Off on my bike : San Sebastian to Burgos

Orio

Turns out there is another big hill out of San Sebastian, they even have the cheek to charge me two euros to climb it... kind of worth it, once I reach the top there is a nice ride along a ridge with the ocean to my right and a valley, and mountains, to my left.  The bike is not liking the hills though, making some alarming clicking and squeaking noises. Then another hair-raising descent into Orio, my stop for the night.  I arrive at 8pm, well, time for some vino and 'home cooked' pasta.

I think I deserve a rest day in Orio, nice place with a beach, marina, and a pleasant old town.  I do some washing and bike maintenance, then a few beers and a fine meal, arroz con mariscos, then some kind of Basque fish - there are at least two Xs in the name.

There were many tunnels.

Straight up a hill next morning, I follow the coast a while, climbing one hill, down to a village, and so on.  Then a river takes me inland, or rather an old rail line following the river valley, climbing up via a series of bridges and tunnels, it is most cool.  Can't last though, I turn off to head up an even steeper hill, too much for pedalling, it takes me an hour to push the bike to the top.  Then the other side is a mess of rocks and gravel, so bad I have to wheel the bike down at times.

And so it continues, struggling up to mountain passes, some as high as eight hundred metres, and zooming down the other side.  Progress is slow, but I am getting there.  Good to be in Spain anyway, France was pretty but kind of dead, whereas here there always seems to be a party happening.  For instance I pass through Bergara, and there are bands playing from a balcony in the main square... well it would be rude not to have a beer, and they give me some tapas too, fair play.

Vitoria-Gasteiz.

Onwards, through Vitoria-Gasteiz, up over another punishing pass, my legs burn and the bike squeals - I have diagnosed it as the crank bearing, could be worse.  I make my campsite for 8pm again, and once again nor only are they still open, but smile and tell me 'it's not late'.  This would not happen in France...

I am hoping for some flat riding for the last day into Burgos, no such luck though, I stay in the mountains, sure is pretty but very hard work.  My legs seem to have run out of steam, I have to push the bike uphill a lot, well, it is putting less strain on the bearings at least.  No bike shops up here, I pass through many tiny villages, each dominated by a massive, fortress-like church or abbey.  I keep hoping to start a long downhill stretch , but it never happens, eventually I realise that Burgos is at an altitude of some nine hundred metres.  There is at least a decent road for the last ten miles or so, and I make camp for 8pm, again.  Time for a couple of beers and much tapas, all for a ridiculous nine euros.

High up in the hills.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.