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.

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!

Blown away by Montenegro

It’s a strange thing in Europe that even though the countries are relatively small, and share lengthy borders with others that have similar geography and history, in many you can see differences as soon as you cross a border. Sadly some of these were not so much fun for the cyclist as we entered Montenegro – narrower road, bumpy surface, too fast/too close traffic. Some of the roads looked to be under construction, but I’m not sure what stage of road building is deep sand and stones. On the plus side people started smiling and waving at us again. Which was lovely, until it became apparent that all Montenegrins are the owners of crazy dogs that chase cyclists. Stop waving and control your hound!   
Outside of the towns, the roads were quieter and the scenery around Kotor Bay and between Budva and Bar was stunning. The latter section would have been even more enjoyable without the torrential rain and a hurricane. Ok, maybe it wasn’t a hurricane, but Jo did get blown off her bike and we had to pedal really hard to achieve speeds of 5mph going downhill. Somehow I have missed out that at 9am in Kotor we had a (second) breakfast of pizza and some sort of meat burek from a very busy bakery. It was amazing, and Kotor’s stray dog population also thought so. They patiently followed us around the town, but sadly even for friendly dogs cyclists do not share food. In another food adventure, when we got to Bar we went into a bar to dry out a bit and warm up with a hot drink. There was a small hurdle in that even in our best Serbo-Croat attempts they could not offer a hot drink that wasn’t espresso or cappuccino. Tea was not understood at all and hot chocolate met with a puzzled look. Coffee for Jo, the coffee hater, with a lot of milk and five sugars. She didn’t like it.

  
  
A rainy rest day indoors in Bar helped us dry out and we enjoyed making a Friends inspired Shepherd’s Pie, not quite to the same recipe, playing board games and styling a butternut squash into a minion pumpkin.
Sunday is the best day for cycling wherever you are, and Albania was waiting for us. The first snow of the year had fallen on the highest mountains, making the scenery even better. The sun shone as we rode through small hamlets and a kind Montenegrin man who saw us picknicking near his house brought over some mandarins from his garden. There was a big queue at the border but a handy small lane for pedestrians and push bikes so we didn’t have to breathe traffic fumes for long. Jo accidentally went into a secure area looking for a toilet while we were waiting for our Albanian stamps. Handily none of the people with guns saw. The sun was also shining in Albania and for the first time in ages we saw other people cycling between the villages. People waved just as much as Montenegro and the crazy drivers we had been warned about must have been having a Sunday off as everyone passed us carefully in their black Mercedes. The only hazards were people walking their cows and groups (flocks, ganders?) of geese crossing the road. Surely this could not be the country of so many warnings? ‘Don’t go to Albania, the people are bad/traffic is crazy/roads are terrible/you will be eaten by dogs.’ Not so far…

It does rain in Croatia then (long post alert…)

 

Prancing around Zadar’s nicely displayed ruins

Zadar is famous for it’s sea organ, a stepped area on the sea with a mass of pipes underneath that make sea noises as the waves splash the stone steps. It really is a bizarre experience, and when the ferry goes past it makes more of a deafening boom than soothing sea tones. I went to see it whilst Debs experienced Croatian public healthcare. After reading an entire novel it was established that yes she would need to come back tomorrow to see an eye doctor. On the way home we spotted a cinema and having learned that films are shown in English, went back for a later viewing of Spectre. The second hospital visit was much faster than the first so we enjoyed an afternoon off in Zadar (I couldn’t keep the sea organ experience to myself). The town also has a number of Roman ruins, though interestingly they have not been left where they found but dug up and arranged in neat patterns in the centre square. It was pretty cool to be able to wander around chunks of old stuff and go up the bell tower to view it all from above. Peace was shattered temporarily with the Saturday ritual of Croatian Wedding Drivers coming in and out of the city, reminding us what day it was at least.

 

Krka National Park

From Zadar it was a 100km ride down the coast to Krka National Park, our substitute for not being able to detour inland over a huge mountain range to go to Plitvice Lakes, the most famous Croatian park. It’s hard to compromise sometimes, but you can’t possibly see everything in a country when travelling by bike – Krka has some very impressive waterfalls itself, we arrived at the park less than an hour before it closed and the falls were at the bottom of a long, hairpin descent. The ranger seemed to think it wouldn’t be a problem for us to ride down and back up again in time – he has clearly never ridden a loaded bike uphill. We zoomed down there in 5 mins, had a walk around the falls and then it took half an hour to get back up sweating like crazy, arriving back at the gate a respectable 25 mins after the park closed. So as usual we had a race against the daylight, which as usual we lost.

 

Losing the race against the sun

Next up was Split, Croatia’s second largest city that we were only visiting to catch a boat to our next island. On the way we called at Solin, the impressive ruins of a Roman town located next to a busy dual carriageway and industrial area of Split. Peaceful. We got in free for being cool bike travellers (maybe) and were then swamped by a group of school kids practicing their English. ‘My name is … ‘ is about as far as they have got with English but they knew how to repeat it again and again. At least they recognised the Union Jack – most kids seem to think we are American. C’mon kids, it’s a very different flag! Split itself challenged for the ugliest city award as we rode through miles and miles of busy, grubby suburbs – luckily it improved dramatically on reaching the historical area where the Diocletian Palace covers most of the centre, with lots of small cobbled streets which is probably fun if you are not pushing/riding a loaded bike. The next island on our agenda was Brac, producer of white stone used in many buildings including the White House itself. It’s one of the lesser visited islands but was probably our favourite – small towns that were not particularly touristy therefore still had life in them out of season, quiet roads that either hugged the coastline or took us up mountains for amazing views and very empty and peaceful in the middle.

 Back on the mainland, we were excited about getting to Dubrovnik – one of the few places we had in mind to definitely visit. Although there were several more ‘must-see’ islands on the way, as the forecast was for cloud and rain for a few days these were regrettably bypassed in favour of a city with more potential for rainy day activities. Next time, Korcula, Hvar and Mljet. It would also be the fist time we spent more than two nights in the same place in 8 weeks – much needed by this point. The ride into Dubrovnik was the most spectacular section of the coast road, unfortunately it hammered it down for most of the day. So instead of coastal scenery being the highlight, that day will be remembered for the 10km section of Bosnia (country #11) that the coast road goes through. But not for scenery, people or culture (though I’m sure these are all great when it isn’t chucking it down), but for food. Not wanting to pass through a new country without stopping, and starving and wanting a note for our map wall we took out the equivalent of about £7 from an ATM and went straight to a roadside bakery where £3.50 bought us a pile of pastries. We had become fond of the burek since discovering it in Croatia – a long thin pastry filled with either cheese or meat and rolled up – and the Bosnian one was our best yet. So we sheltered from the rain by a posh hotel where Japanese tourists ran into from their coach (not quite sure how they sold them ‘lunch in Bosnia’ as a highlight of the day, and in the rain it did not look it’s finest) and stuffed ourselves. Most cyclists on this route will ride in and out of Bosnia in about half an hour, we took almost two, most of which was spent eating. What’s not to like?

 

The ride to Dubrovnik and start of the rain

Finally we reached Dubrovnik, drenched and cold for the first time in weeks. The rain was like rivers on the road and threatened to wash us away at times. But the next morning we woke to sunshine so headed straight to the city walls. I love a good walled city and this is one of the finest out there as every corner of the wall offers an amazing panoramic view of the city and the sea. Being out of season tourists came in our favour as we practically had the walls to ourselves, after seeing pictures of how crowded they get in the summer this was very much appreciated. Although strangely one guy managed to get in all the photos Debs took for one five minute period – I had to commend him for such an achievement given the lack of people around. We ended up staying in Dubrovnik for 4 days, 3 of which it rained, and 2 of which we did very little (the only thing we scheduled for the last day was ‘take advantage of coffee and pancakes offer between 12-8pm’, suggesting to us that it was time to leave….) It’s a very ‘pleasing to the eye’ city, not wanting to be overrun by tourism none of the shops are allowed signs so they have the shop names inscribed on lanterns and on tabards which sets it apart from the rest of the country where you can’t move for adverts obscuring every view. It’s also amazing how the city has recovered from the heavy bombing it received during the Yugoslav war, it was quite sobering to visit some of the museums and learn more about a war that killed so many people yet was so recent I was in secondary school at the time. We sat and watched some BBC news footage from the time, captivated by images of buildings we had just walked around being shelled as well as the soothing tones of an English accent and full sentences we could understand.

 

Dubrovnik from above

We had high expectations of Croatia, and the scenery didn’t disappoint. Being there out of season was a little frustrating at times but also worked to our advantage with quiet beaches and cheap hotels (we didn’t sleep in the tent once, it just wasn’t worth the effort). The driving was a bit crazy and being on the phone whilst driving seems to be standard practice – we saw drivers watching videos on their phone. The people were perhaps the least friendly of all the countries we had been through (and have since) – not that they were unfriendly but there was not the warm welcome that we have experienced elsewhere. Interacting with people is difficult with the language barrier but usually we have some semblance of a conversation with local people several times a day, or at least a smile and a wave – in Croatia we were invisible. Probably so many people pass through on bikes in the summer that it is not of interest, and in the winter they just want their towns back for some peace and quiet before the season starts again. Understandable I guess!

Thanks to Frane #1 in Kastel Lucic and Frane #2 (and his family) in Pucisca for their hospitality, and the friendly guys at Extreme bike shop in Split for sorting us out with some essentials.