . Bogged in sand to his axle he wasn’t going anywhere without a tow and after 15 mins of pushing we left him as we found him. On the phone to the Spanish AA.
Although Blanes had been our night stop destination such was the flatness of the terrain from Barcelona that we decided after a pizza , 2 beers and an ice cream to push on until we felt we had enough.
She would appear to be “occupied”
20 km inland from Blanes with the 2 beer buzz now truly over we called a halt to proceedings at the small town of Hostalric. Deep inside pro Catalunya independence territory there were a lot of yellow ribbons to signal support for “the cause “. None bigger than this puppy.
Tomorrow on to Girona for lunch and then Figueres our destination for the night. A small town tucked just on the Spanish side of the border with France. Let’s see first how TBO ( The Broken One) pulls up tomorrow morning .