The usual morning routine saw us on the road at about 8.30, having decided to push through to Helen’s sister’s place on the outskirts of Barcelona we knew it was going to be a long, hard day. It didn’t disappoint.
From Campdevànol the road continued gently down following the river El Freser. The first tunnel we came to was a bit of a surprise, but thankfully 500m wasn’t long enough to warrant banning cyclists. We put our lights on to make sure we were seen and headed through. It was cool and smelt of rock and fumes, not dissimilar to the London underground. Emerging into the light I was relieved to discover it was still in Spain!
Through another couple of tunnels then the roadworks began. Massive road widening projects which turn out to be part of a huge public works scheme designed to tackle Spain’s 17% unemployment. Whatever the reasons it didn’t make for pleasant cycling as the dust, lorries and noise all demanded constant attention. When we were diverted off the main road through Torelló it was even worse, as there was less room for the traffic to overtake us and we had to frequently stop to let it roll by. This prompted a rapid change of route plans, through not really off course, just missing some nice looking villages where we had hoped to find second breakfast.
On towards Vic, whose old centre looked interesting, but it was too early for lunch and with a long way to go we headed on. Via a series of unmarked backroads we we’re able to connect with the Tona without any detour or climbing. Here we fond a pizza place for lunch where we were able to watch the bustle of the town. Suitably stuffed we had a siesta in the park opposite, well, we were in Spain after all.
From Tona we left the main road and climbed up into the Serra de Granera, a range of rolling hills which stood between us and Barcelona. Saving climbs till after lunch seems to have become one of our specialities, here we were again sweating up 860m. The pizza kicked back before kicking in, but once up we were able to enjoy a fast descent into Molà which like all others immediately banished all memories of the preceding climb.
What followed was a long hour of hot grinds uphill into the wind, broken only by depressingly short descents. We still had a long way to go and it seemed we were making very slow progress. Morale was low. It was only when we got to St Feliu de Codines were we able to find a bench in the shade and fuel up on bread and honey. Whether we were missing them or they just weren’t there Spain seemed to fare badly with comparison to France on the quality of it’s picnic spots, something I’ll be writing to the government about.
A fantastic 6km descent into Caldes de Montbui saw spirits rise, only to be dashed as we got embroiled in it’s maze of one way systems. Even google maps failed us (or rather I failed it) as we made our first wrong turn of the trip. Tempers flared in the heat and our first argument loomed, thankfully averted by finding the road out and another steep climb on which to vent steam.
As Gina and Neil live to the north west of Barcelona we had to cut across, travelling south west across the spurs of the mountains to the north. This meant numerous up and downs while trying to navigate a way through the suburbs and traffic. There were some beautiful sections, but there were also some hideous bits too. At one point the clouds suddenly built up and we thought we were going to get a soaking, this actually raised a smile as we thought it typically ‘Scottish’ for it to rain on us as we clocked up 1500kms.
The best that can be said of this last leg was the amazing graffiti that lined the walls of the industrial corridor we pedalled through. The rest of it was stinking lorries, warehouses, factories and the sprawling mass of motorway and railway intersections. On bikes we felt exposed and vulnerable and were glad to have lights to help us be seen even though it wasn’t dark.
At last though we saw signs to St Andreu de la Barca, crossing the river all we had to do was find their flat. The address was in my the Blackberry, which having got us to the area the battery promptly died. I knew how it felt, I felt spent and lay on the pavement while Helen called in for directions. Rather and go into detail Neil cycled out to guide us in the last section and within 10 minutes we were stashing the bikes on the balcony and enjoying a large glass of beer. We had made it! Almost…
Looking at the map it’s not quite over – where Gina and Neil live it’s another 30kms into the centre of Barca. To complete the route we’ll do this last section this afternoon then hopefully meet Gina after work before getting the train back to the flat. This will hopefully will make for a more fitting end to what has been a truly amazing journey.