Settling in to a routine

 

Life on the road:

I’m on a pleasant camp site in Cantalejo between Aranda and Segovia. It”s 6pm and cool in the dappled shade with a gentle breeze, I’ve had 2 cups of tea and slugged down lots of water since arriving and now feel human again.

Today was hot. The road was long and straight and seemed to go on forever. The scenery has markedly changed from the verdant hills of Cantabria, the Basque country and even the northern part of the huge province of Castilla y Leon. I’m still in Castilla y Leon but things are now a more arid. My tent pegs could be pushed in with a soggy tissue today, the ground is very sandy and covered with Pine tree detritus, not to mention fag ends!

Not for the first time I’m the only tent on the site. There are wooden bungalows here but none seem to be occupied. There were a few people around but I think they were day visitors, it’s some sort of nature park with bikes for hire. (Addendum: It’s a centre for outdoor activities for the Rio Duraton National Park, mainly Kayaking on the river further north).

My supply of Meths for my Trangia ‘may’ last tonight but I’ll need to find some tomorrow. I’m sure

my perfect pronunciation of ‘Alcohol de Quemar’ will bring instant results very much in the way that I’ve been understood immediately every time I’ve stopped someone for directions or asked for a Panaderia or Fuente! They look at me as though I came in from the planet Mars but in the end say exactly the word I’ve been saying and point me in the right direction. I guess the locals don’t speak Spanish as well as me!

I have to say, the locals everywhere have been incredibly friendly, they actually look pleased that I stopped to ask them something. Several times I’ve had a friendly squeeze of my arm as I depart, how often does that happen in the UK?

Anyway, about my wind problem!

I had a run of 3 or 4 days when after slogging uphill for most of the day I’ve had a big descent in the afternoon, usually dropping down to a town for the night. As I’m travelling generally south all the time I’m finding that the afternoon sun on the southern slopes of the hill is creating an Anabatic wind so strong that unless the descent is steep, I’ve had to pedal downhill as well! I suppose that’s something I’ll have to get used to as most of my journey will be due south.

I fitted a handle-bar mounted compass just before I came away and it’s a great bit of kit.

It’s got me through major towns and confusing villages, I just glance down and if the North arrow is pointing towards me, I’m heading south and all is well.

I’d mentioned in a previous post the Spanish couple camped opposite me at my camp in Trespaderne, the first stopping off point after Bilbao.  As is becoming a pattern, I was the only tent on the site, it was very quiet and as I requested a plot near the ‘servicios’  – not because I have a weak bladder, although I do, but so that I don’t have to resort to either going for a pee on my bike (not ‘on’ my bike) or having to resort to the walking stick.  I’d been sandwiched between 2 unoccupied bungalows with no one else in site which  suited me fine.  Little did I realise that my peace was about to be shattered by Spain’s noisiest couple.

 

Incidentally I’d been offered the use of the veranda of the adjacent bungalows along with a table and chair which I found all a bit too decadent but accepted the use of a plastic chair, luxury!

The couple arrived and unlocked their in-situ touring caravan.  They set about attaching a huge awning to the caravan with a constant dialogue at such an amplitude that my eardrums hurt.  They both seemed incapable of communicating with anything other than ardent shouting, even when they were stood next to each other.

He was a stocky man, considerably over nourished with a deep manly voice, she was much larger and had a deeper voice.  Eventually they finished the erection of the awning, I was relieved that their work was done and hoped I may get some peace.

Peace? They’d barely started.  Out of the caravan came another large bag which turned out to be an extra tent (seen in the picture above) – the cacophony continued unabated.  Out came a chest of drawers and then a sink unit for the extension tent.  Next a full sized fridge!  The volume never lessened, in a normal relationship either one of these characters would be by far the dominant partner but I couldn’t choose between them.  I wouldn’t want to tangle with either!  Once the extension was complete, out came the ground sheets.  All around the caravan and extension they fitted plastic sheeting to isolate them totally from nature.  The chap disappeared for a while but then his head popped up at the back of the caravan followed by the biggest aerial array I’ve ever seen.

Finally, their job was complete and they sat outside the awning watching TV which was inside the awning and so very loud.  They cracked open a bottle of wine and sat half watching TV but still shouting at each other.

Good on them.