Day 3 Marseille to Barcelona
Country
After a good night’s sleep I woke up around 8am and gathered my things together, got my leathers on and departed the ApartCity hotel.
Today wasn't about big miles, I had all day to get to Barcelona, although even on the motorways it would be a 3 - 4 hour ride.
Before setting off on my phone I checked out a stop on the way in Montpellier, a Harley dealer with a cafe inside. It looked a good place to grab a coffee en route seeing as the hotel didn't have the usual free coffee in the room so I was needing my morning caffeine fix.
I sent the address from my phone to my SatNav (they're linked together via bluetooth) and on my SatNav I could adjust the route, it has a 'Plan a Thrill' setting which chooses twisty and hilly roads on three settings, low, medium and full. Full is absolutely ridiculous, if you programmed full twisty mode to your local shops and you lived in Leeds it would have you going via Inverness! Medium was tried first but more than doubled the journey time so the low setting was chosen and I'd make the cafe around 1.30pm
It was a great ride once I'd stopped at what seemed like every red light coming out of Marseille, the French love their speed humps too! The route followed the coast at first and I'd now packed differently to have my phone handy instead of my passport so I could take pics easier without having to take the rucksack off. But after the first photo stop I realised I could stop every 500yards; the scenery was beautiful.
At the cafe, American soul music was playing, there were a few French bikers hanging out and I was served a coffee and a hot dog by a pretty French girl in a pair of tiny hot pants, you can't ask for more really.
So I sat outside on the cafe tables, admiring the view. The Harleys looked great, all chrome gleaming in the hot afternoon sunshine. Not as nice as my gold wheels and calipers though.
Sat down in the shade I thought it would be a good time to check hotels in Barcelona, my only search filter was 'parking' and I opened the first cheapest one. I scanned the reviews and they were really good but I noticed it was a hostel. Well money talks and with the reviews, location 5 miles out of Barcelona city and what looked like a secluded car park I thought this hostel thing was worth a try. They'd be less fussy about me chaining my bike up to their front gate too like the hotels don't allow. And it was a non-profit scheme helping those with disabilities, deal, booked. I sent the address to my SatNav and got back on the road, I wanted time to get into Barcelona city so I chose the fastest route on the motorways, ETA 5pm
The motorway route was still spectacular at points as it went close to the coast so I could glance over at the azure blue Mediterranean sea as I sat cruising at 130kph. The AP-7 over the Pyrenees mountain range was stunning too.
My toll tag for France had worked perfectly as well, I just kept it in my front chest pocket and all I had to do was ride up to the barriers and they'd open, with good timing you didn't even have to come to a stop. No messing about with change or cards.
There was no fuss at the border, no sign either as I entered Spain but I knew because I got a text on my SatNav whilst on the move (from my phone about it connecting to the Spanish network).
I stopped 100km from Barcelona at a motorway service station for petrol and as it had an outdoor cafe and tables in the shade I had a coffee and chocolate pastry thing. It was really hot in the sun, and that was just what I came here for after two weeks of persistent rain at the Isle of Man TT earlier in the year. This ride had already made up for that.
Then on to Barcelona, I found the hostel up a narrow winding road on a hillside. The greeting at check in was friendly, I'd got the lower bunk in a mixed room of ten beds. There was a large locker for each person, clean showers and toilets, a restaurant, bar, seating, communal areas, different buildings (over 20 rooms across three buildings) oh, and a swimming pool - so far this was perfect. I put my leathers and everything in my locker, changed into my casual clothes, grabbed my helmet, remembering to switch to the clear visor and got back on the bike and headed into the middle of Barcelona centre, a 15 minute ride.
Barcelona is amazing, beautiful streets and buildings, shops, and loads of crazy locals on scooters. They rode so aggressively and frantically but the cars didn't mind, never tooted their horns. This is why I came to Spain, furious moto riding is just the norm, socially acceptable, expected, I had a duty to join in.
I parked up and went for a wander through the streets and to the harbour where the superyachts were moored. One had a helicopter on the back! I spent an hour walking round taking in the sights and atmosphere, even in that short time I could see why people who'd been loved it, it would have something for everyone, trendy bars, boutique shops, ancient history, art and architecture and so much more. The sun set over the city skyline.
I'd seen a pizza place near to where I'd parked so I headed back and stopped in a supermarket to pick up some chocolate milkshake and two cans of whiskey and coke. I popped them in my rucksack I'd brought, to have back at the hostel by the pool. This had the makings of a perfect day.
I had a starter (garlic bread) a drink and a big, delicious pepperoni pizza, sat inside a lovely Italian style restaurant. For under €20 I was chuffed. What a great choice.
I tipped them generously and then went back to the bike, still parked safe in a big crowd of parked scooters. It was dark now and the ride out of the city was ace, I'd started to get the hang of the traffic light hustle and the locals all seemed to want to pit their scooters against the Fireblade. It saw them all off.
Back at the hostel the place was buzzing, much busier than when I checked in, people in the restaurant, at the bar, in the communal rooms. As planned I sat by the pool where it was quieter and supped my cans of Jim Beam & Coke writing this. What a fantastic day.