The push back to the campsite

April 11, D day (again!!). Collected bike and were off, ~ 3 km out bike died  - damn us for being so fucking sexy, the gods of Zaragoza quite obviously don't want us to leave, noooooo.................  On inspection seems mechanics overfilled the oil (not good!).  Loads of shit in it when drained (even worse!). Seanie’s fear is engine is fucked. Rang The Oracle (i.e. my Dad) for advice which was, after much discussion, 'go back to the shop'.  Only 1 km from the bloody campsite we were so happy to leave yesterday, so back there again, gggrrooaannnn. Back to dealers, took some time to convince them to come look and when eventually the mechanic agreed, his ‘professional’ opinion was that there wasn’t a problem whilst going on to explain they’d reused old oil (ABSOLUTE never).  ‘Mechanic’ buggered off – apparently handing them a working bike with a minor oil leak and getting back a bike that no longer runs isn’t a problem in these guy’s world.  A mathematical equation for you:

Main Suzuki dealers in Zaragoza = Absolute Cowboys.   

Cakes with Style!!

Really stuck about next move so walked to the supermarket, on return sporty BMW pulled up and asked if we had a problem, a bit confused we said no, so Oscar explained he saw us walking in bike gear and thought we might be in trouble.  Obviously a biker, turns out he’d been all over Europe and to Northern Africa.  Asked if we needed a mechanic (psychic or what?) and gave us the details of the one he always uses and also his number in case we needed help.  Really really lifted our spirits - starting to feel like groundhog day, 8 days in Zaragoza, loads spent, and no closer to getting out of the god damn place. (Top tip from The Oracle: never say no when someone asks if you have a problem!)

The 'walk' to Motos Ara

Next day Seanie did complete over-hall on bike, however no joy.  Spoke with the campsite maintenance men to ask if they would use the site van to take the bike to the mechanic 4km away, offering to pay.  Very nice and were agreeable, however the boss said no.  Rang Oscar but he didn’t know anyone with a van – turns out recovery is automatically part of your insurance in Spain, damn and blast those organised Spaniards!  With no other choice pushed the bike the 4km to Motos Ara on Calle Arias, thankfully didn’t rain and there was no uphill bits – great workout, better than any gym!  Explained to the mechanic what we thought problem was, he said it couldn’t be fixed in Zaragoza, explained that the bike was considered an antique - by pointing to the word in the dictionary –bloody cheek!!  However he asked Sean to start her and poked, prodded and rev’ed the nuts off her – all of a sudden the engine tone changed and the squeak disappeared, the tappits also sounded a million miles better.  He continued to investigate (really knew his stuff) and opened a fuel line, the petrol came out black, whatever was blocking the oil had obviously been solved by Seanie’s work and blown through by the mechanic’s tinkering, but turns out the fuel was also dirty so probably compounding the problem – looks like all might not be lost after all.   Sean took the bike for a test and all was good.  HOWEVER as we thought she’d be in the shop I didn’t have a helmet SO I had a healthy 4km yomp back to the campsite whilst Seanie simply whizzed past – may the flees of a thousand camels infest him!!!  Fingers crossed we can finally get the fuck out of Dodge to see new bit of spain tomorrow.

Finally left Zaragoza, nearly suffered hyperventilation from holding our breaths until we were well beyond the city, and campsite!  The scenery was fucking stunning, but one of the coldest days we’ve ridden through since the trip started. We were constantly pelted by hail, hard enough to hurt you through the bike gear wherever it hit.  What is the story with the cow signs in Spain?  They are bloody everywhere but to date we’ve rarely seen a cow.  Even on the top of the peaks in Andorra were the snow was countless feet deep, there were ‘Caution Cow’ signs – the hardiest fucking goats couldn’t survive up there, let alone cows???  

'Candlewax' house

Stopped for petrol in the middle of nowhere and the heavens opened, it pissed down, so hard the rain was bouncing off the ground.  The old guy doing the pump service looked at us like we were fucking nuts, perhaps he’s right.  Happened upon a tiny place in the middle of nowhere with this astounding house built into the rock face which looked like it had been made of melted wax.  It was for sale – who’d buy it, what would you use it for – why was it ever built? It was spectacular and had a waterfall at the side of it, and just plonked in the arsehole of nowhere, incredible. 

I’ve been having an on-going conversation with my girl for some weeks now, she has not once voiced an interest in what we’re riding through so I think it’s only reasonable that she does the navigating, however I have yet to manage to convince her of this – it’s difficult to have a debate with a bike, the conversation is kind of one-sided, despite this I will persevere, maybe the promise of really nice oil will make her more agreeable to the idea, we’ll see. 

Reached Madrid in the evening , was our nine year anniversary so had planned a treat of a cheap hotel.  Sean found an Formula1 20km out so headed for it. An hour of insane traffic took us to where the hotel no longer existed – deep breaths! Was late and were knackered so found ACIS campsite nearby, thought ‘great, will be cheap ‘ hah, €36 - we stayed in a fantastic hotel four nights before with marble floors and en suite for €32!  Campsites in Spain have lost perspective on the service they are offering when nice hotel rooms are cheaper.  However, the good thing about the site was the family of cats, who once they’d twigged we were cooking meat proceeded to stake us out in the most ingenious of ways for the next two hours - they tried a variety of tactics that the army could probably learn from, and they kept us amused for the rest of the evening.

The 'tame' version????

'Wild' campsite

Next morning took an age to get out of the clutches of the city.  Some of the countryside smells are astounding, but sometimes in the shockingly bad sense – they actually took your breath away – kept opening the visor in the hope they’d blow away quicker.  Passed through a town around dinner time and the smells made my stomach start to complain loudly that all it had been fed was the odd butter biscuit - a fact it seemed unhappy with despite never complaining when in the process of consuming said biscuit.  Looking for a camp spot we saw a river in the distance and so followed the road and took a track off - which turned out to be someone’s garden, why are people so unreasonable as to build their houses in perfectly lovely places? Finally found another track under the road bridge onto scrub land and one of the nicest spots we’ve found to-date.  Stunning evening, the skies were superb and the swallows were in their dozens, a little later to be replaced, to our delight, by bats – pretty much a perfect evening to be fair and weather was much warmer and calmer than it had been for the last two weeks. 

Freaks or Unique?

Following day went through some fantastic mountains.  In the middle of them stopped at an amazing park area with a stream and old bridge to have a ‘snackette’ and decided to stay for the night, GORGEOUS evening.  Retreated to the tent and comfort of new airbeds and just settled when heard a car pull off on to the track beside us and slow down, we were thinking fuck it and were preparing the excuse ‘problema con moto’ – we had broken the two track rule and though the route was fairly out of the way, we could be seen from the road (stupid mistake). However after doing full circle the car took off again.  Fingers crossed for a company free night.

The freezing night and morning work us early, tent covered in ice again.  When packing saw a group of King Fishers so went over to take a photo, next thing the Guarda Civil pull up.  A pick-up truck had pulled up early and circled us so we reckon ‘twas the same vehicle from last night and that they reported us. The cops were really really nice, some might even say ‘civil’…. They asked for all our docs and took all our details. I explained that we looked but there were no signs to say camping was not allowed.  They very patiently (given my atrocious Spanish) explained that wild camping was prohibited in Spain, they were very polite and friendly.  We apologised saying we didn’t know (!!!!!!), holding our breaths for the several hundred euro fine.  However they seemed happy that we understood and were leaving so they took off and we got on our way breathing a HUGE sign of relief.  That afternoon we passed a very wobbly overweight old man on an ancient bicycle with an overweight old brown dog in the metal basket in the front – one of those moments you wish you could catch on camera.  Hit Portugal and had to ride two more hours (EVERYWHERE marked ‘privido) before finding a forest were we were careful to stay hidden.

Next morning was having a wash when heard Sean said ‘fuck we’ve been spotted’ (he’d been rev’ing the bike working on her - we're good at being discreet!) and obviously was heard as a guy drove up in a van, spotted Sean and tent and practically ran back to his van and off in a flash.  Of course I was completely starkers and nearly killed myself trying to get dressed, we got the tent  down and packed like lightening, lost my sun glasses in the rush but better €5than a fine of €400 or more!  Pulled the bikes out of the scrub onto the dirt track, sweat streaming down the two of us.  Sean asked if we should push them to the road or ride and my response was ‘get on the fucking bike and ride’, so we shot out of there like lunatics, onto the main road and off.  Rode for about 20 mins before stopping to get our breaths back

Happened upon a tiny town that had a Suzuki dealer and, via English, Spanish, Portaguese, French (via a near 90 year old man) signing, writing, the computer and phone ,we got some bits for Seanie’s girl. Saw the biggest dog ever – actually thought it was a painting until up close and it moved in the garden, cross a great dane with a st Bernard and you’ll get the idea.   Decided to stop in Sine campsite for the night as no wild camping sites.  

A few of my favourite things!

Sines

Following morning felt quite rough though as streaming head cold and Seanie also not feeling 100% so decided to stay another night.  Fed the site’s herd of cats more chorizo (they’d had some last night too), they’re getting to like our company strangely – go figure. Watched a very stupid young swallow chick who couldn’t figure out how to fly out the door of the loos - despite repeated demo’s by the parents he couldn’t get the concept and tweeted incessantly.  Took a jaunt into Sines, very pretty place putting loads of investment into building the place into a tourist area.  Faces of the older men very worn and hardened, seems like it’s a hard life here. Passed some brilliant graffiti, one lot said WINE with a bunch of names beside it, oddly one of those being Logan – swear it wasn’t me what done it!   About 5 metres down there was another that said WINE and had cats – all I could think of was the song line 'these are a few of my favourite things'.   On the ‘Stop’ sign at the end of the campsite dirt road someone had written ‘never’ and ‘loving’ around the word stop.  More chorizo for the cats, all 6 of them appeared to enjoy it very much, though typically selfish there wasn’t a meow of thanks from even one of them. 

It was as gorgeous as it looks

Took off in glorious sunshire on 20^th and went over a substantial bridge over a green river into the sea with a wonderful view of the coast and a white town settled in the hill side.  Scenery really changed today from being farming land to lots of woodland.  Passed through some wonderful smells of flowers, very strong but don’t know what they were. Stopped at a supermarket and cashier had perfect English, made me grateful but equally ashamed that I was in her country and could say no more than hello and thank you.  After LONG day got to Faro - went to a ‘site’, turned out they didn’t cater for tents.  On past Faro to Olhao and got a wonderful site there.  

'Dodgy' products

Sean already up, his airbed had deflated overnight.  However, despite this let down ………..(pause for the groan) he was, full of beans as had got speaking with a biker who lives on site.  Jimmy told him to go to Moto Club Faro, say Irish Jimmy sent us.  Headed off but club closed,  did some shopping and went back but still closed, headed for Suzuki dealer outside Faro, closed, found Moto Malta ……….. you guessed it. Sean changed gasket as had started to leak again, seriously, the Zaragoza dealers were a bunch of useless wankers.  He then went for a walk and his ankle give out, ripped his combats and took fairly huge chunk out of his knee!!  However we had some good luck bats this evening so optimistic tomorrow will be better – eyes crossed!

Next evening went to TV room (oh the luxury!) and watched history channel. There was an English guy in there watching it too – we had a running commentary between us whilst watching a documentary on desk masks of famous people in history.  Turns out Mike will be 70 this year and is meandering around Europe and possibly India on a bicycle.  Very interesting guy who’d studied lots of things in his time and it was really nice to have a proper conversation with someone after being on the road for 6 weeks with no one to entertain but ourselves. 

Location of 'mean' texting!

New front tyre on my girl this morning but they couldn’t do the repairs on Seanie’s girl so rode around several other dealers looking for someone who’d help; correction, Seanie rode, I squirmed - fuck me, the handle bars and arse end of my girl were all over the place for the first 20 miles until the new tyre got somewhat scrubbed in – was akin to the sensation you get when you try to ride the bicycle on pebbles – but a little more disconcerting on a motorbike at 55mph.  Finally after trawling through several dealers got the name of a guy who specialises in old bikes.  As our luck was holding out, a few miles out I ran out of petrol (no fuel gauge and speedo stopped working in Spain!).  However, the gods of Portugal seem to like us as got petrol nearby AND managed to change the last of the sterling we had which had proved impossible in Spain.  Got to LeoMotos in Albufeiras and thankfully one of the mechanics spoke English, explained the problem and were told to come back in 3 hours.  Headed to town and OMG, the place was plastic tourist world - wall to wall apartments for miles and bars, cafes, restaurants, clubs and tacky shops - amazing.  I was very mean and sent Tamzin a text explaining the 'stressful' situation we were currently enduring as we sat on a fab white sand beach with blazing sunshine, did apologise for being a bitch but I had promised I'd do such a thing and would hate to disappoint!!  Back at the shop problem diagnosed as the cam chain, would take several days to get -the parts and do work so had to bring DR back Thursday.  Most positive news we've had in weeks - so nice to be looking at a possible end to the on-going saga of problems - opps, sorry - saga of 'challenges'!

Upkeep on my girl

April 24 started with a  text from T stating ‘I hate you’ – she obviously received  the one I'd send the day before bragging about being on the Costa Brava - fair reply I would say.  Have loads of sewing repairs – hardly ever had them at home but they are a constant requirement now, definitely one of the most on-going ‘housekeeping’ jobs we have and no matter how many you do there’s always more – ahhh.  The mozzies are insane here, fucking batard whores of things are even getting through our clothes - I kid you not! We’re going to have to spray our clothes as well as our skin – I swear, if they keep going at this rate, we’ll have to live in full bike gear! 

Paul at LeoMotos

Thursday dropped the bike off, all we have to do now is wait and keep fingers crossed.  Turned out cam chain was not the only problem, Sean rang Paul, the mechanic, rocker arms are worn and piston rings are gone so more parts to be ordered and work to be done.  Friday of the following week arrived at LeoMotos and Seanie’s girl was waiting outside the shop, started her up  - sounds like a completely different  bike!  Was fab to be back on my girl and Sean was like a dog with two……………, you fill in the blanks!  Stopped for supplies and some celebratory Cristal beer and back to the site to enjoy it with dinner.  All going well (though not counting on it) we might be in morocco next week – wow, can you imagine what that would be like - a completely different continent, ahhhhhh!!!!!!!!

Finally, some friends!

May 5th, our last evening on Olhao campsite, we decided to treat ourselves to our first ‘meal out’ and bought dinner in the campsite café which was a meat feast, delicious, and with beer was less than €18.  Joined Jimmy, Geraldine, Alan, Dean and John (all of whom we'd become friends with over the 2 wks) for a drink and chatted. Swapped email addresses, really nice to start making friends after absolutely no contact with  people for so long.

Pete (& Nelly hiding behind)

Next morning as we were packing a guy on a bike who’d pitched a tent near us came over to chat. Turns out Pete took the boat to Santander and is cycling to Tenerefe to stay with his sister for a bit – lunatic (re the cycling, not his sister!).  He hit some of the same weather as us but unlike a motorbike where you can get the fuck out of there quickly, on a bicycle (weighing 45kg with all the gear and called Nelly – you work it out!) tis not so easy. In our near two months out Pete is our first ‘fellow adventurer’ and it was an absolute pleasure to chat to him (his blog is on Tumblr ‘wellsyontour’) - finally feel like there are others out there with the same nomadic lusts as us. 

Back to Spain

Incredible weather, lending to some spectacular views, the fields were out in all their glory flashing their best bits like they were being photographed for the cover of Vogue.  Took a ferry back to Spain for the princely sum of €8.15 (how does that work out for 2 bikes and 2 idiots???? – perhaps idiots are charged extra special fees!!).  Aimed for Seville, me having high hopes of hitting Gibraltar today, evening saw us only reaching Seville (half way) despite a full day of riding (see, proof of the ‘idiotness’).  No camping so a hostel/hotel room was the only option.  Was a bit more expensive than we were hoping for but at €45 for what turned out to be a gorgeous room with TV, en suite and wifi, we certainly couldn’t complain, the strain of all this m/c adventuring is definitely going to take its toll at some stage – it’s just such hard going! 

Seville Hotel

A 'bit' of Seville

Decided after our long, tough, anxiety ridden day of travelling through marvellous countryside, discovering a gorgeous walled town with a church with Arabic influenced architecture, ~28C, and a lovely hotel room, the only way to unwind was to take a bath.  The ‘bath’ was spectacular’.  It was hands down, without exception, unreservedly, the smallest bath I have ever encountered in my entire life!  When I showed it, via Skype, to my Mum she thought it was the sink!  HOWEVER never to be ones to be defeated we decided to give it a go.  Sean discovered flexibility he never knew he had trying to fit in it with me, and OMG trying to extricate ourselves - that was painful! 

Spot the turtle!

May 7th: Wow Seville is amazing, seriously, stunning city, number one so far I think.  Christoper Columbus is buried in the cathedral (remember that when you're on ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire’).  When we got going scenery changed quickly, eventually settling into rolling green, brown and yellow hills that became greener as we went until they were dozens of different greens - all of which looked like they were made from velvet or felt.  The air was really warm and there was loads of different floral smells, I wonder who the first person was who thought ‘I want to smell like a flower’?

Seville shop window

Roads twisty and VERY hard work but worth it for the breath taking views - when we got to see them that is.  The roads were ‘look at me’ roads, i.e. so twisty you didn’t dare take your eyes off them for a second but you could just feel the gorgeousness sliding by, just past your peripheral vision - teasing because it knew you couldn’t look at it!  Still having  the one sided dialogue with my girl re steering, if I could just convince her to steer as well as run, I could then enjoy the views but she’s proving stubborn, may need to change tactics in this debate I think. 

View over Algeciras port

Hotel view of port -exciting!

Finally got to Algeciras (Spanish port for the ferry to Tanger Med). Approaching the hotel (directly in front of the port entrance, cushy or what) Sean was pounced on by a guy who ran out on the road in front of him in an attempt to sell him ferry tickets. Then they had a go at me, and so, the fun starts, way hey!  Checked into the hotel full of excitement for what the next few days would be like before we finally got to ride on to the boat that would whisk us away to horizons unknown.