Blog

Barcelona: Christmas number two

 

Christmas in January at the Nou Camp

 

Some places have got it right – why have one Christmas when you can have two? It’s weird writing about Christmas in February but then again it was weird enough experiencing it again in January.

After Christmas in Tuscany, we said goodbye to the animals in the rain and went by train to Pisa for some final sightseeing. Some places are empty when it rains – Pisa not so. We were the only fools there on bikes though and had to fight our way through umbrellas to take the obligatory photos. The rain got heavier, we set off on the 20km ride to Livorno, made it as far as Pisa train station before sacking it off and taking our second train of the day. Then after a horrific ride several kilometres out to the port on roads that were definitely not designed for bikes we pulled into the waiting area, got off the bikes and heard an English accent say the magic words – “alright girls, fancy a cuppa?” Wet and cold and with a couple of hours still to wait this was music to the ears. Bob was from 3 miles from where we live and was campervanning around Southern Europe for the winter. After a brew and some warm shelter, he sent us off with a massive handful of PG Tips bags and Sue Perkins’ book. Magic indeed.

 

A rainy Pisa

The ferry from Livorno to Barcelona goes on to Morocco, and the vehicles being loaded on were piled high with possessions cling-wrapped or tarped to their roofs. Most passengers were on for the full duration and were clearly seasoned ferry travellers. Gaps under the stairs had been turned into bedrooms and one guy even had an extension lead and electric kettle. We had the luxury of a cabin but eyed the electric kettle with jealousy. The weather meant a rough 20 hour crossing which was about 19 and a half hours too long for us.

 

Some serious luggage on the ferry

With a few days to explore Barcelona we ate tapas, wandered around the streets, toured Gaudi buildings and watched a football match at the Nou Camp. But the main event was Los Tres Reis – the three kings – Christmas number two. 6th January is when the Kings brought the gifts, so in Spain this is when many families exchange presents. On the 5th January the Kings come to the city on a boat and parade through the streets taking gift letters off the kids (giving a seriously short turnaround time) and handing out sweets at the end. We were told this was a popular parade in Barcelona and had expected a few floats and some crowds but we seriously underestimated the scale of this. Everyone in Barcelona was out on the streets waiting and like the prepared ferry goers, some of these kids were seasoned paraders. Parents had brought stepladders to give a better vantage point for the kids and they were armed with shopping bags to collect as many sweets as possible. The better prepared had the bigger reusable supermarket bags. All we had were our pockets but we were prepared to fight it out with the kids when it came to it. And it did – after half an hours worth of elaborate floats with some kind of story to it that we didn’t really understand but had an undercurrent of kids must go to sleep to get gifts, if not they get coal, sweets were shot out of huge spray guns at the end. We fought our corner and came out with a few handfuls, bowing down to the more experienced youngsters who somehow filled their bags while we caught a few. The worst thing for the kids is the next morning they got their gifts (or coal, who knows) but then go back to school the day after giving no time to play with the new toys. The following weekend there were many kids wobbling around the bike paths on new rollerblades and bikes.

 

Something about dummies

 

Something about letters

 

Something about stars

Another strange thing about Christmas in Barcelona is El Caganer – translated as the crapper. This is a Catalan nativity tradition of a figure with his pants down having a poo. Every nativity scene has one, every home, even the large public ones in the streets. You can buy a crapper figure of any famous person/character imaginable. This year there was talk of removing the crapper from public nativities, as authorities trying to stop people urinating in the street recognise the irony of having a crapper in public. Yet public power – including a song supporting the continued inclusion of the crapper – won and for another year at least he remains. Strange old country. But we had a great time.

 

The Crapper comes in many guises

Thanks to Sam and friends in Barcelona for helping us to experience all things Catalan!

Getting ready for a rest…

 

Nothing to see here. Just a sunday bike ride.

To make sure we arrived at our Christmas work-stay fresh, energetic and ready for labour we smashed out a few sightseeing days in Rome, exhausting ourselves walking for miles looking at awesome fancy old stuff. There is so much to see in Rome and I would highly recommend it for a city break, though probably don’t arrive by bike, there was a few crazy big roads until we could get on the Tiber route. If you do arrive by bike, make it a Sunday, as then you can ride right past the forum and up to the Colosseum traffic-free, except for pedestrians. Two of my favourite things were 2000 year old dice in the colosseum, just the same as modern ones, and a 2000 year old door that still opened and closed with fully functional lock and key in the Forum. The Romans were chuffing smart. There were loads of churches, artworks, ruins, musters of starlings and great Christmas lights. Total winner.

Life size nativity and rainbow baubles at St Peter’s

We had to cheat and get the train to Florence to be on time for our Christmas break, gaining an afternoon and evening to walk even further around the sights of Florence. This was aided by the best sandwich I have ever eaten. A few weeks later someone from Florence asked me what I liked about the city. They seemed slightly offended by my focusOn the sandwich. They really shouldn’t have been. Go try for yourself. Confident that it was a short ride out of Florence to our Tuscan Christmas residence we rode up an extra hill to Michaelangelo’s tomb and a great view of the city. It proved to be a good warm-up, the 35km ride was absolutely brutal, lots of very steep climbs and not so many twisty descents.

 

‘I think i can see the sandwich place from here’

We arrived at a hill top outside the village just as the sun was setting, and Tuscany did a great job of looking exactly like Tuscany should. Soft light, layers of steep hills, farms dotted around. It seemed our decision was a good one.

 

Tuscany: Does exactly what it says on the tin.

The family were lovely and we learned lots quickly about donkeys, dog treats, olive oils and (most importantly) food. This is no light matter.

“I do not trust an English woman to cook pasta. I will teach you once, and maybe once you will get it wrong. This is ok. A second time wrong, this is not ok”.

Ditto polenta.
As we were in charge of things for a week alone, we spent a lot of time with this motley crew…

The Donkeys

Judy (middle)

Likes: big fringes, apple pieces, suddenly diving into vines when walking

Sofia (left)

Likes: being pretty, a controlled hairstyle

 

Not sure what the donkey on the right is called.

 

Guarina

Likes: trying to get out, stealing food, being noisy.

 

Guarina checking out the exit routes

 

The Cats

Luna

Likes: Antagonising Vesper, tagging along with dog walks, cuddles with Jo, thieving the dog food. (Caught out one day by loud crunching).

Dislikes: the pink labelled cat food tin, the nativity scene, the hiding of the dog food bag.

 

Nap buddies

Vesper

Likes: James Bond, pretending Luna starts the crazy chases, cuddles with debs, sitting on the dining chairs right before dinner, the English Premier League.

Dislikes: Moving too much, the pink labelled tin, being tipped off the dining chairs so people can sit in them.

 

Come on the foxes

 

The Dogs

Phoenix

Likes: Collecting sticks, food, playing with sticks, doing her own thing, walking slowly, going in the truck, teasing Oliver with sticks.

Dislikes: Responding to commands in any language, walking quickly, walking far, being on a diet.

 

Phoenix probably going the wrong way

 

Oliver

Likes: Being super cute and friendly, long walks, escaping, cuddles, sticks.

Dislikes: Walking at Phoenix speed, smelling nice, the donkeys, the barking dog at Lucardo.

 

Such a cutie but so much trouble…

There are more Oliver stories for another time. The countryside was lovely and we ate lots of awesome food in between feeding the animals and walking the dogs. When the family returned there was more food (including a jabugo ham from Spain) and time for cycling – to San Gimignano and other pretty towns. We also enjoyed the village new year party.
Thanks to everyone in Tuscany who made our Christmas break fab, especially those at Fattoria Barberinuzzo.

What did we do in December again? Southern Italy

It’s time to catch up, so here are some facts to cover our trip from Bari to Rome…
– If you ride 80km NW from Bari, then get persuaded to go Matera (if an Italian host tells you you must visit somewhere back the way you came, you ride back the next day the way you came) you will pass a lot of signs for Bari with distressingly low distances. (25km?!)

 

Trani, up the coast from Bari, before we rode back down to Matera…
 
– Dogs are not so chilled here as Albania. It is scary when there are a pack of about 8 growling and chasing. One was possibly crossed with a polar bear.

– Old men sit around playing cards and drinking beer (am) or stand in the street chatting (pm).

– In Matera in December there is the World’s biggest Nativity. I am not sure how this is qualified, but this was actors and scenery spread out over a long and very scenic walk with many candles. 

– Matera has cave houses and an amazing gorge. It was used for the filming of ‘The Passion of the Christ.’ This does not translate well back from Italian so people mainly said ‘The Passion of Mel Gibson.’ I think this would be a very different film.

 

Matera. Nice place. Worth the detour.
 
– The motorway across the south of Italy is quite a work of engineering with huge bridges and tunnels. This is so cars can easily cross the mountain range. Bicycles are not allowed on this road, so go up and down the many hills. 

– Road signs here are very unreliable. We saw them in this order: POTENZA 85; POTENZA 95; POTENZA 87; POTENZA 49; POTENZA 63. This is quite disheartening when you are trying to ride a bike to Potenza. Up and down the aforementioned hills.

– Towns are built on the top of hills, and look like they might fall off at any time. This looks impressive, but may well have been designed to wear out cyclists. (Ok maybe for defensive purposes too, but this was probably secondary).

 

Hill top towns. nice for photos, not nice for the legs.
 
– If you camp at 700m+ in December there will be frost on your tent.

 

Packing up after camping in the frost. #not helpful
 
– The Amalfi Coast is exactly like it should be. Lovely. Great on a bike.

  
– December 8th is a public holiday in Italy. There will be fireworks.

 

Fireworks and christmas lights on the Amalfi coast…. you’re spoiling us
 
– The Napoli area is not pleasant for cycling, but like many aspects of this trip would make a good computer game; dodge the car doors/reversing cars/motorbikes/wing mirrors, ask the right local for directions, avoid the small streets that end in stairs, unlucky – your tyre went in a tram line, lose a continue and go back to Sorrento.

– Pompeii and Ercolano are very extensive. Walking around them is not a rest day. The details are the best bits, bar signs, shelves in the shops still there.

 

The ruined city of Ercolano
  
You had to beware of dogs in the South of Italy 2000 years ago as well… (Pompeii)
 – People in Pozzuoli are very friendly and the amphitheatre is well worth a visit. Some of the areas along the coast north of here were a little unsettling. We knew we had crossed a divide for the better when road cyclists started to outnumber by-the-hour hotels again.

– There are many Italian road cycling clubs in the area between Formia and Rome. It was great cycling along the coast with their encouragement and one day a great draft! We also enjoyed meeting the biciroma.it team in the centre of Rome, and still have the stickers to prove it!

 

Hanging out with some real cyclists for a change, south of Rome
 
Thanks to: Daniela and Nico; Princess Merida of Matera; Enzo and his dog; Lucio, Katia, Nico and friends; Alessandro, Elisa and the best Sengalese chef we have met; the many road cyclists of Rome who made our last weekend cycling so much fun!

A Day in the Life…

*if you only read one of our posts, make it this one. There’s no details of tourist attractions, but there are several meal times.
I am continually disappointed in our lack of ability to keep up to date with things whilst away. Laundry, planning ahead, sleep, blogging, everything except eating really. How is this possible you wonder, given that we are on ‘holiday?’ I often think the same, but I promise that our days are packed full of stuff. To illustrate this I will share an average 36 hours with you. At the end you may need a rest.


Day 1: 7am

Wake up in tent to sound of waves. Jo has slept well, I had cold thighs. (Very specific coldness, strange). Eat slightly stale baguette with jam on beach with lovely red sunrise. It is beautiful. Jo takes many photos. Pack up tent, eat biscuits. Faff around filling water bottles, talking to Dutch people, etc.


9:30am

Have pedalled several kms, Jo decides we must take the longer scenic route via a sticky-out bit of coast. Perform inappropriate u-turn on medium sized road. We are both hungry.

11am

Find supermarket and I shop for elevenses, lunch, afternoon tea, proper tea. Jo supervises bikes and worries about the route we are now on. There are hills.

11:30am

Beach snack stop, lovely. Jo takes photos.


12:00pm

Definitely hills. And swearing. And pro cyclists. Jo tries to take photos. We find only indiscreet places for number 1s but have to go anyway.

1:00pm

See a hardware shop, Jo goes in to buy meths for Trangia. I eat some 50% off spinach and cheese empanadas whilst reclining on one of the loungers for sale outside the shop. Good job I had got comfy as Jo later revealed her meths hunting tactic was to ‘look down every aisle.’ This place was huge. Good job the meths was near the start.


1:30pm

There are more hills. Jo takes photos.

2:30pm

Lunch on the sea front in a town beginning with M. Heading for Calpe, easy to see because it has a big rock. Pass more pro cyclists, and their trucks outside fancy hotels (that’s fancy hotels, not Danish holes, as autocorrect put in).


3:30pm

The Rock is very big. It becomes clear that because of the sticky-out bit we will not make Alicante today. Decide on Benidorm. Use a well known app to book a room in Benidorm for the same price as a campsite. Steal.

4:45pm

Try to catch pro team up in Altea. They keep getting tantalisingly closer when stopped by traffic lights, but then peel away when the light goes green. I am sprinting very hard. Jo later admits she was only at 92%. Have a snack by the sea and try to follow bike route. It ends.


6pm

Arrive on edge of Benidorm. Does it look familiar from university football tour? Not really. Visit sea and find accommodation. Turns out to be in gay quarter above bar (club opposite is called ‘brief encounter,’ lots of pics of men’s underwear in the windows). English Barman thinks we are mental. Carry bikes and bags up narrow stairs. This takes many trips. Store bikes on balcony. Wash selves and clothes. Research which cycling teams we saw today. Pointlessly tweet about this. Learn some more Spanish. Jo goes to nearby supermarket as directed by barman. Turns out to be not so close. Somehow she doesn’t get lost. We are both surprised. She buys only child cereal and milk. We are hungry.

8:30pm

Go for evening walk to sea. Return and cook pasta on balcony. Plan tomorrow’s route.

11pm

Sleep. Not much noise from bars.
Day 2

5:07am

The streets are cleaned in Benidorm. Back to sleep.

7:00am

The bins are emptied in Benidorm. It is raining

8:00am

Eat cereal served in glasses. Jo’s choice of coco pops. Enjoy boiling water in electric kettle. These are rare in Mediterranean Europe. Try to get excited about going out in the rain. ‘At least is isn’t cold’ ‘I’m going to wear my waterproof socks’ ‘the seats are wet from the balcony.’

9am

It is raining. Follow bike path along sea front. It ends. Join much larger road towards Alicante. The rain gets worse briefly. The shoulder is wide and the road smooth, but there is a headwind. Have I mentioned this already? We have had it since Barcelona. Yep, that’s over 500km now.


10:30am

A lorry cheerily toots at Jo (behind), and then at me, and I see what looks like a large quavers packet flying at me. Nice. Except it turns out to be a brand new hi-vis vest. Subtle hint. We put our own ones on, but keep the new one. It may be a useful swap in the future, in manner of early role-play computer game. (Meet local, give vest, get cheese, progress to next level?)

11:00am

The rain gets very heavy. We are at saturation point, even the goretex trousers feel like they might start letting water through, so we are very pleased to see a roadside bar. I get coffee and we order a sandwich to share. The barman thinks we are crazy. The ham is very good. He shows us photos of his road bike. It weighs about the same as my left rear pannier. He admires our bikes, and tries to pick mine up. ‘Forte!’ We discuss the bikes in limited Spanish. I have forgotten the word for steel which I learned yesterday. He tries a few bike frame materials and we agree on one that may or may not be steel.

12:30pm

I sing the Cure because it is Friday. We stop under a bridge on the shoulder of a slip road because we are suddenly on a road that doesn’t seem to be for bikes. (Lose all your spokes and return to the start of level 2). Jo takes a photo. We leave that road for a very slightly smaller one.

1:00pm

We are hungry. We find a supermarket on the outskirts of Alicante. I brave the ham cutting counter to get great ham. We have our second ham and cheese bocadillo of the day undercover in the supermarket car park. There is even a real toilet. The rain stops.


2:30pm.

Alicante is chuffing huge. The bike lanes are extensive but rubbish as they go up kerbs and have stop signs for driveways every 150m. We stick to the road, where there are roundabouts that are not really roundabouts. We are so nearly clear of the city and on a bike lane to Elx/Elche when we hit silt filled underpass that coats us and the bikes in mud. The wheels stick in the mudguards and our shoes sink as we drag the bikes through. We use our water bottles to squirt the worst off the moving parts. The bike lane is smooth after this though.

3:30pm

There are so many petrol stations in Spain, but none are on this road. We really need a jet wash. Eventually we find one and clean the bikes and ourselves. The cafe next door fill up our water bottles. We eat bananas.

 


4:30pm

Elx/Elche has a fine cathedral and fort thing. Lovely gardens too. Jo takes photos.


It also has endless industrial/retail areas that blur into the next town. It turns out Jo did not hear my rendition of Friday I’m in love earlier. I treat her to it now, and we sing Bon Jovi – Always and other favourites as we ride along the service roads.

6:00pm

The sun is setting and we are now riding slightly uphill into a headwind. We put the hi-vis vests back on.

7:00pm

We have visited a supermarket to get chocolate for our host this evening and find our way to meet him. An evening of lovely food and company awaits. We even stay awake for it all.
This is a tiring life, but we have a lot of fun. Lots happens every day. Was it clear that we cycled over 170km in the 36 hours above? It is brilliant having almost all your meals with awesome scenery. It’s great talking to people on the street that get really excited about our trip. Often we wish for more sleep. Always we wish for a safe road (and a tailwind). I wish for no saddle sores. We miss home sometimes, but an electric kettle just won’t have the same novelty there.

Potholes, petrol stations and pastries: Cycling fun in Albania

To say we had been a bit apprehensive about crossing into Albania would be an understatement. All cycling blogs about the country read the same: fast and reckless driving, busy roads in poor condition, litter everywhere, dog chases… Anyone that we mentioned our plans to cycle there to responded with the same worried look.

The first evening in Shkoder began with confusion and ended with a very large pizza. Firstly, it did not seem to be essential to go anti clockwise around roundabouts, for cars or bikes. If you need the last exit, just turn left, it will probably be ok. Additionally cyclists should not feel constrained by the standard procedure to ride on the right. Either side is fine. Next, the hostel we had booked was actually closed for a public holiday (low traffic volume now making more sense), we spoke to a trainee priest outside about cycling and went on a hunt for somewhere to sleep. We rode into the well-kept centre, noticeably cleaned up for the national holiday – there was lots of litter everywhere else. Albanians strolled around and we settled on a sports bar called Liverpool for a drink to aid our search. I’m not sure a woman has ever been in the Liverpool sports bar, Shkoder. Time stopped when I entered, even the keenest Bundesliga betters stared at the weird English girl. Or maybe it was the cycling kit. By the time Jo had locked the bikes I had ordered coffee, fizzy pop and we even had a table to go with the strange looks. Finding a hotel was just as easy and the pizza even had some vegetables on. At least 1 of our 5 a day anyway.

Great view, awesome tailwind
Great view, awesome tailwind

We found our way out of Shkoder via a great bread shop following a man who was carrying cement bags on the back of his bike. We even went the right way around the roundabout. It seemed Albania was still recovering from the holiday weekend excess as there was hardly any traffic and, for the first time this trip, a killer tailwind. We had ridden almost fifty miles by 1pm, and had managed a coffee stop, a picnic lunch and two rounds of lovely people giving us fruit we didn’t know the name of. One of these stops we had to stop them from filling a third carrier bag as we just didn’t have room to carry any more! The fruit is kaki, maybe called persimmon at home? In season and everywhere.

Share the road!
Share the road!

Our rapid progress was unsustainable – we had left the highway where it became a motorway (following a sign for Kosovo, not something you think will ever happen), and although the detour was initially on an ok road this did not last. Once we had passed the last car wash in the town the road really deteriorated. In Albania if there is no petrol station and/or car wash every 500m a road just isn’t worth travelling on. This road was on our map, and looked to be a reasonable one, it had a number. It also had a lake. There had been many potholes and puddles, but this the whole road and some of the land either side. Handily, and enterprising local had put stepping stones along one side. We stepped but the bikes had to wheel through, and.were very grubby by the end. First 80km – 4 hours, next 8km – nearly 2.

The road got a little bumpy...
The road got a little bumpy…
...and became a lake.
…and became a lake.

Finally we rejoined a sealed road and began the climb to Kruje, a town in the mountains with a castle that we would be staying in. It was a 600m climb and even though the wind had helped us earlier the last few kilometres of 110 were a struggle. Castles here (and in Croatia and Italy) are not one big building, more castle outer walls with several smaller buildings inside. The view was amazing and we visited the very single minded museum of Skanderbeg the next day. You name it, they had it. Portraits, busts, diaries, poems, photos of statues of him in other countries, places with streets named after him, books where he might be briefly mentioned (Albania travel guide in German). That wasn’t even the best thing though. We were the only visitors at the museum that early, or maybe that day, and we were outnumbered by the staff 4:1. One guy took our money, one lady had a feather duster (an actual one), one gardener, and one security guard – presumably for the crowds. What the other four could possibly have been doing is a total mystery. Admiring the view from the majestic balcony? Playing bows and arrows with the fine selection of cross bows in the upstairs corridor? #communism hangover.

It was a great descent through Kruje, where most people still seemed to be on holiday. Returning to the highway was not so pleasant as yesterday. We had swapped a tailwind for some real Albanian traffic. Fast, too close, and predominately knock-off Mercedes. The first few times you have an oncoming overtaking vehicle driving straight at you are a little disconcerting/absolutely terrifying, but they do seem to cut back in just in time. Mobile phone use whilst driving was at an all time high, even worse then Croatia. As we neared Tirana the road got busier and unhelpfully for one entering a capital city, much narrower, one small lane for driving, one for parking/selling stuff/waiting for a bus. This would later become a ‘cycle’ lane. We were surprised to find a cycle lane in Tirana, a city not known for it’s sustainable transport solutions (*coughs in smog*). Even better for the cyclist was the jaunty smiley face that the cycle logos on the road had been made into. Smile cyclists of Tirana! You are having a great time cycling dodging potholes, pedestrians, goats, cars, buses, opening car doors etc…

Sad to see lots of litter, many places with much more than this.
Sad to see lots of litter, many places with much more than this.

Just like everyone says, Tirana had some colourful buildings, and impressively (surprisingly?) a march for World AIDS day made up of young people. It also had enough takeaways to satisfy our sudden chip craving, a piece of the Berlin Wall (‘what’s that graffiti?’ Jo), a massive statue of Skanderbeg on a horse and a water fountain shaped like an Arabian tea pot. We enjoyed seeing the innovative way a huge pothole near the Department for Transport and Infrastructure had been repaired. A palette over the top and hazard tape around the edge. This must have been official procedure as we saw this several times by uncovered drains.

Getting out of Tirana was easier than getting in, and to celebrate we ate three cheese pastry things sitting on the kerb outside a great bakery. When the owners saw us sitting there, they asked us to come over and got chairs and a small side table for us from their house. When we asked if they had coffee, we were given theirs that had just been brought over by someone from the cafe next door in some sort of bread/coffee exchange. They would not accept any payment for the coffee and stood with us in the sunshine while we enjoyed the baked goods.

Our friend the baker.
Our friend the baker.

We didn’t get far before we saw a football match going on at a pro-looking mini stadium. It was an age group academy game and was a good standard. There was a lot of spectators and in jumbled Italian we established what the score was and ordered some drinks. We also spent a penny in the most surprising toilets of the trip. Imagine standard football women’s toilets. 5 sinks on one wall, 5 cubicles opposite. Now remove the cubicle partitions. Yep, team peeing here. Weird, especially as they were finished to a very high standard, probably the nicest toilets in Albania.

Whilst in Tirana we had received a message about a Christmas work-stay we had applied to. This meant that instead of going to Greece we were heading back to Italy for a Tuscan Christmas. Sadly we decided that there were not enough days to ride all through Albania before getting a ferry to Italy. Instead we re-routed to Durres and had another chip stop to commiserate. We also found a great Souvlaki and our first Christmas tree. We would never had anticipated being sad to leave Albania. It was really fun, helped by the friendly people and the great weather! Not a place to try to get around quickly though, or have a relaxing mini break.

You are probably thinking that we must have been so mentally scarred by the vicious dog chases to write about them. I guess the mean dogs must hibernate in winter, or move to Montenegro for the skiing. Dogs barely looked at us, let alone bark or chase. We had to cycle around one that was napping in the hard shoulder. Dogs of Albania, not scary.

Calm down!
Calm down!