3rd October (sunny and mild, cool breeze) 32 km

Woke this morning at 7.40am. It’s still dark at that time to an extent, just enough to make you want to roll over and get some more kip. Anyway, we couldn’t have done that this morning because if it wasn’t the digger working behind the camp, starting precisely at 7am, it would have been the planes or the trains, not to mention the motorway.  I swear that at a worldwide convention for campsites, they sit and discuss just how to get you out of bed in the morning. It doesn’t matter if it’s a two star or a five star rated camp, if they can park you next to an airport runway, or a glass recycling plant, they will.

Upon waking Julia went to pick up the powerbank that she had left with the guy to charge, but it had not done so. Whether this was a loose connection or just not pushed in properly, we don’t know, but we plugged everything in that we could into the power sockets in the bathrooms while we breakfasted and then dismantled the tent. Packed up an absolutely sodden fly sheet again along this time with the groundsheet and inner. The fly had dripped water onto the inner and you could have had a bath, there was that much water. Just another job that required doing later.

This track was too rough to ride, but at least we didn't have to go back on that busy road

There was no way either of us wanted to get back on those busy roads so using Maps Me, Ju had plotted a course on trails and tracks this morning. First, we had to push our bikes up a stony track and through a tunnel under the railway lines to the other side, where we met up with a small road that led us into Errenteria. From there, using this fantastic App, we negotiated our way through this working class industrial city, which I might add, had fantastic bike paths. It was while we were looking to check a direction that our day’s adventure began.

Very industrial on the way into San Sebastian - but great cycle paths!

Along comes a guy called Daniel, a seventy three year old, who without any use of English manages to ask us if we are heading for San Sebastian. He then cycles and we follow him the 10km on perfect cycleways all the way to the city and down to the beachside promenade. 

In the words of Elton John - Daniel...you're a star!!!

Ju here: Yes, we couldn’t have asked for a more dramatically different start to today after the end of our day yesterday.  It was like Spain was testing our desire to see her.  You want to see what I have to offer, well let’s see how much you really want it.  But it was only a very short, but tough test and suddenly we’re in and welcomed like old family members.  The sun is shining, the washing drying on the handlebars and the people friendly.  Errenteria was not much to write home about, but San Sebastian…..wow!  And lovely Daniel, not content with just leading us there, then becomes our personal tour guide, riding us from this place to that, for all the best vantage points and walking us through town, showing us all the tapas bars, brimming over with food on the bars.  

Surf beach

Swim beach - Konxta Plage, just a two minute bike ride from the surf beach

Downtown

A myriad of clean tidy streets, filled with tapas bars

It was close to lunchtime and looked very inviting, so he took us to his favourite bar and shouted us a glass of wine and an anchovy tapa each.  Not sure I’ve ever eaten anchovies before, but to me it tasted a lot like sardines……so I LOVED IT!  So we ordered another round of tapas for us all, this time anchovies with sea urchins on (by this time we were one glass of wine down and keen for anything).  Still tasted like sardines to me but now we knew how much they were and heck, we could have had two cans of sardines each for the price of each tapa.  So two was enough and we left the bar with Daniel who showed us a bit more of his hometown.

It is made for bicycles, bike paths everywhere and we wonder if that is to cater for the students as they have a university here.  Certainly if you want a young buzz to your town, plonk a university in it.  Factor in a surf beach and a beach with no waves and bars upon bars and well kept, very clean streets and you have yourself a winner.  Daniel escorted us to the supermarket but it was quite small and they didn’t have chilli con carne – oh no, what to do?  Luckily they had sardines, so packed a couple of tins away and some frozen broccoli to have for tea later. 

We then said goodbye to our wonderful host and headed back to the square to make use of the free wifi.  However, it was only half an hour which I was quite glad about as we didn’t want to spend too long on the computer on such a beautiful day.  So we cycled to an inconspicuous place at the end of the bay and laid the flysheet out to dry while we brewed a cup of coffee.  We had stopped by the tourism office earlier and been told of two campsites.  She was pretty sure they were both open but neither camp answered their phone when she rang them.  She recommended Igueldo, which she said was a very nice camp in a lovely setting, but it was up a 3km long hill.  I didn’t say anything but Pete knew it would need more than a lovely setting to get me up a 3 km long hill, especially when she wasn’t even sure it was open.  The other option was Igara, which was not as far out of our way and looked to be accessible from a road following a river – usually a good sign that the road will probably be reasonably flat. 

Pete said we should just go to the one the tourist office recommended.  I reminded him we did that last night and look how that turned out!  So after a quick stop at another supermarket to get breakfast supplies as both camps were in the middle of nowhere, we found ourselves in the identical situation as last night. Cycling out of town about 5.00pm towards a campground the tourism office had told us was open.  I had looked at Maps Me and said to Pete I wanted to try an alternate route rather than the 3km (which MapsMe told me was actually 8km), steep hill route suggested by the tourist girl from the comfort of her soft chair in her air conditioned office who had probably never been on a bike in her life.  This road also happened to pass the other camp, Igara, which the tourist girl seemed to know nothing about.

I nervously led us along the flat bike paths of San Sebastian to the required road which followed a small creek, hoping that we wouldn’t be on another wild goose chase.  We hadn’t gone too far at all when we came across the sign for Igara Camping.  We followed numerous signs with a few little hills, but nothing major and eventually came to the camp which was….OPEN!  We were delighted!  Not only were they open, but they only charged 11 euros for the night.  And they have free wifi, and they have a pool and unlike last night’s camp which also had a pool, this one was big, full of water and inviting rather than half full of dirty green water with weeds growing from between the tiles.  The toilets and showers here are immaculate and vast.  We have the use of a common room, a microwave, an electric jug and a fridge.  There’s a gym and a sauna!  And we can power our devices for free!  So we think we’ll stay here two nights!  Yes, today has been a very good day so we are just hoping for a good night now.  There are no motorways, no airports, no diggers, no railway lines and we have positioned our tent slightly behind a shed to shield us from the camp lights.

The huge common room that we had mainly to ourselves

The pool which we hope to make use of tomorrow

Pete here: However…there is always a however. I’ve just taken our dishes back to the tent after dinner, leaving Julia to blog and there is a couple setting up their tent, not twenty feet from ours. Are you kidding people?  This site is vast and you pitch right next to us. Did you hear we were the best show in town or something..? As I put the stuff inside, I noticed that there was condensation already forming on the tent, the temperature has dropped dramatically, but it could mean that we are swimming even before we enjoy the lovely pool tomorrow. Not a good selling point for Vango tents however.

Spoke to Elizabeth on the phone tonight and her and Phil are hoping to reach us in San Sebastian tomorrow. We have a coffee date with an older couple from Holland called Anna and Mike at 10.00am, then we think we’ll try out the pool. After lunch, perhaps Julia will get a surf if it’s any good and by then the guys will be getting close, as long as they take a different route to the one that we chose. Time to close down on a day that has seen our impression of Spain increase greatly and that goes for its inhabitants as well.

2nd October (sunny and mild, misty morning) 50 km

Woke at 7am and Pete said he’d had a terrible night’s sleep.  “We’re sleeping downhill aren’t we?” he said and immediately I noticed that yes, we were indeed sleeping downhill.  It hadn’t bothered me but it made his head feel woozy.  He snuggled down a bit more to try and get a bit more rest, which was a complete waste of time as everybody in the world knows that 7am is the universal time for the rubbish truck’s arrival.  I don’t know how they manage to synchronise their watches and be at every household, business and campsite at the exact same time, but they do.  They say Father Christmas learned all his time management skills from rubbish collectors and I can believe it.  In fact you think of all the rubbish that is created from the silly season and you start to believe they could well be in cahoots with each other.

So I made us a cup of tea and uploaded yesterday’s photos.  Thank goodness for digital photography – we have seen so much and would forget so much if we didn’t have our photos to help us remember.  Took our time packing up as the office didn’t open until 9am.  Pete was not in a good mood.  Obviously sleeping on his head was not a great start to the day, but anybody who knows Pete, knows how much he likes order (how we ended up together, I don’t know!) and also how much he like dry washing.  I’m talking line dried washing here, nothing wasteful like the stuff from the dryer – that’s just cheating in his eyes.  So when he discovered the pair of socks and undies and the small towel he had left dangling from his bike overnight were completely sodden from a heavy dew, he was not a happy camper.  Even less so when he discovered the flysheet had suffered the same fate, because you know what that means…….he has to pack the fly and the inner separately.  That means no neat, tidy tent in it’s blue dry bag sitting obediently across his back panniers.  Only the tent inner will be in there and the flysheet will be packed away as neatly as humanly possible into an unceremonious shopping bag - and–to cap things off, he has to try and arrange his wet washing on top of this ugly pile.  While he struggled to arrange things to his satisfaction he declared he was over camping and we trudged up the driveway to pay for our last night of living in a tent, as the office had been closed when we arrived last night.  Unfortunately at 10am when we left, the office was still closed.  Suddenly Pete thought camping was a great idea as we left the damp shade of the trees and cycled off into the sunshine.

Pete here: Oh how the world mocks me…. Just like they mocked Leonardo with his “man will someday fly” theories. But I will revolutionise the world of washing and drying, whilst camping and yes, there are those who will laugh….ha ha ha….. and there are those who will call me crazy and talk behind my back, but it is I who will be remembered, as cycle tourers around the world with their undies dangling freely from their handlebars, and their socks swinging in the breeze on the ends, ride along appreciatively and nod knowingly.

Out of Sea Green campsite and off to the hilly but picturesque village of Bidart. What a lovely way to begin a day, cycling through beautiful places. The tree pruners were on a mission here and were well down the track getting rid of the year’s growth in preparation for winter. Cruised into the fabulous town of St. Jean de Luz. This would have to be one of our picks in France. It has a lovely feel to it and although there were plenty of tourists about, even at this time of year, they weren’t taking over. 

One of the first shops we see in St Jean du Luz

A beautiful big old church in the middle of town

Lunchtime viewing

This quaint town has a beach and a harbour. It also has some very high quality shopping on offer. For us it had a relaxed and pretty town square. Oh and I forgot to mention…free wifi. Whilst Julia started on the blog, I wandered the small lanes and alleyways, searching for good shots. After picking up some lunch, it was back to Ju and we moved off to a little parklike area, just off the seaside prom, where we were able to lay the tent fly and groundsheet out to dry whilst we ate lunch.

On the lookout for a toilet and Maps.Me tells us there is one 23 metres from our lunch spot.  It was so discreetly hidden behind well cut hedges, I am sure we would have missed it if MapsMe hadn’t told us it was there.  This app is awesome!

Decided that because the sun was shining, although it wasn’t really that warm, we would pop over the other side of the prom for a sunbathe and a swim. The bay was gorgeous, with only a few people out, but considering the amount, most were having a dip of some kind. Ju and I lay out for about an hour and decided that even though the wind was a little cool, that we couldn’t let the southern hemisphere down, so, in for a swim. Actually, the water was warmer than it has been for a while and as I ventured further out into the bay, it got warmer.

Fort at Socoa

An amazing piece of coastline

That's Spain in the distance

A huge hotel at Hendaye

Gear packed, we rode away heading for Spain, passing through the coastal village of Socoa and around the hilly bay into Hendaye, more of a resort town, with huge bay and beach. Enjoyed an ice cream on the front and paid a visit to the Tourism Office to find out about campsites. The nice young lady told us the only campground in town that was still open was 2 kms back the way we had come, uphill (of course) only when we get there we find they were in fact closed for the season. Checked out two other options, but they too were shut.  Now we had a problem in that it was 5.30pm and our nearest campsites according to MapsMe were 23 km away, with no guarantee of being open.

Crossed the border into Spain at Irun, a big sprawling mass, which we then had to negotiate a path through, in order to get out the other side and find a camp. The afternoon was drawing to a close and the light fades here now at 7.30pm. With the attempted help of a couple of locals, we made our way through this very busy town to the other side, where we ended up on one of the busiest roads we have ever travelled on. It was busy, fast and very dangerous and not an experience that we want to remember Spain by.  We were literally riding on four lane roads, two each side, however, you are able to ride them as they have cycle lanes. Why anyone would choose to do so is purely out of necessity I would think. We were losing light and the situation was dire as there wasn’t even a freecamp option close at hand, just busy freeway.

Finally closed in on the first of two campgrounds that MapsMe told us were in this area on the outskirts of Errenteria.  Our first option was up the top of a steep hill (what else?) and when we got there a woman coming out of the locked gate told us it was a private camp.  Damn MapsMe, you didn’t tell us that!  She directed us to the other camp only about a km away but over quite busy roads.  At one off-ramp where we were taking a breather and getting our bearings, we asked a couple of road workers in a van if there was a camp and they directed us to Oliden. Crossed this horrendous road only to find ourselves stuck in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately, the guys had been watching and came in their truck, put their hazards on and the four yellow flashing lights on top of their truck and told us to follow them around this bend to an off ramp that we couldn’t see. It was like having our own personal police escort to the door and we waved them off with a lot of Muchos gracias!

Pulled into camp, mentally shot, set up tent, managed to get the owner to charge our power bank overnight, otherwise….no blog and ate some much needed food, after showers. Tomorrow, it’s vital that we find smaller roads on our way to San Sebastian.

Aaah, sanctuary at last!

1st October (sunny and mild) 58 km

Mum’s birthday today, she would have been eighty-seven. I still think of her at some point throughout my days and especially when you’re riding long distances, you have more of a chance to think. I had a great relationship with Mum and I was very lucky, some people don’t get the fifty seven years I got. So, wherever you are Mum and you deserve the very best place…. If it were a camping ground, it would definitely be five star. I toast what would have been your birthday and tell you that you are missed by an awful lot of family members.

The day dawned cloudy, but fine and with no mist and fog to worry about, we had a cup of coffee [no milk for tea], packed up and hit the road. I managed to catch up on some much needed zzz’s last night, although there was still one irate Frenchman during the night rambling on loudly, before tucking himself up in his bed. This camp (La Moussailant) would have been one of the best we’ve had, especially for peace and quiet and getting the tent pegs in the ground without doing serious damage to your palms.

A typical view of the seemingly neverending pine forest

Headed for a supermarket and as it happens, our favourite one, a Super U, was just down the road. All stocked for breakfast and lunch, we found a spot under some trees not far away and although a little cool, we enjoyed a nice breakfast. Today we were to be visiting some of France’s surfing meccas, including Seignosse, Hossegor, Capbreton and Biarritz. 

Pete surveys the beach and we decide to plonk ourselves down here and watch the waves

Nobody was in the water when we arrived and I mentioned to Pete it would be great for boogieboarding.
 In half an hour there were sixteen surfers in front of us, half of them boogers

One of them, Stef Gilmore

Actually stopped at Hossegor and sat on a beautiful beach for forty five minutes watching them surf. This coming week the Roxy Pro and the Quicksilver Pro are taking place here. The world’s television crews were already setting up and the place definitely had a vibe going on. Whilst watching and taking photos on the beach, former women’s World Champ, Stef Gilmore paddled out in the water….what’s the chances…?

Hossegor

The closest I got to catching a wave

And for anyone wondering why we weren’t in the water today, it’s because the air temperature was only about seventeen degrees and the water temp yesterday was about fourteen…. Yes that’s right viewers….fourteen.  It’s been very cold every day we have been in, but today we were too early and weren’t feeling it. Keren, just in case you are sitting there in Maloolaba saying…”Oh come on Pete, go in for a swim with her”, I’ll have you know, that I’ve been the one coaxing her into the freezing friggin water, just because the beaches are so bloody gorgeous.

This entire coastline is totally geared up for surfing. Surfing schools, surfing camps, surf shops, cafes, restaurants, surf gear hire, surf houses. The weather has been great for this and we look forward to more as we go into Spain and Portugal. Elizabeth and Phil are still behind us and we’re not sure when we’ll hook up again.

Rode into Labenne and found their Tourist Info office, complete with free wifi. They were closed for lunch, which was fine with us as we only wanted free wifi really so we could upload the blog.  For some reason all the campgrounds lately have been charging up to 5 euros per hour for wifi!!....I think not! 

A popular way to go exploring the vast expanses of beach, looking for an uncrowded wave

Capbreton

Blogging outside the tourist office - the autumn colours really coming through now

Our riding during the afternoon stint was all on the road as we had to get to Anglet, where they had a Decathlon store and so, fresh stocks of camping gas and hopefully a new magnet for my speedometer/computer, as mine fell off my front wheel a couple of days ago.

The ride to Anglet shopping centre BAB2, wasn’t particularly fun as the traffic was heavy and the drivers were shit, a fact we have come to discover, the further south we have come. They have no patience and will cut you off in the blink of an eye. The trucks are actually the most courteous.

With the help of our offline app, Maps.me, we found the Decathlon store. This is an outdoor person’s heaven. You name it …they got it. I’m like a kid in an ice cream parlour.  However, we had a job to do. Strolled in to get the gas, which we know they stock and they didn’t have it…only a different type, no good for us. Looked all over and then asked a nice guy who showed me where it was. Great… have gas….but why keep them separately? Asked him about the bike magnet and found out that they have another store across the road. Are you kidding…this one was massive in itself. Over the road I met a really nice guy called Oliver, who not only gave me one of their best magnets for nothing, but also pumped up our tyres with a compressor and told us about his trip to NZ some years back. We noticed the difference in the tyres as soon as we left the store…..our bikes were flying along.  Really glad Oliver pumped them up because there were quite a few sharp hills in and around Biarritz and on our ride south, and the bikes were much more responsive with that extra air in their tyres.  And looking south at the hills to come in Spain, that was a very timely adjustment.

Scenes from Biarritz

A bit of sandart we whipped up in between taking photos

Tomorrow, we leave France. It’s been thirty years since we cycled here and in that timeframe, we have found the people have become really friendly with other nationalities, something that was lacking back then. Most younger people speak English and if you even try to communicate with older folk in French, they will go out of their way to assist you. Well done Froggies… you are awesome..!!

Last part of the journey saw us cycling into the famous Biarritz, celebrity hangout for years. It’s still an elegant town although time has caught up with her. But, it was lovely to experience how the other half spend their vacation time, if only in a small way. Kept mainly to the coastal road looking for an elusive campsite. They are becoming fewer and fewer as autumn marches on. Finally discovered one south of Biarritz, called Sea Green, which is where we are laying our heads for the night. All full from a great meal and some alcohol, we will hopefully catch some shuteye.

30th September (misty cold morning, sunny, warm afternoon) 74 km

Well…..Where to begin. Last night we rolled into this nice little camp…Les Echasses . It was on our way south to Mimizan. The lovely girl on reception was French and told us, in good English, how New Zealand was a country that she’d always wanted to visit. We set up in the area for tents and proceeded with our usual post ride rituals, showers, laundry, dinner, drinks, sleep…….did I just say sleep…?

The camp was like a lot we’ve encountered in France, a trailer park with nice homes, with space for motor homes and tents. As we were setting up there was music playing, nothing out of the ordinary, seemed in the background to what was going on. There was definitely a large Spanish contingent at this camp, something we haven’t come across at all.

Finished with our bedtime rituals, we could hear an Irish guy, who I presume was having a meal and conversation with one of the Spanish families. Not loud, but as with the Irish, there is always that possibility. I mentioned as much to Julia, just before her nightly death sleep.

“Think this might be a loud one “ I said as she drifted off to that planet far away, where nothing can reach you and the place is full of little bunnies, hopping all around, whilst 60’s flower power hippies, smoke their weed, oblivious of anything else going on.

Whilst she slept peacefully…..I was invited….whether I felt like it or not, to the noisiest house party  in France….featuring DJ Tapas, who thought he was playing to the Nou Camp stadium. Loud, is not the word. I was at AC/DC’s last bash at Western Springs and it rivalled that.  Julia, I kid you not….sleeps on.

The choice of music varies from Abba…..through Gimme Gimme Gimme a man after midnight….to English house party music, to Celebrate Good Times, to Mariachi music. Played at volumes beyond belief, we had the occupants of the Spanish contingent literally screaming outside their homes. Mothers with young children who couldn’t sleep were going off….in Spanish. One woman even dragged her poor wide awake kid down to the raucous partiers, in an attempt to appeal to their better nature. She was back twenty minutes later, still going off, with a now crying child.

Guys from what I can only imagine, was the camps Spanish mafia, were being piled into cars, the torment apparent as they spoke faster than the normal thousand words a minute. It was so disturbing, it actually became comical. The only thing I was worried about, was how we were going to pack up the tent and two bikes in the middle of the night and ride through the mob out front, without being accosted.

It was just on 1am when Julia stirs. “You won’t believe what’s been going on here” I say, disbelieving of the fact that she could sleep at all. After relaying the story, she casually says to me, now that she is awake…”Shall I make a cuppa.” Then she drifted off again……It is now 2am. The music has been reduced in volume, not that Julia cares…..she hasn’t woken again.

3am saw the end of the “Big Day Out” and the music subsided, but sleep was not on my agenda. Firstly, the revellers from said music event had to come home, straight past our door, as is the norm for us. Not content with speaking at a hundred miles an hour, in a language I don’t understand, I have to get one with the loudest whiny voice in the camp. Telling, I imagine her two friends who accompany her, what had happened…..Hello…..they were there…!!!!

At around 4am an older Spanish woman seemingly drags some guy into her trailer home right outside our pitch and begins some form of abusive sex acts on him, where he is physically thrown around the trailer home and consistently pushed against the walls. The voices got louder and louder. I’m still not sure it was consensual on his part. Finally after a few noisy stragglers, I snuggled into Julia, as I was now cold, as well as wide awake and fell asleep for an hour and a half.

In the words of Victor Meldrew, from the British television comedy series…”One Foot In The Grave”

I don’t bloody well believe it!

Ju here – poor old Pete.  I knew he was going to suffer as I drifted off to sleep.  I’m so glad I can sleep through almost anything because it was loud.  As I went off the little party going on at the trailer with the Irish guy was loud enough, but you could hear things revving up in the big party out the front – I think they even had a DJ.

So we were up about 7.30am and Pete couldn’t wait to get out of there, forgoing even breakfast!  I made him stay long enough so I could at least have a cup of tea and then we hit the road in a very cold, thick mist.  It was very lucky we had a bike path following alongside the road as it would have been dangerous to be on that road in those conditions.  We fired along, trying to warm up and realise we’ll have to drag out our warm gloves if we get any more mornings like this.

It was very cold riding through this mist this morning

On the plus side, when we had been cycling along this road yesterday afternoon, there had been a serious headwind – this morning there was nothing.  No wind to shift the mist either so we just had to wait for the sun to get warm enough to pierce it’s way through it.  We had just about reached Mimizan Plage when we saw a beautiful picnic area by a river, so decided to stop here for breakfast.  It was lovely, sitting with the sun on our backs, gradually thawing out and the mist departing for good.  We only had muesli and coffee, but by now it was 10am, so it wouldn’t be too long before we were having lunch.

Unfortunately, the supermarket we had hoped to visit at Mimizan Plage was closed.  However, we did spy a market by the town square and they had free wifi in the town square too.  So while I uploaded the past two days blogs, Pete rounded up some tomatoes, nectarines, bananas and baguettes from the different stalls.  We also managed to facebook call Georgina which was nice as we hadn’t caught up with her in awhile.

Pete blogs at breakfast time - I employ my handlebars as a washing line.

Set off from here with our supplies, heading along more pine-forested sealed tracks over sand dunes – very nice.  We started off cruising but the speed built so by the time we reached Contis Plage, we were ready for a swim at yet another huge expanse of beach.  The water was clearer here than it has been and the waves not so big, so we managed to bodysurf a couple before going for a warm-up on the soft, white sand.

It's not every day you see a lighthouse in a forest

Went to a nearby park for our lunch and then hit the forest tracks again for another hour until just south of Saint Girons Plage, where we emerged onto the road for our final stretch into Messanges.  We noticed several camp options but wanted to get to Messanges as it had a supermarket, however, it too was closed, being Sunday today.  So we camped at the nearby campground, happy to have found an open one as it sounds like Phil and Elizabeth have been struggling with this.  At least the supermarket will be open in the morning.

So we got the tent up, had showers and made do with baguette and tomato for dinner.  Forgot to mention I gave Pete a haircut last night – not too bad a job either considering I had to use the miniature sewing scissors.

Tomorrow will probably be our last day in France.  We have really enjoyed our time here, seen some amazing sights and had some brilliant riding.  It has also been mostly flat - an added bonus.  Campsites have been cheap, drivers mostly considerate – although we have noticed the further south we go, this appears to be less so.  The weather has been all around very conducive to bike riding, hardly ever wet and averaging about 23C.  Thanks France – we’ve enjoyed a fantastic five weeks here!