Coste Norte: Más Fotos

Trippy statues in Santander... These were everywhere; not sure what theme they were going for there.

Parque de la Magdeleina is the highlight of Santander as it juts out on a 66 acre peninsula complete with a small zoo and mansion now used for state ceremonies.

Several river crossings are much easier to take a ferry as the nearest bridge is way inland. Lugging my heavy bike onboard the bobbing boat (no ramps) is often very difficult and definitely a laugh for the other passengers.

Safely onboard...

Crossing from the city of Portugualete to Bilbao was the craziest bridge/ferry I've ever seen! This gondola type thing gets loaded with cars and people and zips across, still allowing large ships to pass through. It makes a cross about every 5 minutes and cost 1.5 euros with my bike!

The Guggenheim in Bilbao... Every hostel and affordable lodging in town was full so at the end of a 70 mile ride, I had to take the train another 30 minutes outside town and then ride to the nearest campground. Never made it back to the city after that long day...

Leaving the outskirts of Bilbao, I decided to cut cross inland rather than follow the coast. I didn't realize there's a huge mountain range with a maze of country roads that would mark my route.

Hours of climbing and getting quasi-lost...

My route above... You can see around mile 22 I missed the shortcut which would've gone around a 1,200 foot elevation gain.... 

Still a beautiful ride though completely exhausting ride. The same holiday completely filled the town I hoped to stay in that night, forcing me to ride anther several miles at the end of an excruciatingly long and difficult day.... All part of the fun!

Costa Norte

I'm way behind on the blog and feeling a bit lazy about doing my typical long winded write-up so I'm jut going to post some photos to bring it up to current (almost).

After Luarca, I continued along the coast with a quick detour to Cudillero, another picturesque port town. Lots of tourist eating on one of the many cafés.

And it was market day so there were all kinds of interesting things on offer.

Another further detour brought me to the lookout Espiritu de Santo where you could see the rugged coast line for miles each way...

"Camping" on the Spanish coast is very different than camping as I'm used to it. No solitude at all and time-share like mobile homes filled with overweight, beer drinking weekend warriors. Felt more like a trailer parking than camping...

Santander was a pretty cool coastal city you don't hear too much about. This dude below took his idea of camping a little too far...

When you get outside the city, it doesn't take long to be back in cow country...

Chilling in the woods that bordered one of the beaches I camped at. Traveling solo you get pretty shameless with the 10 second timer mode on the camera...

This part of Europe has major tidal swings. What is a port at noon, is totally dry at sunset...

Surf, Finally!

Until today, it had been a little over six weeks since I last surfed. Between new towns, new foods, new friends and long days on the bike, it had taken a back seat, somewhere in the back of mind I knew I could always come back to it... That was until two days ago when I arrived at one of Spain's best breaks hoping to rent a board and enjoy the waves peeling off its sandy river mouth but could not find a place offering surfboards. And then it hit me, completely lost without my first passion, thousands of miles from my beloved Scripps Pier and Blacks Beach, watching waves roll in without me. I felt homesick for the first time since I stepped onto my foreign-bound plane in April.

Though in need of a rest day, I decided to make a big push to Santander, the nearest major coastal city, certain there would be someplace with a board to ride whatever quality of surf might be on offer. But fortune has a way of giving to those who want something most. After a long day in the saddle, I rounded one last bend before I knew I needed to find somewhere to camp and saw a beautiful bay below, with a church perched atop a large island in the middle.

Riding into town, trendy cafés and bustling bars lined the main drag and I decided this would be my rest-day spot, surf or not (65 miles on the bike had clouded my memory that I was dying for waves. At that point I was mostly dying for food and place to sleep). 

But fortune was on my side. The tourist office directed me to a beachfront campground across the harbor and the first thing I noticed was a surf shop renting real fiberglass boards! Despite being dog tired, I literally set my bike in the campground and ran to the shop as they were closing.

Surf!

Ready to crack it early the next morning, it was windy and rainy all night and when I awoke the waves were pretty poor despite the promising forecast. That feeling I've known too many times, of high hopes leading to meager surf! Ah, to be a surfer again! 

No amount of wind, rain or gutless surf could've wiped the grin off my face as I trudged into the cold water... Bliss!

Two Days in Galicia

Galicia is a state in northern Spain blessed with a stunning coastline of small port towns, river mouths and rocky shores. Ribadeo is one such town where the Eo River flows into the Atlantic and where I found myself back in the smell of salt air. A small but happening, tourist town, Robadeo has a light house at he end of the road that was well worth the extra ride to check out.

 

Avoiding albergues at all cost, I was cruising around the coastal backroads and found one the most amazing places you could imagine to set a tent for the night. Completely alone, I parked out on the farthest bluff I could find in between two small coves.

Ya, that'll work...

A strong wind woke me in the middle of the night and I briefly considered moving from such an exposed position but thought better of it. I was glad I didn't when the wind woke me again at sunrise...

Up early, I planned for a long ride and stopped in Luarca after a few hours, a port town seemingly set straight out of a movie, with a narrow entry opening to a wider bay and surrounded on three sides by steep hills lined with colonial buildings.

View at lunch...

After a meal, I went for a quick swim and as soon as I got out, it started dumping rain. I sat pathetically on the beach with my most important stuff under an umbrella for an hour waiting for the squall to pass. I made it town before it started again and this time I found relief under the awning of a closed restaurant. With a break in the downpour, I rode out of town and got about a mile before common sense kicked in and I turned around and checked into the Pension Moderna, a completely unmodern hotel with shared bathrooms. Glad I did when it started raining in sheets the rest of the day.

Above, on the break wall before the rain started. That the town's church and cemetery on the bluff in the background.

Excited for the road ahead!

PS I'm about a week behind on the blog... It's hard to find energy (and wifi) after riding all day.. Even a 35 mile ride takes a long time when you're loaded with gear going up and down hills

Robadeo -> Luarca -> 35 miles

Back to the Coast

After a rest day in Santiago I was ready to head back on the road towards Spain's north coast. Forests, agricultural and empty country roads comprised the rolling hills north of the city all the way to the coast. I spent my first night in Sobrado dos Monxes, where a large and still active monastery dominates the skyline over the town of 300 people.

The monastery as you come into town and up close...

It seemed like Sobrado was a one-road town but after only three hours of sleep in the albergue due to some heyness snoring, I managed to mess up the exit. A few miles into the ride, I realized my mistake but instead of riding back up a big hill to town, I took a "shortcut" a local directed me on. Narrow roads and not a single car for the next eight miles got me back on route.

Yup, I was lost...

Back on the trail again I beelined it straight ahead till I arrived in a big town that shouldn't have been on my route. Overhearing me ask a grocery store clerk where we were, two very helpful Brits sent me on yet another "shortcut" that eventually got me where I needed to go. Thanks ladies!

It was a needlessly long day and I eventually made it to Abadín where I set my tent up in this park to get away from the snorers! You can barely see my tent against the tree line in the background...

One of my shortcuts...

Finally, the next day I made it to the coast without any further mishaps, determined to pay better attention to road signs!

I'll be trading country roads like this one for the coast... And hopefully some surfing!

Santiago -> Sobrado dos Monxes -> 35 miles

Sobrado dos Monxes -> Abadín -> 58 miles

Abadín -> Ribadeo -> 35 miles

Arriving in Santiago de Compostela

There is a tangible energy in the air when you walk up the tiny zig-zagging street towards the Cathedral. Other pilgrams surrounding you; equally wide-eyed, equally buzzing. Tourists walk to and fro, diners looking on from their street-side cafe tables. Perhaps it is the energy of the footsteps that have followed this same path for centuries, maybe the spirit of Saint James. I don't know, but I was overwhelmed by it walking into the huge plaza in front the church, which towers above.

People from many walks of life make their way in, most immediately taking off their shoes and laying down. Many hug and cheer, some were crying. Being that I was alone, I had to nobody to cheer with but as I lay against a wall watching, I felt I shared a small part of everyone's happiness.

Below, this short-shorted dude rode from Germany carrying his dog a in a trailer..

And this couple arrived on a tandem bike...

After hanging around for a couple hours, I made my way to the albergue, Seminario Menor, which was a huge, old monastery across town.

I got a private room for 15 euros where the mattress more closely resembled a high school wrestling mat than a bed. But still much better than the common sleeping areas, which housed upwards of 50 people in a single room!

The city itself is amazing and besides the cathedral there are many other beautiful churches, great restaurants, and cool people. But with the Cathedral looking so grand, it really stole the show.

I ended up at the pilgrim's office and showed my passport to prove I had made the journey and was awarded my "compostela" making me a credentialed pilgrim!

But for me, this is only the beginning of a much longer pilgrimage! Still an incredible place and an experience I will never forget!

Rain or Shine

I woke up in Vigo to pouring rain and took my time getting ready to set out, hoping it would stop. It did, until five minutes into my journey. Sheets of rain made the yellow arrows pointing the way impossible to find and soon, I was lost. Employing my strategy of keeping he coast on my left, I eventually found the bay after several big climbs over a few hills.

Board shorts, rain jacket and waterproof backpack cover... Ready as ever!

Just outside Vigo, a beautiful island with a colonial mansion and arched bridge shown through the rain and fog, a larger suspension bridge behind it spanning over the bay.

The rain was still falling when I came upon "Jordy" from Barcelona, a 14 time pilgrim and interesting guy. I rode slow next to him trading stories, him how he met his wife while walking the Camino and I how my trip came about. We parted ways and a few rainy hours later I arrived I Caldas de Reis, calling it a short day just as the rain let up.

A church at the edge of Caldas de Reis.

Intersected by several creeks, the town is the largest around and offered a private albergue where I only shared a room with 6 people.

The albergue, quite different than the last one...

The town also had some locally brewed cider which was a great relief from the bland beer found here!

The next morning when I got up I noticed a black and purple Saint Augustine cap hangin from the bed next to mine. Surprisingly, one of the dudes sharing my room was also a San Diego native. It ws quite cool to talk about home on the morning I was due to arrive in Santiago!

Vigo -> Redondela -> Pontevedra -> Caldas de Reis -> 35 miles

And Already into Spain

Crossing the border into Spain was a pretty uneventful affair. So much so that I missed taking of a photo of the sign letting me know I was now in another country. I had planed to take the ferry from Camiña on the Portugeuese side to Guarda in Spain but it seemed to be out of service for the summer. With no other option, I followed the banks of the Río Miño up the nearest bridge, adding an extra 17 miles to my day.

On the Spanish side it was a several mile uphill stretch along the shoulder of a highway...

Crossing over the bridge into Spain I chatted with a cycling surfer headed the opposite direction. Man, was I jealous! Check out his set-up below!

North of Guarda, the coast becomes absolutely stunning with hidden, rocky bays, pine trees falling down to the shoreline and quaint coastal turns unaccustomed to tourism.

One such town above... Can't even remember it's name as it wasn't on my map.

After cycling far too long, I came upon the picturesque town of Oía where I stopped for lunch. A shallow cove housed several small fishing boats while a medieval church sat silenty above.

Table with a view at lunch...

Helmet hair...

Leaving Oía and peddling on alone and in silence was pure bliss.

Another unnamed cove above and an old church below...

Up ahead was the plush beach resort town of Baiona. On the point right before entering the city was a large castle and grounds that appear to have been turned into a five-star hotel.

Below, looking into the bay...

Offshore islands made this look more like a scene from Pirates of the Caribean than real life!

Entering the grounds...

Another shot of the huge bay...

Ignoring my intuition to stay the night in Bainoa, I pushed on toward Vigo and an hour later was lost on a busy highway. Completely exhausted, I pulled into Vigo and with help from the tourist I managed to find a beer and a bed...

Viana do Costela -> Ancora -> Camiña -> Guarda -> Oía -> Baiona -> Nigran -> Vigo -> 70 miles