To Spain through France and back to Leeds

What a perfect first day, I could not have asked for more.

I'd managed to wangle a day 'working from home' as officially at work my holiday shouldn't start until tomorrow.

So that meant I could sleep in but I still got up early at 7am as I was so excited but also nervous of the adventure that I'd planned. (Although I use the term planned loosely as I'd only read a few articles about riding in France and Spain and booked a return ticket on the Le Shuttle.)

I did it! Over 650 miles in 10 hours.

I got on Le Shuttle fine this morning and got grouped with a bunch of other bikers going to a rally on the east of Paris. They were surprised and commended my plan to get to Madrid. 

I boarded at 9.40am and hadn't realised France was an hour in front so when we got off in Calais it was 11.30am.

Again I was really grateful it was dry and sunny which made everything easier and more enjoyable.

I programmed in Marseille into the SatNav, not thinking I'd make it today and expecting to stop half way somewhere.

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.

A few hours yesterday wasn't enough and as I was ahead of my 12 day schedule I've stopped another day in Barcelona.

I decided this morning and booked another night in the hostel, just before sitting down to the continental breakfast that's included with the room, or should I say bunk-bed. Ham & salami sandwich, coco pops, a chocolate donut and half an apple seemed a strange combination but it was all nice and would set me up for trekking around the city.

I got up around 8am after another good night’s sleep at the hostel. I sat down for breakfast and chatted to a bloke from Sheffield who was stopping in the same room. The same as yesterday but instead of the chocolate donut it was a croissant, great value for money I thought, again.

I've found paradise. Riding my bike anywhere but here won't be the same again.

I was up around 8am and checked out of the guest house in Valencia, the bike had been fine tucked up in its secure underground parking spot.

But I couldn't visit Valencia without making a pilgrimage to Spain's premier racing track, reserved for the final and most prestigious round of the annual MotoGP calendar, the Ricardo Tormo circuit. It was just a 15 minute ride out of the city. It was quiet there with no events on, I got a photo of the bike at the entrance and it looked mint.

Just a quick entry today, I've got a pool to relax in.

So I'd packed up and donned my waterproof jacket and leggings over my leathers as it was raining when I woke up. Thankfully once outside attaching the rucksack to the bike it had stopped, out down the gravel track and onto the road it was to my surprise still dry. This made the twisty roads out of the national park and onto the highways another exciting ride.

Best day so far.

Last night instead of wasting time going into Almaraz I just ate in the Hotel Alonso de Monroy restaurant, this gave me longer in the pool, a good hour, with a very large European size bottle of lager, I had it all to myself, the pool and the lager. Under the stars in the moonlight.

Today started with a nice sleep in, I got up at 9.30am, packed my things, and had two Nutella 'B-ready' cereal bar type wafer chocolate things and a carton  of chocolate milkshake that I'd been saving as an emergency snack. I could easily replenish them later.

The good times carried on and the grass got greener.

I slept in and only woke at 9.30am, it didn't matter, I still had a ham pastry and bananas from my previous day’s stop at Lidl and other snacks and drinks I'd got from the petrol station next to the hotel (in Madrid) so I packed my stuff, taking these snacks with me for a breakfast on the move later.

Well it had to end, see you later Spain.

After staying in the pool last night with far too much lager to drink I was a bit hungover this morning, slept in later than planned and still hadn't booked anywhere for tonight.

A quick look on the map and La Rochelle looked somewhere in the middle of where I was and my final stop outside the UK in Calais that I've already booked for Sunday night.

Reminders of how lucky I am.

Up at 8.30am and I sat down for the free breakfast at the Chambre d'hôtes I'Avocette. It was quite a strange affair. Myself, a French bloke and the French hotelier lady. The table was laid out, jam, butter, orange juice. Plates, a bowl, a small glass tumbler, a knife & spoon at each chair. I took a seat, opposite the French guy.

The lady brought out a jug of coffee, the French guy looked confused and although he spoke to the lady in a foreign tongue, he didn't ask for a cup, so he poured some coffee into his bowl, and drank from it.

Homeward bound.

I woke with my alarm ringing at 7.15am, I had to be ready to check in for my Le Shuttle (that's the train in the channel tunnel) crossing at 9.50am. The terminal was only a 15 minute ride from the hotel in Calais so I had time to pack my things, take my bike out of the garage where it had been safe all night and check out.