Category: Cycling

Trevi and on to Tirreno-Adriatico Stage 5

Leaving Asciano early – without breakfast or even a cup of tea (because of lack of electrics again) – we stopped in Castigliano del Lago for groceries. There was some kind of race going on – it looked like a walking/running race perhaps around the lake. After we parked once again at the aire in San Feliciano I saw one of the runners – looking fairly fit, but puffing on a vape as he ran.

The aire was almost totally packed – most of them likely here for the race. There also were two tour buses that pulled up and discorged several dozen old folks who proceeded to amble along the lakeside promenade into the town. I was walking Max at the time and the volume of them seemed to intimidate him a bit – we decided to return to the camperan rather than venture into the village for tea.

I do have a comment about the lake…Trasimeno is the third largest lake in Italy and you can literally see the perimeter of the entire lake from where we are. The surface area of the lake is just over a third of that of Okanagan Lake, and overall that’s around 350 square km. In contrast Lake Superior is over 82,000 sq km of surface area.

It doesn’t mean one is more beautiful than the other, however, although Trasimeno does have a slightly more violent history. Hannibal played a trick on the Romans when he was invading, and they killed so many Romans that part of the lake turned red with their blood. Also, in WWII the Canadians broke through the Nazi line on the west side of the lake in one of many battles on the Allies’ way up from the south.

We met the new estate agents at the house in Papiano on Tuesday afternoon. Basically the woman spent most of her time making excuses for the lack of attention to the terrace. This is how the terrace should look…

…and this is how it looks now:

In the meantime I took the fellow outside with me and played ‘bad cop’ ranting about the terrace to the poor guy for about 15 minutes. I think we got it through to them that we weren’t happy and that something had to be done – as we had requested several times.

We left Papiano for Trevi, where we spent a couple of nice nights at the aire there, and had a lovely lunch at one of our favourite restaurants – La Vecchia Posta. We both wanted the roast wild boar but were told that that needed to be pre-ordered so settled for the wild boar ragout pasta instead, which was, of course, delicious.

We left after two nights for Fossombrone to find the route for stage 5 of Tirreno Adriatico. Miss GPS took us on a route we hadn’t been on before, and it was just beautiful – lots of lovely little towns and wide green valleys. Even the road surfaces weren’t too bad!

We found, as usual, an excellent place to park on one of the climbs for a couple of nights and settled in to wait for the race the next day. There are lots of deer and wild boar around here – I think we hear the wild boars sometimes at night, and I’ve seen several deer in the field across the way in the late evening.

Race morning was not bad – not so much wind, and not raining.

Coverage on the tv didn’t start until right around where we were, but as usual all of the police motos and the helicopter…

…let us know when the riders were near.

Alaphillipe was in the breakaway of seven or eight, with the peloton following around 5 minutes behind. Colin lucked out as the EF rider threw his bidon directly to him – it was the one he wanted the most this year.

After the last rider had passed we retired into the campervan and watched the last half of the race on tv.

From just down the road you can see Fano (I think) and the Adriatic Sea in the distance.

Papiano Terrace Dismay – and Strade Bianche!!

When we visited the house in Papiano we were dismayed to see the state of the terrace – it’s so covered in ivy it looks like the little house is being eaten! The lovely terrace is one of the best features of the house and the estate agents have let it go to shit – despite several requests from Colin to please have it tended.

We made an effort for over an hour – having brought some gardening tools with us, but it was just too much for us. A meeting with the agent and a demand to get some help are in order!

After our disappointment with the house we stopped for lunch at Monte Buono on our way back to the aire on the lake – the food was delicious as usual, with me taking home over half of my seafood lasagne for tomorrow’s breakfast.

Later that afternoon I took Max for a walk and visited the small supermarket to get some essentials (ok – wine!!). At the checkout there was a man ahead of me that was purchasing one bottle of beer – the cashier opened it for him and he had it half finished by the time he was out the door. Then Max – the little moocher that implies to everyone that he never gets fed – got a nice little piece of the next fellow’s salami sandwich.

We decided to get to Asciano nice and early so headed there on Thursday to spend the night in the local aire, before going to our favourite place to watch Strade Bianche. It’s partway along the section named for Fabian Cancellero – or maybe just a bit past it.

We got to the space before 9 in the morning and there was only one campervan already there – he was parked in an awkward way and took the space of probably three others but we had plenty of room so it wasn’t our problem.

Several more campervans joined us throughout the day – two of them were related to each other so it’s nice that they both got a space. Sometime in the late evening our electrics started failing – apparently we can’t watch tv all day and charge all of our devices and expect the solar panel and battery to carry it all – bummer! We spent the night with no lights available for loo trips but made it through ok. Within an hour or so of the sun rising on race-day morning the battery was almost recharged and we were okay for the rest of the day – although we did try to not run too many things at the same time.

The campervan next to us had a little boy – maybe about four or so – he was just adorable and one of the local farmers took him for a ride around the fields on his caterpillar/tractor.

Race day started out nice and sunny, and the usual parade of amateur riders and fans started to pass by. One family were quite obviously Pogacar fans – even the little girl’s face had a Slovenian flag painted on it.

Because we’d been able to get the starlink back up we knew when the race was nearing us and who was in front – but we didn’t really need the tv as we could see the helicopters and the motos were racing past us, and the dust was rising on the road as they approached.

…

The first to pass us were three riders from UAE – with Pogacar in the middle of two team-mates. It was quite dusty and the wind direction had unfortunately changed – the flags were hanging better but the dust got everywhere!

We saw on the tv that Pogacar made his move on one of the next climbs, ending up once again going solo for many miles before winning for the fourth time – well done!

We stayed until the end of the race before taking down our flags, saying farewell to our neighbours and going back to the aire in Asciano for the night. Once again we’d drained the electrics a bit but it was quite alright for the night.

Vuelta Frustrations, South to Storm and Beauty

After spending the night after the race on the mountain we left very early, just as it was getting light. We were back at Rio Luna nice and early – had a shower and took it easy for the next few days. A couple of nice walks with the dog, and watching more Vuelta stages on tv in the bar.

I got quite upset while watching one stage as the organizers shortened the race before the final climb due to the f’ing protestors. I will say again and again – it’s a race, not a political event – f-off!

We left the campground on the Wednesday morning heading south past Leon. Just before the city Colin said ‘oh my – what is that’ – it was a little dog racing towards us right on the motorway. He slammed on the brakes and the car in the exit lane to our right just managed to avoid the little fellow. We pulled right and put on the hazard lights – I jumped out the side door and started running back down the motorway after the dog. All of the oncoming traffic slowed and a couple of folks stuck their heads out saying ‘he went that way!’. I tried to catch him but he was a very fast runner – obviously panicked – and I am not. I jogged along calling ‘puppy, puppy’ for about a mile then had to give up. As I didn’t see him dead on the road I had hope that he’d managed at least to get off the road and down to a field on the side. Going back to the campervan I was very sad – the little guy was so cute, perhaps a Yorkie or something, and I would have been so happy to catch him. A short while later we passed a car accident – looked like a motorcycle had been hit and the rider was strapped to a board ready to go into the ambulance. Maybe the little dog had escaped from the car after the accident.

We got to Valladolid and after stocking up on supplies at Lidl we found the time trial course, which was the same as when we were here two years ago. Finding the same spot we’d been in before we settled down for the afternoon – but that didn’t last that long. A police car pulled up and started asking questions – basically they were on the lookout for protestors and were trying to head off any trouble. I decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to show them the pieces of cardboard painted with the palestinian flag that I’d pulled off the poles on the mountain stage we’d been at! In any case the police made us leave our spot and led us – with lights flashing – to a parking area a few hundred meters back, which was fine.

After a nice quiet night Colin gave me some bad news – the route of the ITT had been shortened due to the fucking protestors so they would not be coming past us after all. We saw our Belgian friends leaving the route, then we took the time to let a couple in a UK campervan know as well before just heading back south to the house. God damn ignorant protestors – I’m so fed up with them!

We got all the way back to the house in one day – a bit of a long drive, but no problems along the way. The bougainvillea are all blossoming again, the window boxes are flourishing, and it’s plenty warm enough for swimming so all is ok here.

We got to watch the final few stages of the Vuelta on tv, and more than once again the f’ing ignorant ‘free palestine’ protestors had a negative impact – I wish the police would just arrest them all and throw them in jail for a few days (or at least until the race is over!).

The Renault and the campervan are both in different shops getting things done so we’re down to just one vehicle – which is fine for the amount of driving we usually do.

We’re having the house painted by our ‘neighbour across the valley’ – she’s a lovely little lady and is always smiling and happy. Her son lives in the house that shares part of our driveway.

We think that the police have finally caught the burglars that have been terrorizing our valley for the last several weeks. Colin will have to watch the local facebook group chat page for confirmation.

One day we had a torrential rainfall – so hard it wasn’t even large drops but more like a waterfall. The wind was also very strong and coming from the south – we found out that two of the smallest windows that face that way need a bit of weatherproofing as they leaked live sieves. I spent about an hour mopping the floors in both the snug and the office, and one of the walls is going to need cutting and re-plastering on the inside.

I’m not sure if we’ll get any more swims since the recent rains and much colder nights, but it’s still nice enough to sit outside and enjoy the view.

Return to Rio Luna, and Vuelta up San Lorenzo

We left the house on a Thursday morning and made it as far north as the lake just past El Tiemblo, where we’d stopped a couple of years ago. I took a lovely photo of the lake near sunset, and when looking back at the last time we were here I seem to have taken an almost identical photo – I guess when I like something I like it!

After a nice quiet night we got going north again fairly early, avoiding toll-roads and arriving at our favourite campground Rio Luna.

We spent a few days just chilling out, going for a couple of nice walks, and watching the Vuelta on the tv in the campground’s bar – while sipping some nice Rioja.

On our second day here I had a fight with a folding lawn chair…

…I lost.

Two days before the stage we came to see we took a little re-con drive to the general area, and decided to go to the second-to-last climb rather than the last one.

There are a couple of places along the way where the fires had swept down one mountain, across the road and up the other side.

Luckily there aren’t any bad ones around the area at the moment, although it was a horrible summer in some places.

Back at the campground one of the local ranchers was moving his herd of sheep, taking some time for them to graze in the field just outside the campground’s fence before moving them along.

We got up quite early the next morning to head to the mountain we’d chosen for Saturday’s race, leaving just as it was getting light.

It was still misty when we got to the top of the San Lorenzo, and we found a wonderful wide spot that only had two other campervans parked.

…

We had a couple of nice walks – there are lots of horses and cows on the hills and they’re not all fenced in.

By evening there were many more campervans both behind and in front of us, and during the next morning we couldn’t believe how many more managed to squish in.

An enterprising fellow brought an ice-cream truck up – he also had chips and beer – looked like he was doing a good business.

Our ‘Belgian friends’ arrived in their huge bus, this time with Tudor on it rather than Quickstep. They stopped and said a quick hello to me (I was out walking Max) before heading back down the climb to park. Later in the day they walked up and we had a really nice chat – we first met them several years ago and have seen them regularly at many different races in several different countries. They are Alaphilippe supporters thus the sponsor name change on their bus. It was really nice to see them again.

At one point one of the black horses and her little foal started walking down the road and a car was coming up from below us – I made the ‘slow down’ motion to him. When he stopped I realized he was the horses’ owner and he got them back up the track where they would be safe.

The Palestinian protesters had been busy – there were slogans painted on the road, and stickers on all of the signs denouncing Israel, etc. Colin and I, and also one of our neighbouring campervaners scratched off as many as we could. Then later Colin noticed that many of the signposts up and down the road had cardboard painted with Palestinian flags tied to them. I walked down about ½ km and tore them all off the posts – almost every single person parked along the road either gave me the ‘thumbs up’, said ‘good job’ or ‘thank you’!

There was one woman sitting on the road almost across from our campervan who actually said ‘don’t you support other people’s right to their opinion?’ and I countered with ‘I do, but this is a cycling race, not a political forum’. Our neighbour also told her to shut up.

We did get, of course, a marker for ‘top of the climb’, along with a bit of barrier – also several well-armed policemen. I had a nice chat with one of them and they’re not going to tolerate any guff from any protestors.

There have been a couple of issues with protestors intefering with racers, and there’s talk of changing the final day into Madrid. Not to mention that the Israel Premium Tech team is under pressure to withdraw – they’ve already removed ‘Israel’ from their jerseys and I’m sure some of the riders are more than a little anxious. Again – it’s a sporting event!

As usual we knew when the riders were getting close because of the helicopters and motos, then we could see them snaking up the hairpins below us.

…

It took a while for everyone to pass, then we walked up to where a group of folks were gathered outside a campervan. The fellow had swivelled his tv out the door and we all got to watch the final climb up past Saliencia with Soler – a spanish rider – triumphant at the finish. A really, really good and fun couple of days on the side of a mountain.

Local Races, Doctors and Tests, Lunches and New Car

Most of the terrace plants are doing really well – we haven’t been at the house this long in past years so they’re getting tended and watered more. The jasmine especially is very lush, and the two tomato plants have sprouted up like crazy.

Colin’s hernia operation went well – he has a follow-up appointment soon to make sure all is ok. I convinced him to use my upstairs bedroom for a week while I used the spare bedroom/office/library. Thus he didn’t have to go up and downstairs as much and all he had to do was move into the lounge to get to the couch and watch tv while he recuperated.

The ‘honey man’ is at the market every Friday morning – I’ve tried several of his products and all are delicious. We also get what we can from the veggie people, and have tried scallops from the fish guy.

We took a drive to Confolens one day for fish and chips – it ended up being a bit of an ‘adventure’. First of all we went in the campervan as the fish and chip shop is quite small and in case there wasn’t room we’d be able to park somewhere nice and eat inside the campervan.

There were roadworks on the way and the main diversion included going under a bridge with fairly low clearance. We couldn’t fit under so turned around and ended up following another campervan that seemed to know where they were going, eventually getting across the river and into the town. To top it all off the cafe was closed due to ‘it being too hot to open’!

We’ve been to the little restaurant at Villognon several times now and always enjoy what we get, although I must say that the duck confit I had the first time was my favourite.

We helped out at the annual ‘kids’ races in Saint Angeau, parking the campervan at a side road near the finish line to marshall any traffic and prevent them from turning in either direction. Luckily there was a french lady on the other side of the main road doing the same thing and she took care of most of the interactions with the drivers. There was only one driver that was somewhat ornery, but at least he did as directed and didn’t try to run us over.

The following weekend we helped again at another race – the Paul Poux, which has about 300 entrants and covers three different routes of varying lengths. This time Colin and I were at different places – he was right in Goue and I was just down the road at another spot. I was very nervous about being alone and not being understood so I printed up four papers in french with phrases on them such as ‘there is a cycling race on’ and ‘you may only turn left when I tell you it’s safe’.

There ended up being many more cars than I expected entering and leaving my little side road, but every driver was extremely nice and co-operative and several laughed at my phrase pages. Luckily the races had started early as it was getting very hot by the time we left around 10:30.

On our way to Aigre one day we saw that the restaurant in Villejesus had re-opened. We were very happy to see that and stopped on the way home for a drink. There’s a nice war memorial across the road…

…we went back several days later to have lunch but they wouldn’t let the dog inside and we didn’t want to sit on the outside area as it’s right on the road so ended up getting pizza from one of the places in Aigre.

The next weekend we helped out at yet another local race – this time the regional gravel championships.

There are many ‘white roads’ around here and it was a sunny and hot day. We were assisting at the water table, handing out bottles as the riders passed. I ended up taking over the opening of the bottles and setting them out on the table for the others to ‘hand’ to the riders as they pass – not as easy as it might sound in some cases.

Colin got a new car! He’d been looking online for a Porsche Panamera but decided that the potential maintenance costs could get pretty high so we ended up at the BMW dealership in Angouleme. He’s dealt with them for many years and ended up getting a lovely sporty coupe.

I wouldn’t want to be getting in and out of the back seat as a passenger but the dog likes it, and the hatch/storage area is huge. Apparently it’s really nice to drive but I haven’t tried it out yet – I’m fairly comfortable with the ‘old’ blue one (which we have kept) but will eventually have a go with the new one.

We made another trip up to Confolens and had success this time with the ‘english’ fish and chips. The shop is quite small and there’s only sitting outside with space for about 20 people. We were lucky as we hadn’t made reservations and it was the best fish and chips I’ve had in a long time. Having delicious local french cuisine at one of the many restaurants we now frequent is one thing, but fish and chips brings fond memories from childhood.

We took delivery of firewood for next winter – the pile seemed so large when we started…

…but it only took about 90 minutes – with a small break – to stack it neatly on the lower terrace.

Colin had a follow-up appointment with the hernia surgeon and she was quite pleased with his recovery. He also had an initial appointment with a urologist – he was one of the rudest professional people I’ve ever encountered. First of all, when we were in the waiting area a woman came out one door and muttered ‘that was very rude!’. When we’d gone in we realized why – the doctor was constantly saying very nasty things under his breath in french because Colin’s french isn’t perfect, especially when it comes to medical terms. Part of the problem was that I understood much of what the doctor was saying and it took all of my self-control not to reach out and slap him, then dramatically storm out. I really hope that Colin doesn’t need surgery as that doctor was horrible.

On a nicer note we got a small bird-bath for our feathered friends – it has a solar-powered pump that makes a little fountain so now they have a fat-ball feeder, a lovely seed feeder (made by Claire) and now a water source.

LEST WE FORGET!!!!

Since being back in Mansle we’ve gotten into a nice, if somewhat lazy routine. I’m usually up pretty early, then after breakfast and a cup of tea we take Max down to the campground for a run about (him, not us!). Then we go to one of the bars for a coffee/drink.

We’ve been out for some very nice lunches – my new favourite place is in Villognon. I had the duck confit the first time and it was just delicious – we’ve been back a couple of times since. Then for Colin’s birthday lunch we went to the Cheval Blanc in Luxe, and it was so good! I think my favourite course was the cheese trolley but by then I was so full I could only sample a few of the twenty or more offerings.

We’ve had to leave Max behind a couple of times, and he wasn’t happy about it – witness the destruction left in his attempt to get into the garbage can to ‘help himself’.

On Easter Sunday we went to the bar for a drink and passed an old fellow carrying a bunch of ‘greenery’ – turned out he was on his way to the church. We saw that most of the other folks were also carrying bunches – looked like weeds to us, but I think it was ‘palm Sunday’, although they certainly weren’t palm fronds.

There have been several heavy rainfalls, with the river going up and down each time. The hippodrome has been flooded and even the road down to the campground was closed for a few days due to the overflow.

The local cycling club hosted a regional race about a week ago and there was a good turnout. Colin and I manned the beverage table, and we got a delicious lunch first with all of the other helpers.

There were several motorcycle riders helping as well to lead out the various groups of riders.

It was a lovely day and we were very glad to have been able to help out.

We ended up with lots of leftover coca colas (I did not have one – never in my life), but ran out of beer (not my fault either!).

It was VE Day yesterday and it was a big deal here – far more important than ‘May Day’ last week.

There were several different groups of service people represented at the local war memorial where they layed wreaths, then all gathered at the bar for a drink afterwards.

It’s the most crowded I’ve ever seen the place!

I know that in other places in the world the end of WWII was a big thing, but over here, especially places like France, Belgium, The Netherlands, etc it is a really, really big deal. It hits you in the face at times like you can’t even imagine back in Canada.

Whether you’re seeing a large cemetery with hundreds of graves or a small roadside memorial to one unknown soldier – they are everywhere. And each and every one is immaculately kept and tended with love by the local people.

LEST WE FORGET!!!!

Gent Wevelgem and Home

After leaving the campground in the morning we tried to find a place to get a SIM card for the mobile wifi device. We were directed to the town of Zottegem where, I was told, I would be able to find a place that sold them no problem.

Well – it was a problem. First I took my ipad and wifi device into a kind of fancy shop that sold phones and all accessories and asked for a SIM card – I was told that I must have Belgian ID and would have to wait at least a week. I asked if there was any other place I might get a card without all the fuss and was directed to a place near the train station. Arriving there I eventually narrowed it down to a small ‘variety’ store and upon asking was immediately presented with a new card off the shelf without any need for ID or a waiting period.

But…that wasn’t the end of it. When I put the card in the mobile device it didn’t work. The owner of the store got his young teenage son to have a try, but after almost 45 minutes I had to give up as nothing he tried would make it work. You need to go onto a phone and download an app, then scan a bar code – I was lost and so was the young fellow.

I then took the card back with me to the first store, and they also tried for about 15 minutes without any more luck. I don’t know why it had to be so complicated and was so frustrated I wanted to throw something – although not at the fellows who had really tried to help.

After that exercise in frustration we headed to West Flanders to find the route for Gent Wevelgem which was the next race. We’d been in the very same area six years ago – not far from the Ploegsteert and one of the beautiful and moving war memorials and many cemeteries.

We followed the route almost to the Kemmelberg and found a nice spot on the side of the road behind a couple of other campervans. Along the way we spotted several different groups of people apparently on tours of the WWI sights. There were four or five large golf-type buggies, then some sizeable walking groups.

After a nice quiet night I was, as usual, up early. There are some marked paths for walking, cycling and horseback riding and I followed one for a bit, only stopping when it crossed a farmer’s field and curved in the opposite direction from where I wanted to go.

As usual when on a race route there were many amateur cyclists going by, so after breakfast I walked down the road to see what was ahead. Just around the corner down from us were some ‘race marshalls’ for the sportif/fondo that was going on.

I asked them just to make sure we were on the Gent Wevelgem route and was told that the race would be coming down three times from a small side lane and turning sharp left onto the road we were on.

Then 400 meters on they would turn left again and go up the Kemmelberg. I asked three different people and was told the same thing.

Colin and I took Max and walked down to the turn up the Kemmelberg – fans were already trecking up to claim their places. There was a nice little park at the bottom with some amusing carvings.

We had to leave Max in the campervan as he’d just get too excited by the race and all the fans, and picked our spot right where the side lane joined the main road.

The first sign of the race arriving was a bunch of motos – all coming down the main road, then the riders arrived – coming down the main road that we were parked on! So much for getting advice from folks that are supposed to know.

The first time they passed us they arrived just before 1:30.

Two of the racers each threw any empty bidon to the little fellows on the road above us – they were so thrilled!

The final pass did come down from the side lane, and Mads Pederson was in the lead…

…and ended up winning.

The next morning we made a serious decision – we chose to return back to Mansle rather than chase and watch the other races. Back in 2019 when we saw 10 races in three weeks it was very exciting, especially for me, but now it was just very tiring, especially for Colin. Also – not to be discounted – the toilet in the campervan got screwed up and was not opening/closing – not good!

We got back to the house in two days, and were very happy to watch the next few races on the big screen.

North to Spring Classics

After getting the campervan serviced we left the next day for Belgium. Rather than trying to get up in two days we left a little later in the morning and took three days to get there.

The second night we stopped behind a church just an hour or so from the border.

They had a lovely memorial to WWI.

We crossed from France to Belgium without seeing a border – the road in the photo below is in France, and the church is in Belgium.

We arrived at the camperground in Zwalm before noon.

The fluffy white cat was still there – its deaf and has one blue eye and one green eye and is very friendly.

We headed the next morning to Kwaremont on the route of E3-Saxo and found a nice place to park just out of the town. They’re erecting a VIP tent and have a large flat area for campervans – likely for another race later in the week.

We walked down into the town – there were a bunch of folks enjoying a beverage in the town square.

I went into the nearby church, which was nice, if a bit gaudy inside.

The first racer arrived around 4:30 – Mathieu van der Poel…

…followed by Pederson, then Ganna. Van der Poel ended up winning in style.

Vuelta – Montana de Manzaneda

The drive on Wednesday to Thursday’s mountain finish wasn’t too far – the GPS told us to leave the road we were on a little sooner that I expected but we were headed in the right direction so we kept going.

After several km we came to the village of Paraisas where the road turned into a bit of a goat track more suitable for mountain biking.

We were sure that the race couldn’t be coming through here but some locals told us that the village of Cova was indeed ahead and so we continued on. We joined the proper road only a few miles further and knew we were now on the route.

The turnoff up the final climb was, for once, well marked as it’s a local ski and hiking destination. We drove all the way to the top and were pleased to see a very large paved parking area – perfect for the team buses and tv crews, etc.

Not wanting to be right at the top we went back down a couple of km and pulled into what looked like a perfect spot with lots of room and separated from the road by a metal barrier. There was one other vehicle there at the time that turned out to be a family of hikers who ate lunch then left.

We had a nice relaxed afternoon until a moto cop knocked on our door and told us we had to leave. He said we could go towards the top of the climb, then take the road to the right. We could park there and take the chairlift down in the morning to watch the race. We weren’t that keen on the idea but did go partway up before turning back, as did several other campervans.

We ended up backing onto the edge of a small dirt side road where we parked for the night. We were joined by another campervan and by the next morning a few cars as well. I still like seeing the younger fan riders making their way along a route…

By later afternoon the whole lane was swamped with cars as was the main road – we all agreed that the organizers were stupid!

So many excellent places for campervans and cars to park and they banned us from them all.

They erected a banner just below us showing that we were 2 km from the finish and a cute little boy wrote in chalk ‘Mate’ several times in front of the entrance to our lane.

By 5:00 some of our neighbours were pouring wine down their throats from a wine skin – they did of course offer me some (I did, after all, have the rah-rah skirt on).

I wasn’t as proficient at the pouring as they were, but perhaps with practise…

The entrance to our lane was eventually blocked completely by a police car, which was ok as I don’t think anyone else could have squished in.

The first racer arrived just before 6:00…

…with the main bunch about six or seven minutes later.

A few minutes after that I saw the Canadian champion’s jersey of Michael Woods coming so I quickly took one (slightly crappy) shot of him and for one very rare moment let my camera go and screamed ‘Michael Woods – go Canada!’. He actually looked my way and smiled as he went by.

Shortly after the race had passed we were one of the first ones back out on the road, passing by all of the team busses that were parked in all of the nice wide pullouts on the hill. Very strange that they weren’t at the top where there was so much room.

We drove towards Ponferrada and stopped in a large parking area just off the secondary road we were on – much quieter that a couple of nights ago!

Finding the Vuelta

Leaving the lovely park in the morning we tried once again to find the climb on the next day’s route.

We knew we were on the right roads part of the time but just didn’t know where all of the turnoffs were as nothing was marked yet. We back-tracked to Baiona and decided to go a bit west just for fun – once again we’ve found the Camino! – 150 km to Santiago.

And there’s a parking area with fantastic views of the ocean and a lovely smooth foot/bike path.

We stopped to take in the views and I laughed a bit at the fact that some folks, when presented with breath-taking vistas choose rather to look at their phones!

…

After a bit more to-and-fro we were once again heading north along the coast when we saw a large group of riders making a turn inland – today is the rest day and it was the entire Movistar team doing a recon of the final climb and then down into the finish. The road was not marked and if we’d timed it differently we might still be circling the area!

There were quite a few nice wide places to pull over so we got a bit ahead of the team so I could hop out and take some photos. They were very happy to see us and Enrique Mas posed for a photo with a team-mate as they rode past.

We found a spot for the night on the route and finally relaxed now that we knew we were on the right road.

In the morning the fellow from the campervan that was parked near us was busy putting Belgian flags up everywhere, and he had a lot of them!

We put a few of ours up as well, and as usual as the day progressed more and more fans showed up parking where they could along the road.

There was a bit of excitement at one point when a fan coming down the hill on his bike crashed and the ambulance had to come. There were police with flashing lights directing the traffic and the ambulance took the guy away up the hill – it seemed like a collarbone or shoulder injury so hopefully not too serious.

The race arrived right around 5:00 with Wout van Aert in the lead (we found out later that he won the stage).

Roglic and some of the other main contenders were about five minutes behind.

As soon as the race passed…

…we started to pack up and were on our way to our next chosen race watching place for Thursday. We made it to the city of Tui and found a Lidls to stock up on food, then continued on past Ourense looking for a stopping area along a secondary highway. We did find a place to stop but it was one busy little road and the cars and big trucks just whizzed past all night long – not much sleep happened!