It was a somewhat stormy night, with both wind and rain but I was snug and warm in my tent. I went to the loo before retiring the night before and checked on the sink spider – it had several feet sticking out of the overflow hole but wasn’t active.

I slept in a bit, then did a bit of chi gong and some yoga – three days in a row is a rarity these days but feels good. With a late start we decided to go for a walk rather than a ride, so got to investigate the trail that leads into a forest just down the road from the campground.

It was a very nice, peaceful place – nice smooth walking trails, lots of benches, little info placques here and there describing the local flora and fauna. We walked until the nice smooth trail became smaller and smaller, then turned back and went to our favourite cafe for a coffee.

Back at the campground a couple of hours later we watched as several other campers arrived, one of which was a cyclist on an electric bike and another couple in a van. The van had french plates but the couple was actually british but now live in the french alps – we had a very nice chat with them when they first arrived.

We had a really nice pasta with mushrooms along with salad for dinner, then went for another evening out at the cafe/bar. Once again it was very busy but we managed to get an outside table when someone else left. I told the owner we were leaving the next morning – he’s going to miss our business (ha ha).

In the morning we did get away at a decent time – it had poured rain during the night so some of my tent stuff was soaking wet but we weren’t going that far and I was able to spread everything out to dry when we arrived at a campground just southwest of Burgos.

Most of the drive was basically following the Camino Trail – at least the ‘main’ one – there were signs and walkers everywhere. Sometimes they’re on a little path of their own but every once in awhile they’re right on the side of the road.

We spent a quiet day just hanging out – had lunch at the campground’s restaurant and continued reading an excellent little book I’d picked up at the Charity shop several weeks ago. It’s called ‘The Little Coffee Shop in Kabul’ and I’m really enjoying it.

The next day was super exciting – we went into Burgos to get our photographer accreditations. We both got our photo credentials as well as stickers for the van and detailed race books – there was only one official photographers bib left so we’ll have to fight over who gets to wear it.

Back at the campground we spent some time going over maps to plan where we want to be for each stage, then I translated some of the info we’d been given to make sure we ‘knew the rules’ – basically we can get ‘race radio’ on Colin’s phone, and with the van’s stickers we’ll be able to drive and park where most people can’t. With the photo credentials we’ll be allowed to go ‘behind the scenes’ – it is so exciting I can hardly contain myself – I hope I can sleep tonight so I’m not a total zombie tomorrow!

Waking early we went for a ride before the day got too hot, Mo happily ensconsed in her royal carriage. We followed the road right outside the campground south until it turned into a wide dirt path, then continued on until it curved around and ended at the main east/west road.

We came back to Najera rather than going too far – there’s a market on today in the square by the footbridge and we didn’t want to miss it. We did have time to pass by our favourite cafe for a ‘cafe con leche’ first, however.

The market was fairly large, but was 95% clothing and shoes – mostly knock-offs of designer stuff like Calvin Klein and Polo, although the logos weren’t quite right.

After strolling through the market we crossed the footbridge and headed back to our cafe where we had refreshing beverages and a bit to eat. I chose the calamari which was, as expected, a little on the greasy side but tasty enough with the olive oil dip.

After a short nap in the heat of the afternoon we roused ourselves for a nice dinner of marinated mushrooms and salad, then back to – guess where?? – the cafe/bar. I face-timed Dominic but he was at work so all he had time to tell me was that he was smoking busy and the kitties were fine – good news.

The next morning I had a bit of a fright in the washroom – I was just about to brush my teeth when I noticed a movement out of the corner of my left eye. As I looked at the sink next to mine I saw several long shiny black legs sticking out and wiggling about in the overflow hole – I gave a little scream, then settled down. It looked like the spider was backing into the hole and trying to hide itself – I decided not to kill it, but definitely kept an eye on it – I actually moved to a sink on the other side of the space but kept checking on it every few moments. Judging by the length of the legs I really wasn’t keen on seeing how big the whole thing was and hoped it would stay in it’s hidey-hole and not come looking for larger quarry.

Since we weren’t up quite as early as yesterday we went for a slightly shorter ride, mostly through various side streets of the town. We found the Camino but didn’t bother riding up it, opting instead to go for a coffee – always a good decision.

On the way we stopped at the local monastery, but they wanted money to go in and see their gardens so we passed on that. Two travelling cyclists outside made a fuss over Mo, even taking her photo as she posed in her Mo-bile.

We decided to drive somewhere for lunch so headed for a nearby village but all we found was a small cafe so continued on instead to Santo Domingo de la Calzada. As we approached the town we passed the other campground that we almost stopped at on Tuesday and agreed again how glad we were that we weren’t there – not only was it right on the motorway but it was huge, and almost 4 km from the actual town. Where we are in Najera is very small and a tad unkempt/rundown, but kind of charming and easy walking distance to cafes, bars, etc.

We walked around a bit and chose an outside table at one of the many cafes – Colin got a seafood paella while I chose a pizza – both good options as it turned out. The food took a bit long to arrive, but was worth the wait, except that it meant we were still there when two ladies arrived for their lunch a few tables away and proceeded to poison us with their filthy, disgusting cigarettes. I read just yesterday that Barcelona has outlawed smoking at outside restaurant tables and dearly wish they would do the same here. Two smokers ruined the air for 13 or 14 other diners, none of whom were smoking – how is that fair? And why is it ok for some strangers to poison the air that I breathe?

Back at the campground after lunch we tried to do laundry in their machine – unfortunately it is ‘kaput’, but they did give Colin a nice little booklet with a map that showed where a laundromat was.

Having gotten the laundry done we hung it to dry just before it started raining – we pulled the drying rack under the canopy of the campervan hoping that the strong wind would be enough to dry it eventually.

During a break in the rain we took the opportunity to walk to our cafe for a glass of vino – it was very busy but we managed to get a table outside. When the rain started up again we moved inside for shelter – the place was just packed and the owner was cooking up a storm on the grill. We were still full from our lunch so didn’t get any food but it did smell good.

First thing in the morning I emailed Teresa to follow up about getting photographer’s passes for the Tour of Burgos – she responded that we can pick them up the day before the race! I’m so excited – maybe this is the start of something…

Before leaving Haro we took another bike ride – this time back up to Labastida that we’d passed through the other day. It actually was in San Vicente de la Sonsierra that we had the coffee and tapas on our way here, not Labastida.

Back near Haro I stopped to have a better look at the statues in the roundabout – once again the subject was wine.

We left the campground intending to stop at another one just a bit south at Santo Domingo de la Calzeda but we passed it by without even stopping – it was right on the highway and looked a bit dismal. We continued on to our second choice which was in the town of Najera – after several miscues from Miss GPS we finally found it.

It’s right in the town and is just beautiful – part of the site used to be a bullring, although it must have been a long time ago as some of the trees are very large and old. There are several other campers there – most from the Netherlands or Belgium, but we still got our pick of spots. It reminds me quite a bit of one of my favourite campgrounds which is the Rivercamp Aganovac in Blagaj, Bosnia-Herzegovina. It also was quite small and was in the middle of the town but I just loved it.

We got setup, including my tent, then went for a walk – it’s almost on the river and was a very short walk over the pedestrian bridge to the old part of the town. We walked around a bit then found a nice little bar where we stopped for a drink – lovely red wine for 1 euro a glass – I love it here!

Once again we are on one of the main routes of the Camino de Santiago – I’ve said it before: saint James really got around!

The next morning we had intended to go for an early ride but we were both feeling a bit lazy and not very energetic. I did do yoga, which felt really good, except I think I’ve pulled a muscle in my upper left leg – certain poses just don’t feel right and I have to be careful not to make it worse.

We did go back to the same cafe/bar for a coffee – the campground doesn’t have wi-fi and the cafe has great reception so I got caught up on a few things. Colin got a haircut at the little place right next door then we walked back to the campground for a lovely lunch of left-over salmon and salad.

After doing a bit of laundry-by-hand we walked back into the town in search of a supermarket. This side of the river – at least as far as we walked – wasn’t as charming as the other side, although we did find a grocery store. Steak and mushrooms for dinner tonight – roughing it again.

The morning was somewhat grey but not too chilly. Outside where we’d parked there were several goats grazing on the weeds, while their herder was behind the campervan with his goat-stick and cell-phone. He thought it was pretty funny that I was taking photos of his goats.

We looked at the maps and camping books and decided to head in the general direction of Burgos, choosing a nice sounding campground in the town of Haro, which is the capital of La Rioja – the land of cheap but very excellent wine.

We stopped first at a dump-site for the water just outside the town of San Vicente de la Sonsierra right on the Rio Ebro. There’s a nice large park with picnic tables and a great view of the medieval bridge.

One lady had two english setters that were chasing sticks – one of them jumped right into the river to retrieve it and the other had to be nudged and then had trouble climbing out. I think it was a large puppy while the other was more experienced.

After driving up the hill and through the town we headed a bit further to the village of Bastida/Labastida and stopped for coffee and some tapas. The coffee was very creamy and the tapas were tasty – salmon, sardines, and chorizo.

Leaving Bastida we found the campground in Haro and it was quite large and very crowded. They told us to have a look around and if we found some space that was great or if we didn’t we could leave. There were kids everywhere – weekend in Spain and half the country on holiday at the same time.

We found a spot and decided to stay at least for the night. We walked into the town and up the hill – very nice little place with absolutely everything having to do with the rioja wine. We found a nice cafe on the main square and had a drink – super cheap and very good, as expected.

And Haro is, of course, on the Camino trail.

The next morning we decided to stay another day and got out the bikes and the Mo-bile. We rode into the town and went grocery shopping, stopping again at the main square for a very large, creamy coffee.

Back at the campervan after Colin dropped off the food we took a ride along a ‘trail’ but it was very bumpy and we only rode about 1.5 km before turning back.

We had a drink at the campground bar, then back to the campervan for salmon and pasta dinner.

Race day dawned bright and sunny – much different on this mountain top than last year at Jaizkibel. Had a nice hot shower, then took a walk down the hill just a bit to see where the race was actually passing and pick a watching spot.

There was a nice female cop – Colin joked that she was perhaps Swedish as she was blonde and spoke very good English – she told us the women’s race would pass by coming up the hill and turning left around 11:00, then on the second time around would turn right and have 8 km left to go to Donostia/San Sebastian.

Since it was already about 10:30 we went back to the campervan to collect our stuff, including the nifty little camping stools we’d picked up in Cognac, then went back to choose our spots.

Colin and Mo ended up on a hillside just before the top of the climb, while I chose to park myself right at the spot where they turn either left or right. For the longest time I was the only one there – at one point one of the course marshalls came and spoke to me. He’d been at the Jaizkibel climb last year and remembered me because I’d been blown over backwards by the barrier when all of the cars passed the first time!

The ladies didn’t actually reach us until just before 1:00, and after they’d passed the first time I went back to the campervan and collected the umbrellas for shade, as well as some food – all very appreciated by Colin and Mo.

They came around the second time at 1:44 and I must say I was very impressed by the crowds – although I did have to move from my nice little chair as everyone that had gathered at the last minute all crowded in front of me. A moto with two fat guys on it also parked right in front of me and when I – and a very nice Spanish lady next to me – protested that I’d been there for five hours and had come all the way from Canada he just shook his head and basically said ‘tough shit’ (although in Spanish, of course).

The ‘Swedish’ policewoman had seen this and waved me over to where a very large official photographer had sat down on the road right at the corner – I squatted down behind him, figuring that I’d be safe and cushioned by him if anyone lost their balance on the corner.

After the second pass of the ladies we went back to the campervan and had lunch – this time Colin stayed on the ‘upper level’ where the campervan was while I went back down the road to the same spot I’d been in before – he was actually directly above me.

The first circuit of the men arrived at 4:44 with Movistar in the lead – Valvedere in 3rd position – followed closely by Quickstep. This time I’d moved to the inside corner and the men that were already there didn’t mind at all – they were taller than me and they assured me that I wasn’t in their way.

Fourty-five minutes later they arrived on their second pass on the way to the finish – this time young Belgian Remco Evenepoel was by himself in the lead.

Apparently, as we read later, by the time he was 3 km from the finish he was crying as he realized what a huge feat he was about to accomplish. He’s only 19 and was about to win one of the greatest one-day races of the year – he has a gigantic future ahead of him and is going to be a huge star of the sport.

It was a fantastic day of race watching and we were immensely pleased – the crowd was huge and it was super exciting to be at such an excellent spot and among such enthusiastic fans.

We had already packed up so as soon as the race had passed we were on our way. We headed south intending to stop at a campground in a national park not far away but both decided we didn’t care for it so went back down 8 km of switchbacks and parked for the night at a designated ‘aire’ in Altsasu – basically on the street with no facilities, but allowed by the town.

We managed to get away in the late afternoon – Colin drove with the local cycling club in the morning, then we ate lunch, packed up and left. I took some photos of the finished deck, which looks lovely.

We didn’t go too far as we wanted to stop in Aubeterre-sur-Dronne – Cassandra, who runs the campground in Mansle, has also taken over running the municipal campground there so we stopped for dinner. It’s in a beautiful spot, right on the river with a lovely beach and restaurant/bar.

The next morning we got a much earlier start, and after once again being mis-directed by Miss GPS we were on our way south. We took quiet back roads and the sky got more and more grey, then the rain hit.

We arrived at the small campground just outside Souraide in time for dinner. It was the same place that kindly found room for us last year at the time trial for the Tour, even though they were already very full. By now it was dry enough that I actually pitched my tent for the first time this year.

We were once again on the road just before 11:00 the next morning, being in no particular hurry and with not that far to go. We went west almost to the coast, then south into Spain – traffic was horrible as, once again, we avoided the motorway in favour of smaller roads.

Once in Spain we diverted around San Sebastian and tried to find the race route and pick a place to watch from. Unfortunately we followed the arrows for several miles before realizing we were on a big loop and were going way out of our way. Turning around we back-tracked to the last climb of the race and found a campground right at the top – very convenient.

The brutally hot weather has finally broken, at least for now. After reaching around 40 more than once there’s since been a couple of fierce storms – lightning, rain and lots of wind.

Since it’s not quite so hot anymore we went for a lovely ride one morning – it’s so much more pleasant riding when it’s sunny and warm rather than sunny and blistering hot.

We had a nice visit with Tony and Joyce one afternoon on our way home from shopping in Ruffec – they’re so nice and don’t mind when we just pop in unannounced.

We’ve applied online to get ‘photography passes’ for the Tour of Burgos and was it ever a frustrating experience. We got a response very quickly after sending an email, and were asked to fill out a form and send a couple of photos and some ID. OK – no problem, except nothing worked right. First of all I saved the form as a PDF, but when it was saved all of the info I’d filled in disappeared. Then the photos – mine were jpg, but Colin’s phone put his into a different format that the lady (Teresa) couldn’t use. So we re-filled the form on Colin’s laptop and I took a photo of it with my i:pad – all was resent to Teresa and we’re now waiting for approval. All together it was about 3 hours of frustration and I was ready to scream – I had a glass of wine instead.

Another day we had to go down to Angouleme to get a carriage for Mo – Colin had ordered one online but it hasn’t shown up yet and we’re about to leave for Spain. The carriage is made to seat 2 kids in it and be pulled by a bicycle – the young folks that helped us in the Decathlon store thought it was great that it was for Mo.

Assembling the carriage was another exercise in frustration – it came with no clear instructions so Colin looked at some youtube videos which were somewhat helpful. Again it took far longer than expected but finally we had success – we celebrated by putting Mo in her Mo-bile and taking her down to the pub for a drink. No more listening to 80’s music and being bribed with a sausage for her while we go out for bike rides!

Had a nice shower in the morning before leaving at a decent time. We headed north back past Cahours to once again avoid the Bordeaux area and ended up at a larger campground on the River Lot.

There’s a really nice beach with lots of folks enjoying the water, swimming and paddling, etc.

We were very hungry so ended up each having a nice piece of quiche at the beach bar in the shade overlooking the river before being driven to return to the campervan by the chain-smoking Germans at the next table.

Later in the evening we walked up to the restaurant for dinner – I took a chance and ordered the ‘caesar salad’ which, as a salad wasn’t bad, but wasn’t even close to any caesar salad I’ve ever made. It had chicken, which isn’t out of line, but also had tomatoes, olives, onions, and red-leaf lettuce in place of romaine. It did have parmesan cheese, however, as well as tiny croutons so it wasn’t a complete fraud.

The next morning before heading back to Mansle we took a little side trip to the picturesque village of St-Cirq-Lapopie just up the road. It’s perched up the side of a very steep hill and has been given a new life in the form of ‘artisan studios’ and lovely little restaurants and shops.

It was a bit touristy, but was a nice change from some of the almost empty villages with nothing but derelict buildings and shuttered shops that are so prevalent in some areas now.

We walked around and up and down, then chose a bar to have a rest and refreshing drink in. It was starting to get pretty hot so we left the village and hiked back up to the car-park.

There were wonderful views of the village and valley below, with the river Lot flowing through the middle. We took smaller back roads generally north, and stopped in the village of Livernon for lunch. Colin had noticed a restaurant that was actually open and had people in it so we parked and went in.

It was blazing hot out and we endeavoured to find a place to sit out of the sun. We both got the plat-du-jour which was rabbit, and was it ever good. I haven’t eaten rabbit in a long time and it was just delicious.

Back on the road we headed up to Rocamadour, which has a medieval village climbing up a mountain – it’s also on yet another camino, and is an important pilgrimage destination.

Luckily there’s a funicular that you can take partway down and back up. The place was crawling with people, and reminded me a bit of San Marino with all of the somewhat tacky shops.

It also had an abundance of restaurants, and we chose one to have a thirst-quenching drink in. I should also mention that not all of the shops were tacky – there were also many selling local specialities such as nut oils, foie gras, and soaps.

We didn’t stay too long before taking the funicular back up and continuing our journey – air conditioning blasting.

We arrived home a little late, having stopped so many times, but it had been a great little road trip.

We had a bit of a sleep-in, then went for a nice walk after breakfast. We walked along one side of the river, past some cute goats, then around past the string of campervans. We saw large GJ on the road in several places – we tried to figure out which rider it was in honour of when I finally realized it must be for the ‘Gilet Jaunes’ protests, and it is in yellow.

One Norwegian couple had an adorable little JR up on their table – he seemed very interested in us but the lady had to admit that – no – he was only interested in the cheese in her sandwich – ha ha!

A great many cars had gone up the road during the night and more in the morning, and then finally the road was closed – we’re just a few km past the village of Arthez d’Asson.

We struck up a nice conversation with some fellows from the UK.

About 2 hours before the race arrived two vans of VIP’s pulled up in front of the house across the river – they setup tables and everything and had champagne served to them, followed by a sit-down lunch. Luckily they left shortly after they’d eaten so wouldn’t be getting in our way.

The caravan was great, as usual, and we did very well again with the loot. Just before 3:00 the breakaway of about 15 riders arrived just 3 minutes before the main group.

We laughed when comparing it to yesterday’s stage – arriving the evening before and getting over eight hours of racing enjoyment in all, then today when it was over in about 4 minutes.

We took the time for a quick bite to eat before heading back north – I read out live updates on the race’s progress as we drove, so we knew who conquered the Tourmalet.

About 1 km from where we’d been we came across a sight that the british fellows had told us about – a farmer had hung two large dead sheep up with a sign protesting about the wolves. They love to protest over here, and farmers are very upset about wolves these days killing their sheep.

When we stopped for gas there was a small field next to the station with 3 cute donkeys in it – there was a couple there feeding them bread and I tried to tell them it likely wasn’t good for the donkeys but they didn’t seem to care. I went back to the campervan and got some carrots, which the donkeys loved – much better for them than bread.

We got as far as Rabastens-de-Bigorre before stopping at a small campground for the night.

The morning of the ITT was beautiful – the almost-full moon was still up and mist was rising on the hilltops as the sun rose. Some of our fellow campers had partied until very late – I doubt they enjoyed the morning as much as I did.

I was amazed by how many more campervans and tents there were since last evening – I’m happy for the farmer.

There’s a giant chicken near the gate to the field, and they’ve set up a small stage, a couple of food trucks and a display of vintage cars.

Hundreds of people have walked up and down the road in front of us – we’re partway up the largest hill on the course.

We did pretty well when the caravan came through – it was much earlier than expected and we had to run for it as we were exploring at the time. There’s a women’s race on – not a time trial, however, and they had passed us once when the caravan came again. It was actually the second half of the caravan, and the women did five circuits in all.

Right after the women passed for the last time several of the men came on their recon rides for the ITT.

The first racer arrived around 2:30 and the last passed us at 5:47 – a long, but entertaining day overall.

And Ricardo – our friend from Spain – showed up with some friends! They’d been a little further up on the course and had made their way down to us – they found us by our flags. We had a short little hello – I gave them all water, then they were on their way again.

As soon as Alaphillipe passed we started to take down the flags and prepared to leave. We headed directly to our next stop at the bottom of the Col du Soulior in the Pyranees.

We passed a line of campervans on the left side of the road and rounded a tight s-curve over the river – right on the other side was a space just big enough for one campervan, right next to a field of lamas – or maybe alpacas – not sure which, and they weren’t talking.