2018 Tour - Spain & Portugal

[Rynglieder]

Once again, this year's trip has been done on the GTR1400 and the report has been posted up on that bike's forum but I will post up again on here in case it is of interest to anyone thinking of their own future trips:

I'm just settling back in after this year's foray into Europe, this time having done a half lap of Spain and Portugal.

The GTR did us proud again, never missed a beat. Not so many insects were harmed on this tour, it was just too damned hot for them to be flying!

A trip report as per the previous two will follow in instalments over the coming weeks after I have found time to pick out a few of about 800 photos and shuffled my memories back together. It may be past the end of the biking season before it's finished but looking at a bit of sunshine over the winter may cheer you up and keeps a bit of traffic on the forum during the quiet time.

Here's a first picture as a taster; our bike next to some 1st Century BC hilltop ruins....

[9091] Castro de Santa Trega

[Rynglieder]

The plan

Having done north last year (Norway) and East the year before (Croatia) I decided it was time to be rude enough to impose myself on our southern European neighbours. Knowing that Spain and Portugal were likely to be uncomfortably warm in high summer this trip was planned for late September in the (ultimately misguided) belief that it may be more suitable for wandering round in bike gear.

I stuck to my usual format of moving around at around 200 miles a day with a four day break in the middle to relax things a bit and as usual made sure I had an apartment with a washing machine available so that we felt somewhere near human for the return journey. (I have been told that there are four different ways you can wear a set of underpants, but I have never felt like rising to the challenge).

As it goes of course there were some days that were going to need more than 200 miles to reach a hotel that seemed good value and on other days slightly fewer. I still wanted to leave time to stop off at places at various times during the day as have never seen the point of a straight drag from A to B without taking in the world I am passing through.

Everything was fleshed out last winter, a return sailing from Portsmouth to Santander was booked first, then the apartment and then everything else was built around it. At least this time (unlike Norway) I managed to get decent looking rooms booked for less than my target £75.00 per night this time.

The expectation was for around 2,200 miles plus a few flexible excursions and allowing another 10% for being stitched up by my hateful little Garmin Zumo.

A week prior to leaving the GTR top case was fitted with a small carrier to give a little more capacity and was treated to a new front tyre.

[Rynglieder]

Day 1 Stourbridge > Portsmouth (161 miles)

Our ferry was not due to sail until Friday evening so there was plenty of time in the morning to locate an Emergency Barber and sort out a few Euros in cash. I know you can do pretty much anything on plastic these days, but I like to have enough on me at all times for at least a tank of fuel or a budget hotel room, just in case.

This was our third sailing on Britany Ferries' Cap Finestere so we pretty much knew what to expect. The decent down the steep ramp to level 1 in the belly of the beast is not something I much look forward to. On previous occasions it has been a bit of a free-for-all but now each bike is held at the head of the ramp until the preceding one is safely down. We didn't have to secure our own bikes this year either, they are now pretty insistent that it is done by the crew.

The good thing about being loaded down there is that you are already up on the passenger decks whilst the cars are still driving on, so you can get into your cabin and changed or straight to the bar as is your preference.

They try hard to entertain and cater for passengers (and separate them from their cash) during the journey. The 24 hour crossing is just about tolerable, but I am always itching to get on with my ride even before land is in sight.

Day 2 Santander > Cobraces (25 miles)

A very smooth crossing got us into Santander early on Saturday evening but being first on the ferry means we were last off, so there was a fair bit of hanging round before we broke free of the port. In the knowledge that this would be the case I had booked our first hotel just 25 miles away along the coast in Cobreces. We were shown a decent sized room with its own balcony, access from the courtyard and a (just) sea view.

Although the skies were a little dull it seemed very warm and we were happy enough to get out of the bike gear even after this short run. The first day was finished with a walk down to the Playa De Luna and a beer in one of the beachside cafes.

1.1   Leaving Portsmouth
2.1 Hotel El Refugio, Cobraces
2.2 Playa de Luna, Cobraces

[Rynglieder]

Day 3 Cobraces > Barreiros (190 miles)

It was a slightly dull but nevertheless hot morning that we woke up to and we set off for a fairly straightforward run westwards along Spain's north coast.

A number of intermediate stops had been plotted into the Zumo, the first was a coastal viewpoint but it failed right away, directing me to go straight on at a point where there was quite obviously a railway line across my path with no crossing. (I checked on Street View when I got home just to check I had not imagined it):
https://www.google.co.uk/maps/@43.4462579,-4.9921111,3a,75y,90t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1si2B-gTRBgtVHxQJEGhRMCQ!2e0!7i13312!8i6656 I know from previous experience that I would have spent the next half hour fighting my Nav unit and that the paper maps I was carrying were not sufficiently detailed for such small roads, so the first stop was skipped and we pushed on.

Next up was another coastal viewpoint "Mirador de la Providencia") on which sat a modern staircase-sculpture affair offering views over Gijon where we took a bit of time off the bike and a few photos.

It was just a short run then down into Gijon city centre where we smuggled the GTR into a line of parked scooters (it probably looked like a Burgman in calf), found a bit of lunch and then took a walk around a headland fort, Bateria de Santa  Catalina.

There were still some miles to cover though so we saddled back up and road along the A8 motorway in increasing heat until we reached the Playa de Las Catedrals, a beach known for its rock formations eroded by the sea to give arches that resemble cathedral buttresses. Arriving there I found that my planning was not as detailed as it should have been as it became apparent that access to the beach was by pre-booking only. We were left to content ourselves with what we could see from the clifftop walkways and a cold drink from one of the cafes.

From there another handful of miles to our next hotel in Barreiros. The manager was good enough to lift the chain to his rear yard so that we could park the bike a bit more securely than on the front of the hotel and we were again given a fairly spacious room with a (just) sea view.

The day ended exactly as the previous one with an hour walking on the beach in the last of the sunlight before having an evening drink in one of the local bars.

Apart from the few excursions off the direct route it had been a day mostly spent on the A8 motorway, but not bad riding for all that.

3.1 Mirador de la Providencia
3.2 Mirador de la Providencia
3.3 Bateria de Santa  Catalina.
3.4 Playa de Las Catedrals
3.5 Pria de Coto. Barreiros

[Kiwifruit]

Thanks for posting Pete. Always enjoy reading trip reports. Not going to read it on my phone but will look forward to reading it when l get home in a couple of days.
As you say, it may be helpful to others planning trips.
Our trip away has not been on a bike but we have learned so much.

[Sweaty]

Great pics & thanks for sharing. I will read the report when I'm home as well.
Looks like a great trip 👍

[Mister Fishfinger]

You had me at "Burgman in calf" 

[Rynglieder]

Day 4 Barreiros > Viana do Castello (240 miles)

After checking out in Barreiros, we re-joined the A8 motorway knowing that we had a fairly long run in front of us. There were no specific intermediate stops planned for the days run until Santiago de Compostela which was over 113 miles down the road. Most of the morning's biking was therefore a motorway cruise, but not too bad for that. This section of the A8 (like that we had travelled the previous day) was toll free for about half of the distance and now had the added attraction of some curves and elevation changes as we crested Spain's northern mountains. It was therefore just a couple of coffee stops and a refuel that broke the journey.

We let the Zumo take us into the centre of Santiago de Composella.  This, like most other Spanish cities sees heavy use of scooters so we again found that there were plenty of opportunities to park up the bike. My guide book had suggested the cathedral to be worth a look so this is what we headed for and after taking the obligatory tourist snaps made our way into a KFC for a late lunch.

Another 90 miles of "direct" motorway riding brought us almost to the border with Portugal, but there was one final attraction in North Western Spain that I wanted to break away to see before we crossed. We left the motorway and followed the northern bank of the Minho River which forms the border toward the coast and ascended the curves and hairpins that reached the top of the headland. As we climbed we found ourselves weaving in and out of a coastal fog and I began to wonder if the views I had promised myself I would see were actually going to be visible.

It was worth the detour though; from the summit we saw ever shifting cloud banks in the valley below revealing and then hiding the Minho below, sometimes rolling over our hilltop and dropping the temperature before easing away and bringing us back into hot sunshine. Several photos were taken as the view was constantly changing and although we lingered for a while with a coffee I would have been content to stay longer if time had permitted. We knew the sea was also down there somewhere – the map said so and we could hear it – but we never saw it as the clouds were a permanent fixture below us on the coastal side.

As we wound our way back down the hill we noticed something that we had missed on the way up due to the cloak of hill fog, a series of tightly packed foundations of ancient round houses including a couple of reconstructed houses (see photo in opening post). We executed a bit of a U-turn and spent a while longer on the hill.

We then returned to the A8 for the crossing into Portugal and it was only a little further then until we reached our overnight destination of Viana do Castello. Before going into town and finding our hotel we weaved our way up another hill which overlooked the town. The hilltop is the site of Santuário de Santa Luzia, an impressive chapel and again gave good view over the surrounding area.

Time had inexplicably run away from us and when we arrived in the town below we were further delayed by gridlock. The Portuguese and Spanish (much like the Italians) have a very competitive attitude to driving and seem happy to force their way into an already blocked junction just to ensure that no one can go if they can't. It must have took half an hour to do the last mile through the centre in ever increasing heat, perhaps making one car length's worth of progress each time the lights changed. Annoyingly having missed the hotel entrance and got caught in the one way system we had to do it all over again.

The hotel did at least have covered parking and we felt fairly content with the bike's home for the night. When checking in, the manager presented us with a city centre map. "I like people to stay longer and get to know our city" he said, "But as you are staying just one night, can I suggest that you look at the old town?" He circled an area between the hotel and river and then took his pen and circled another area to the north of the hotel "But don't go here, it is really dangerous" Then getting the reaction he wanted from Carole's face added, "Only joking....."

We got changed out of the riding gear and settled into a T-shirt and jeans for our evening walk. We took in the old town as the manager had suggested and then continued down the riverbank to yet another coastal fort, Castelo Santiago da Barra near the river mouth. "Forts everywhere," I commented to the wife, "These Portuguese and Spanish always seem to be up for fighting..." I got to find out why later in our travels.

A walk back through tight streets full of old houses with patterned ceramic tiled frontages bought us back to the town centre and a couple of beers were consumed outside a café. Going to bed, I reflected on what had seemed a long day – I couldn't quite get my head around it, it was the following morning that I realised what I had overlooked.....

4.0 Day 4
4.1 Santiago do Compostela
4.2 Santa Trega
4.3 Santa Trega
4.4 Santa Trega
4.6 Santa Luzia
4.8 Fort, Viana do Castelo

[Bob]

  I love reading trip reports, it seems when I try I can hardly string a comprehensible sentence together 

[Rynglieder]

Day 5 Viano do Castelo > Peniche (230 miles)

It was after I finished loading up the bike in the garage that I realised what had put my timings out the day before. I noticed the clock on the GTR which I had not bothered adjusting, had synchronised back to the time on my phone. So there it was, Portugal is on the same time zone as the UK, one hour behind Spain. I'm used to this sort of thing travelling west to east but I had never considered it crossing a border north to south.

First job of the day was to join the motorway at make sure I exited for the first service area, just south of Viana do Castelo. Portugal is rolling out a barrier-less motorway toll system to improve flow and entrants to the country are supposed to enter the "Foreigners" lane at the service area, log their registration and present a credit or debit card for the tolls to be charged against after 30 days. It needs a bit of work though......

I parked up in the normal service are car park and walked over to the registration lanes to do the deal. There were a couple of traffic officers sat between the two lanes seemingly dying for someone to talk to as there were no punters around and fortuanely their English was pretty good. They explained I would need to ridge the bike down the HGV lane and then do a U-turn and come up the car lane the wrong way so that the camera could photograph the registration plate on GerTRude's arse. It seemed an interesting, but not very well thought out system. I was handed back my credit card and a receipt that the machine had spat out – luckily, the Officer Of The Law spotted that one of the digits from my registration had not appeared on the receipt and then through an intercom managed to get things corrected at their control centre. I felt quite fortunate he was there and taking an interest, I have no idea how I would have sorted that out on my own.

Onwards then. On my original plan the first proper stop of the day was to have taken us inland a bit to Braga, however Carole had expressed an interest in calling in to Porto having seen Julia Bradbury or some such personality gesturing at it on the television. As we had been up two chapel capped hills the previous day I agreed to the Porto visit instead. It was already going to be a heavy day on mileage, this would save us a bit and she does not ask for much input into our trips.

We found our way into the centre of Porto easily enough, the odd mistakes mostly down to me not reacting quickly enough to the Zumo's directions when lanes split into underpasses and flyovers immediately after islands. We chanced to park up on the riverside at the base station of a cable car that would take people to the higher parts of the city. We felt we should give it a go for the few Euros they wanted and enjoyed some decent views down the Douro River.

From Porto there were more motorway miles (without stopping at toll booths) down to Figueira do Foz, where we parked up near the fort of St Catarina. I'd seen a year's worth of forts by now, so I was rather more taken with the tall art deco style clock tower on the sea front - I really want one of those in my back garden. It was an OK break from the motorway, but not a highlight of the trip.

The same could probably be said for the next stop, Nazaré. The Miradouro do Suberco had been plotted into the Nav and it was at that clifftop viewpoint that we found a space for the bike and to look down the beach and take in another drink. A bit disappointing though, not a fort in sight.

It was only about another 40 miles down to our hotel for the night in the town of Penice, which is set on a small peninsular that pokes out into the sea a bit like the peg on a jigsaw puzzle piece. Inevitably we had to pass another fort on the final mile to the Hotel Pinhalmar. We were to be there two nights and I had managed to secure another room with a (substantial) sea view from its balcony.

It had been another hot day on the bike (35 degrees and more) and it was a relief to get into the jeans and tee shirt again. From our room we could see a lighthouse in the middle distance so took a walk out to it and watched a pretty decent sunset from the cliffs before purchasing a couple of bottles from the hotel bar to sit outside with before bed.

Another day that was a bit heavy on motorway, but not too bad.

5.1 Porto
5.2 Porto
5.3 Figueira do Foz
5.4 Figueira do Foz
5.5 Nazaré
5.6 Peniche sunset

[Rynglieder]

Day 6 Around Piniche (65 miles)

In the great plan the day had been set aside for a bit of a relaxation with local riding so that we had the option of a lie-in or an early night. After a leisurely breakfast we set out on a much lighter bike to see some bits of Portugal that were not framed by motorway crash barriers.

Our ride lead us to Torres Verdas where first we found our way to a hilltop overlooking the town (oh, yes, it had a fort on the top) and after taking the obligatory photos we made our way down into the town and took a gentle walk up the hill to the castle and looked back across the valley to-ward the hill and fort that we had just left.

There was some enjoyable riding to be had on "proper" roads back toward the coast where we settled at Porto Novo, a beautiful small beach resort that due to being out of season was very qui-et. We took a short walk around in the sunshine, had a coffee at the café on the esplanade and enjoyed it and the surroundings so much that we stayed for another.

Another pleasant ride northwards along the coast brought us to Consolacao where unsurprisingly we found a fort that we could sit below and watch the waves crash against the rocks for a while.
It was not much more of a ride to complete the circle back round to Peniche where we parked up by the harbour before going to town and dining on a takeaway hamburger. Although the day was wearing on there was still time to have a walk around the town (including its fort) before we took the last brief ride up toward our hotel. This time we passed by the entrance and rode out toward the clifftops again in the hope of catching a sunset as good as the previous night. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon we headed back for the hotel only to find now that we were not the only bike on the car park, we had competition from eight matching Polish BMW GSs. I don't know if they were expecting trouble, but I did notice that they seemed to have a support van for their trip. A beer was taken in the bar and then another one on our little balcony before the night's sleep.

A proper day's leisurely riding, I need to be incorporating more lazy days in future trips.

6.1 Torres Verdas – fort
6.2 Tores Verdas – castle
6.3 Porto Novo
6.4 Consolacao
6.5 Peniche - harbour
6.6 Peniche – fort
6.7 Peniche – last of the evening sun.

[Will14]

Great write-up, looking forward to the next installment, also very envious as a trip through Europe has been on my bucket list for years now but have never got around to going yet

[Rynglieder]

Day 7 Peniche > Albufeira (240 miles)

First job of the day after breakfast was to go into Peniche and buy Carole a new pair of gloves. During the run a couple of days before she had taken them off due to the heat and stuffed them into the gap between us. I was not aware of it and at one point during a long motorway stint lifted myself form the seat slightly to change my position a bit and of course you can guess the consequences; her gloves are on the inside lane of a Portugese motorway somewhere. Finding a pair of gloves for sale in 40 degree heat was challenging, you could get any amount of sunblock or shorts, but we cracked it in the end. I'm sure the shopkeeper was ecstatic, I bet he never thought he would shift those this week.

That done, we were back on the motorway heading south. It was back to traditional tolls now, the barrier free networks has not yet crept down there and we dropped into the usual routine of Carole feeding the machine so I was ready to make a quick exit.

The first real highlight of our run came just after we past Lisbon; The Vasco de Gamma Bridge. At 17km long it was worth the motorway toll and I thought it was a better ride than the Milau Viaduct which you have to be underneath to appreciate.

After this long and gentle cruise above the Tagus river we continued our motorway excursion and then dropped into Alcácer do Sal where we parked the bike at the side of its river and stretched our legs for a while and took the opportunity to grab another couple of cold drinks.

There were not too many more motorway miles before we broke away again for Santiago do Cacem where yet another hilltop castle had been plotted into the Zumo. It looked sensible enough on a flat map but the reality was narrow and very steep cobbled streets punctuated with blind crossroads; a bit challenging on the GTR. However, we managed to park up and take a walk around the gardens at its perimeter, taking advantage of a bit of shade from the trees.

At first there was some good cross-counrty running but the rest of our run down to the Algarve must have been seriously dull despite the hot sun and blue skies because I am struggling to remember anything much about it at all except for constantly feeding the toll machines until we came back into the areas covered by the cameras and charged to my card. Over the whole 17 day trip I had taken about 800 photos, but looking back at this day there are just 9 – I think that says it all.

The lack of stops on this leg of our tour did mean that we arrived at our hotel (about three miles east of Albufeira) at a reasonable time and after getting changed in our room with its balcony and (just) sea view took the receptionist's suggestion of taking the short ride into the Old Town.

I was beginning to realise I have become a bit of a travel snob. This busy resort full of British people, all-day breakfasts and Happy Hours did not appeal to me one bit. The thought "Blackpool with whitewash" presented its self for consideration and was duly accepted. We spent an hour or so walking round as dusk fell and then took the short ride back to the hotel. When the bike was secured on the hotel car park we proceeded to the bar next door which looked a bit more inviting than the one at the hotel. The customary beer (or was it two?) was downed before heading up for our last night's sleep in Portugal.

Back to Spain tomorrow – must remember to add the hour on......

7.1 Alcácer do Sal
7.2 Santiago do Cacém
7.3 Albufeira

[ARH]

Takes a while for the post to load.... but worth the wait    great write and pics 

[Rynglieder]

Day 8 Albufeira > Cadiz (226 miles)

Breakfast at the Hotel Velamar was the first time we had come across other English guests at any of our hotels, the upside of which was there was more of a selection of the food we were used to to set us up for the day. I still can't get accustomed to the Portuguese / Spanish thing of a breakfast consisting largely of cake.

Whilst in an ideal world we would have just followed the coast eastwards back into Spain, there was the matter of a huge area of wetlands with no roads through, which means a rather circuitous route between Albufeira and Cadiz.

There was time for a last stop in Portugal though and our first break from the motorways came at Tavira where we walked a loop including two bridges that took us over the river and back and included a coffee at a street café.

From there we were faced with another motorway run as not much had caught my eye or intermediate stops when planning. The idea was that we would stop briefly in Seville. OK, we were not going to get to see much of it because of our schedule, but I reckoned an hour there would be more interesting than taking a break at yet another motorway service area. We got in easy enough and straight to the motorcycle parking area near the Plaza de Espana I had seen when flicking through Google Street View many months back.

It was another almost unbearably hot day but a bit of parkland in front of the building we had come to see at least gave some shade below the trees and access to a kiosk for some bottled water. We only spent half an hour or so around there, I was conscious that we had made arrangements to meet the keyholder of our apartment in Cadiz at 17:00 and I was going to need a bit of time to find the place and find somewhere suitable to park the bike.

Unfortunately getting out of Seville was nowhere as easy as getting in. The Zumo had had another of its tantrums and was just showing a diagonal line across the face of the display with no regard for the lack of any actual road there. I knew I wanted to go south, so it was back to the old fashioned method of looking at where the sun was and pointing the bike in roughly the right direction. For no obvious reason the traffic was just not moving and it must have been the best part of an hour before we finally crawled to the motorway junction. Not only is the GTR hard work to hold up in stop-start traffic, I do find the clutch to be heavy and it was a great relief when the tendons in my wrist got a rest.

We took the first opportunity we could to pull off the motorway somewhere near Jerez so that I could drop a quick text to the keyholder to give bit of notice we were going to be late; just one word stuff, I had no idea how much English they understood. That done it was a case of getting into Cadiz as quickly as possible.

The general area of the apartment that we would be staying in for four nights was found easily enough but unusually there was no obvious place to park up the bike. That is to say, there were loads of allocated motorcycle spaces, but all rammed full of scooters with no GTR sized gap. In the end, wife and bags were dumped at the kerbside and whist she hauled the lot off toward the apartment I went off in search of somewhere I could leave the bike.

I have to say that when we got in there the apartment was a bit of a disappointment. The bed growled at us when we tried sitting on it to unpack the panniers and we quickly realised that the central legs were broken. We had also hauled about 60 PG Tips tea bags across Iberia so it was a crushing blow to Carole to find that there was no kettle. First exploration of our accommodation suggested that there was no balcony or outdoor space which lead me to having an attack of the grumps in anticipation of having to walk down four flights of stairs whenever I wanted a smoke. At least it had a well functioning air-conditioning system and after cooling off a bit, taking a shower and putting the last of the clean clothes on we then managed to teach a Tasimo coffee maker how to produce reasonably hot water that we could dribble over a tea bag. I then spotted the narrow staircase just outside the apartment door that lead to a roof terrace where I could have a cigarette. It was far from perfect, but looking a bit better.

We finished the day by spending the evening walking around Cadiz (and getting hopelessly lost in the process). Why Cadiz? When I was sorting out the route in the late winter I was drawn to it as being an interesting and historical city rather than a tourist resort of the sort that I have already confessed an aversion to. It was a good choice and suited us perfectly for our mid-holiday base. The whole city is pretty much a fort and sits on a nib of land that almost makes it an island. On our first evening we walked from our rooms which were literally next-door-but-one to the cathedral, along the centre of the city until we reached the sea on the western side of the peninsular. As I have said, we did manage to get rather lost on the way back but at least we had managed to pick up a couple of bits from a supermarket and I would have a bottle of something in the fridge to look forward to.

It was good to settle down for the night's sleep in the knowledge that there was no compulsion to do any big mileage in the morning. The day's riding had been mostly motorways or city centres; not the best, but at least we had seen a bit more of the world.

8.1 Tavira
8.2 Seville – Plaza de Espana
8.3 Cadiz – the cathedral square from our roof terrace.