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.

Colin and Neil went for a bike ride one morning while Mo and I stayed home and did yoga – having done it so rarely lately I’m pleased that I haven’t lost all my flexibility.

Then they made some progress towards installing the roller-shutter door in the basement, and Neil also replaced a part in the fridge of the campervan so it will run on gas or battery again.

The next day we said goodbye to Neil – he’s leaving for England before we get back – and got on our way by mid-afternoon. In order to avoid Bordeaux we headed southeast rather than southwest and just past Cahors found a nice little campground in the village of Cabrerets – after being once again mis-directed by Miss GPS. I knew we’d been misled when we crossed a bridge and turned onto a very narrow dirt road. Luckily there was a wide turning space after about a mile and we were able to back-track to the correct road.

There was an older fellow on a bicycle at the campground reception – he told us he was just leaving but we could park wherever we wanted and if he didn’t see us in the morning before we left we could just leave some money in the ‘honour box’.

It was right on a small river in a narrow valley with steep cliffs on either side. Many of the houses were made of the stone from the cliffs and almost looked as if they were built into them.

We found out that the fridge isn’t fixed after all – just barely enough to keep things a bit cool if we don’t open the door often. The drive south to Pau the next day was very pretty – we took small back roads and there was hardly any traffic.

Once again we found that we were on one of the many Camino de Santiago routes.

We went a bit past Pau and picked a spot on the time trial route. An enterprising farmer had opened one of his fields to campervans and a girl was collecting ten euros from each vehicle that entered.

We settled in, got the flags up and watched as more and more people joined us in the field. One campervan got stuck so the farmer came over on his tractor and pulled them out.

After another good breakfast at the hotel we left Rochefort and headed up to the Ile de Re which is just past La Rochelle. There’s now a large bridge connecting the island so you don’t have to take a ferry anymore.

We really liked the island – we drove up the south side to the Phare de Baleines at the northwest tip. Along the way we kept marvelling about all of the bikes and bike paths we were seeing – they’re everywhere and lots of folks are taking advantage of the lovely weather and flat terrain.

The lighthouse wasn’t quite what I expected – well, the lighthouse itself was as expected, but the area in front of it was a bit of a surprise. First of all, the very large parking lot was quite busy, and then you walk about 500 meters to a bunch of shops and restaurants.

The shops are selling mostly local goods – at least a couple have the ‘ass milk soap and skin-care products’ that I’d read about, and several shops sell various versions of little stuffed donkeys with the trousers that the local donkeys are famous for wearing.

The lighthouse is quite nice, although we didn’t pay to go in but just walked around it and then along the seawall on the other side. The tide was out and there were dozens of people walking around and even having picnics.

There are hundreds of small towers that people have made by piling up the beach stones – the first few might have been cute or funny, but so many copycats kind of ruin it for me.

We walked along a bit, then went back to the car and drove to the very end – the road ended so we back-tracked a bit to get on the road that goes east along the island’s north coast. We stopped at the town of Saint-Martin-de-Re which is right on the water.

We parked the car and walked towards the village centre along narrow cobbled roads. The sidewalks are also cobbled and very uneven, with different kinds of surfaces every few meters – walking was not easy. We passed an old church that seemed to be in ruins but actually was still in use with only the roof in ruin. I went inside and had a look at the stained glass windows which were ok, but the place itself had the faintly musty smell that I’ve noticed in a lot of old stone churches.

We found the main ‘square’ of the town that was, as in so many towns, ringed by restaurants, cafes and bars – only this time the centre of the square was actually a marina.

We chose an outside table at one of the restaurants for a late lunch and settled in for some people-watching. The place was very crowded with people milling about but what kind of bugged me was the cyclists everywhere that were riding through the crowds instead of getting off their bikes and walking for a bit. It’s nice that they’re out getting exercise but I was sure someone was going to get run over – luckily we didn’t witness any accidents.

My fish soup was delicious – it came with croutons and cheese, as well as a small ‘fondue’ to dip my bread in. We both got the same main course, which was lightly-breaded white fish on a bed of baby potatoes and mushrooms – also very tasty.

After eating we walked around a bit along the ramparts – the entrance to the marina is fairly narrow and boats had to take turns coming in and going out. There were some girls jumping off the cement and swimming inside the walls – don’t know if that would have been my preferred place, and I bet it was pretty cold.

We got back to Mansle in the early evening but didn’t bother with dinner as we were both still full from the lovely lunch we’d had.

After a nice breakfast at the hotel we walked via a different route to the area the market had been in. There’s another series of nice parks along the way, and a couple of statues and displays.

We intended on getting another Lavazzo coffee but that cafe wasn’t open so we went down another road to the main square in front of the city hall.

It’s got a fountain with statues on top and the large square is ringed with cafes – we chose one and had a coffee there.

It wasn’t Lavazzo, but was a different Italian kind so was still pretty good.

Walking back down to the river we stopped at another cafe and had a drink – there’s a dog at the cafe that’s really cute – he reminded me of Snoopy from the Penalty Bar. He’s got a nifty haircut – done by the owner herself – and is very amorous towards Mo, who couldn’t care less. Charlie had to be brought back inside several times.

Down at the river the barricades had been removed so we were able to enjoy strolling along the river path. I had been completely wrong about which way the river was flowing – it actually does a large loop around the town so was going in the opposite direction of what I’d thought.

We reached a marina right near the hotel, and there’s a nice looking restaurant on one side.

Once again we watched the day’s Tour stage on tv before going out for dinner. We went to the restaurant on the marina and it was a good choice – I opted for their burger with fries. The fries were especially tasty – they were cut in rounds and were nice and crisp on the outside – perfectly cooked and not soggy or mushy.

It was a good thing we’d gotten there fairly early as by the time we left the place was packed. It was so nice sitting outside on such a lovely evening and enjoying an excellent meal.