Cycle Camino de Santiago
On May 1st 2011 i cycled the Camino de Santiago by push bike which will started at Chartres in France and ended in Santiago in Spain. I also rode part of the Camino North on my way back to Santander where i got the ferry back to the UK. The total distance was roughly 2,300 kilometers. The Camino de Santiago de Compostela, also known in English as The Way of St James, is a collection of old pilgrimage routes which cover all Europe. They all have Santiago de Compostela in north west Spain as their final destination. For more than 1000 years pilgrims have been walking along the Camino de Santiago.
My Camino de Santiago trip followed a route mapped out by legendary walker and author John Brierley starting in Chartres France and ending at Santiago although i did cycle another few hundred kilometers into the hills of north west Spain just for good measure.
I left London on May 1st taking the Euro Star to Paris. I thought i would be off one platform and onto another to take the train to Chartres. No, i had to take my fully laden bike on the Metro to another station. This was a mistake with all the stairs, escalators and tourists. On the SNCF train to Chartres i got locked in the toilets and after banging on the door for five minutes i got rescued by a French guy who prized the door open, this was slightly embarrassing.
My first night in France was in my tent in pouring rain behind some tall bushes. In the field next door a couple of hundred meters away a farmer was out shooting rabbits or as i thought trespassers. I kept my head down and hoped his dog didn't smell me, i survived my first night.
The first few days i had no petrol for my stove ( no petrol or bombs allowed on Euro Star ) and because i didn't know how to use the credit card system at the pump station. Instead i used my emergency wood burning stove. Bit of a novelty that stove but it worked a treat. Won't bring it next time though.
After a few days cycling i started getting a sore backside so in a town called Lusigan i went to a Pharmacy to get some cream. Two pretty young girls behind the counter didn't speak English, so having left my "Point it" traveller's picture guide book at home i had to use good old fashion hand gestures. Once they picked themselves up off the floor with laughter i got a tube of something they suggested, probably Imac and left.
That night i camped by a river in the towns municipal campsite for 4.90 Euros which was really nice.
On the 5th May five days after starting i accidently wiped my cycle computer clean whilst checking it it on the move, what a fool! Later that day i ran over a snake who hadn't heard of the Green Cross Code. Better dead than in my tent i thought. I named him Sid and took his picture before giving him a roadside burial, tossing him into the bushes.
I managed to cycle over 100 kilometers to reach Saintes by the end of the day, a first for me. Kilometers sound much better than miles when you tell people how far you've gone and a lot quicker to do.
From Saintes to Montendre i cycled into strong headwinds all day which was pretty uncomfortable. A local policeman pointed me in the the direction of Twin Lakes Campsite run by an ex squaddie and his partner. It was a great site with two big lakes full of Carp and the like. I saw this youngster catch a great big fish with a piece of bread on his first cast before screaming for his dad's help to stop him being dragged into the water. On the site they were really nice and let me sleep in the TV room when this whopper of a black cloud headed our way. They also had cold Stella on draught in the bar, that was free when i explained that i was doing the Caminio to raise money for Help for Heroes. The owner Gary also kindly offered free holiday's on his site in some of the mobile homes to recovering servicemen either side of the peak season. I thought this was a kind gesture and promised to pass it on to H4H when i return to the UK.
Next morning, Paul a worker on the site cooked me the full English with mugs of tea, waived the site fee and i set off for the ferry at Blaye.
Got my first puncture on a roundabout in Bordeaux.
Wild camped at a Ball Trap shooting club just outside Morcenais which had closed down.
Rode through the Forest of de Gascogne where i saw a stack of logs as high as a house, the width of two football pitches and as far as the eye could see. I took pictures but they didn't work.
I got a fit of sneezing one day from hay fever which zapped me of all my energy, must drink more beer to build i back up i thought.
Camped in a site at Peyrehorade where the owner gave me a cold bottle of beer when i arrived for free, starting to warm to the French.
Heading into the hills now toward the Pyrenees and the riding is getting a little harder.
I met a German Cyclist called Helmut when i stopped for lunch. He was a bike mechanic on a sabbatical and took up the slack on my chain. He also came over with his water bottle full of baby wild strawberries that he had picked along the way and offered me a big spoonful. I ate them and he then asked me what they tasted like. When i said they were nice he had some himself. He just used me as a guinea pig i thought, cheeky bugger. Poor old Helmut, he had his camera and mobile phone nicked at a campsite so i took some pix for him to send on later. His filling fell out of his tooth later that day and he went in search of a dentist. I didn't see him after that.
Got to St Jean Pied de Port which was the half way marked for me. I was the first up at the campsite in the morning but last to leave as i cooked another fry up of local bacon ( not like the good old British Danish bacon ) and tomatoes.
I was a bit disappointed as i rode 18 miles in 3 and half hours uphill into the Pyrenees. Nothing saying welcome to Spain and no border control to get my passport stamped. As i slugged away towards the top at a snails pace with all my gear i was just about to reach the peak when Hertz this Dutch cyclist went passed me just before the top and said "Beat You" in kinda kids way. Your welcome i thought as i nearly collapsed at the top. He declined my offer of a rematch at the bar when got to the next town.
Got to Cizor Menor and to an Albergue ( cheap pilgrims accommodation ). The owner was quite rude, said it was full and turned me away. I ate in a restaurant and headed into the dusk to find a farmers field to camp for the night. It was an uncomfortable nights sleep as i was sticky with sweat and hadn't filled my 10 ltr water bag up to wash with.
Camped near Domingo next to road works. The site put me next the the camp gas bottle which was fine until during the night there was thunder and lightning. At least it will be quick i thought.
My sore bum returned in the form of a boil which was pretty painful. I couldn't see whether it was ripe enough for bursting so using my skills as a photographer i, being careful not to include any unwanted baggage, took a picture of it on my compact camera. Not ready yet so i put a plaster on it.
Think it's about the 16th May and after too many beers last night i am having a half rest day. After bacon, mushrooms and toms i cycled to Carrion de los Condes with the wind mostly on my back. What a treat when the wind is in your favor, i kept turning round and going back a few meters into the wind and back again with it just to let myself know how lucky i was.
In Carrion de los Condes i booked into an old church Albergue for 5 Euros and went out for dinner. I queued at a restaurant where the menu of the day was 10 Euros for 3 courses and a bottle of house red thrown in. As it was packed and i was on my own i was invited to join 3 pilgrim walkers from the Netherlands at their table. They spoke good English, as they should, and we were getting on great. I told them i was a photographer and they were keen to see what pix i had taken from the trip. I gladly handed over my camera to them completely forgetting about the pictures of Billy the boil. I realized to late when the roars of laughter nearly took the roof off the restaurant. Then it was a mad scramble to get the camera back as they passed it to one another like kids in the playground. I have since deleted the pix and vowed to be more careful when i document my showering whilst wild camping.
Didn't get much sleep in the church Albergue, everybody snoring and coughing. The walkers get up at 5.30am to crack on with the day. I got some sleep from about 7pm till 9pm when they all left.
I have discovered Tortilla and coffee with milk to be my favorite breakfast in Spain. Potatoes with onion and eggs, i would stop whenever i saw it sold in the mornings and it kept me going till about 10.30am when i was hungry again.
I stopped at a shop in a town for fruit ( yuk ) and when the shop assistant saw the bike and H4H flag on the back and i told them what the charity was they didn't charge me for the apple and two bananas i tried to buy. I'll have try that in the butchers i thought.
Booked into an Albergue up in the hills at Rabanel del Camino. With dinner i had a bottle of wine. After at the bar i was drinking with some American chaps and had 5 beers and two big glasses of local cognac. Gotta good nights sleep that night for sure.
Head a bit wooly in the morning but set off for the highest point of the ride. Knackered at the top but the 5 kilometers downhill was superb, best part of the trip so far. Later that day i hit a second hill which i can only describe as the hill from hell. Not only was it hard but it rained on me all day. Got to a village called O'Cebreiro up above the clouds at 8pm in the evening totally knackered.
Next morning the views were to die for. Mountain peaks ( floating islands ) poking through the top of the clouds which i looked down on. At the top i saw another cyclist called Martin that i had met previously and nicknamed The Flying Dutchman because he was so fast on the bike. We took some pix before setting off downhill. I thought i was doing well catching him ( Martin ) up every couple of days until i found out he was finishing at about 2pm each day and having the odd rest day. I cycled down through the clouds which was amazing.
When i was riding through France i found treasure on the roadside as i had my head down pounding away at the peddles. The treasure was in the form of a cheque book ( found on one road ) and a purse with several cheques made out to someone along with some credit cards ( found on another road ). I handed them in at a bank and Mayors office. Not much treasure in Spain apart from a cycle glove i found on the road. I put it under a bungee and when i got to the next town for the evening and booked in to an Albergure for the night i stuck it on the top of my flag for people to see. It belonged to the cyclist husband of a French couple who were staying there too. "Incredible" "Incredible" his 67 year old ( but still reasonably fit for her age ) cyclist wife kept saying in a French accent.
Finally i reached Santiago on 21st May after 21 days cycling. Got a tourist to take a poor picture of me with most of my head missing in front of the cathedral and went to the office to get my certificate for completing the Camino, queuing for half an hour to get it.
The campsite in Santiago is up the highest hill in the city about 3k outside, i pushed the bike up.
Took some pictures in the town and went for dinner with The Flying Dutchman and his girlfriend who had flown in to meet him. As Martin had been in Santiago for a couple of days before me he had sussed out the best places to eat and the 3 of us went to a local Spanish bar on the edge of the tourist area. The food was great and wine even better, we filled up on 12 plate of food and drunk red and white wine for 40 Euros between us.
I was now finished but being cocky decided to try and cycle back a different way to Bilbao up through the Camino North route which takes you through the hills or mountains as i called them. I had ran out of maps so Martin let me have his as he was going home by plane.
I camped in a field next to a wood away from everything. Good place to do the shower pic which worked a treat and is now in the safe at home and deleted from the camera. I got as far a Lugo and headed towards Oviedo.
Put tent up at the back of an Albergue as there was no room inside. Went for a drink in a bar and in Spain in some places you buy a drink and they put a plate of food in front of you. Your suppose to take one piece of food like a sausage of something per drink that you buy. No one told me and i tucked in. I thought i was gonna get lynched by the locals and barmaid with the looks i got.
The hills were now getting to me and i was thinking of throwing the towel in but i kept thinking, remember who this is for. Didn't matter anyway as anything after Santiago was a bonus.
Got to Grandas de Slime and saw a dam for the first time. Climbed a big hill for a couple of hours until i found a flat spot and wild camped above the road out of site.
Next day i found a flatter but busier route which was great. Camped by a river which was fantastic. Got in my bag thinking i hope the river isn't tidal or there are no flash floods up stream. Still after a bottle Tinto i didn't care and anyway it would have been easier for the recovery team as i was already bagged up.
Got to Oviedo on the 28th and my legs were now officially dead. Stayed in an Albergue for the night and got the train to Santander the following afternoon.
Six hours the train took to Santander, almost as slow as i could have cycled.
Stayed two nights at a camp site in Santander then set off for Bilbao to get the ferry.
Stayed at a beachside campsite in Isla. It was empty apart from a couple of people.
The owner couldn't speak English so we communicated with our hands. After showing me where put my tent up i gestured where to pay. He pointed at the closed supermarket that was onsite. I pointed at my watch to ask what time it opened. He made a sleep gesture to say it was now closed for the night then held up one hand showing his five fingers. In the other hand he held up just four fingers, hiding his thumb, but his index finger was half missing at the joint from some previous accident. I couldn't help myself, so knowing he knew no English i said "Oh i see it opens at 8.30am in the morning". "Ze ze" he said without realizing the joke. That made me chuckle all night.
I left Isla in torrential rain and cycled 61 miles to Bilbao. My Gortex wet suit worked a treat at keeping me dry but my gloves with over mitts and shoe covers did not. I was holding my arms up every 10 minutes to let the water out of the so called waterproof mitts. Although a wet miserable day i quite enjoyed it, at least it wasn't to cold. I got to Bilbao only to find i had missed the ferry and the next one was 4 days away.
The next morning i got the train back to Santander for 8 Euros and went back the the campsite. I booked the ferry for the next day to take me to Portsmouth.
My last meal in Spain before i left was a spicy kebab and glass of beer served in a back street shop in Santander.
Would i do the ride again? Yes definitely. It would be nice to do it with someone else or a small group as some of the views are to good to keep to yourself, and I'm not talking about boils and showering.
I was amazed at how quickly i could shake off a hangover, it was like being 20 again. I put this down to the fitness level i was keeping up each day.
I had two sets of cycle clothes. Each night i would wash the clothes i wore that day and dry them on the back of the bike the next day.
I am now back in the UK. If you would like to donate then please go to: http://www.bmycharity.com/CaminodeSantiago
Many thanks,
Peter.
My Camino de Santiago trip followed a route mapped out by legendary walker and author John Brierley starting in Chartres France and ending at Santiago although i did cycle another few hundred kilometers into the hills of north west Spain just for good measure.
I left London on May 1st taking the Euro Star to Paris. I thought i would be off one platform and onto another to take the train to Chartres. No, i had to take my fully laden bike on the Metro to another station. This was a mistake with all the stairs, escalators and tourists. On the SNCF train to Chartres i got locked in the toilets and after banging on the door for five minutes i got rescued by a French guy who prized the door open, this was slightly embarrassing.
My first night in France was in my tent in pouring rain behind some tall bushes. In the field next door a couple of hundred meters away a farmer was out shooting rabbits or as i thought trespassers. I kept my head down and hoped his dog didn't smell me, i survived my first night.
The first few days i had no petrol for my stove ( no petrol or bombs allowed on Euro Star ) and because i didn't know how to use the credit card system at the pump station. Instead i used my emergency wood burning stove. Bit of a novelty that stove but it worked a treat. Won't bring it next time though.
After a few days cycling i started getting a sore backside so in a town called Lusigan i went to a Pharmacy to get some cream. Two pretty young girls behind the counter didn't speak English, so having left my "Point it" traveller's picture guide book at home i had to use good old fashion hand gestures. Once they picked themselves up off the floor with laughter i got a tube of something they suggested, probably Imac and left.
That night i camped by a river in the towns municipal campsite for 4.90 Euros which was really nice.
On the 5th May five days after starting i accidently wiped my cycle computer clean whilst checking it it on the move, what a fool! Later that day i ran over a snake who hadn't heard of the Green Cross Code. Better dead than in my tent i thought. I named him Sid and took his picture before giving him a roadside burial, tossing him into the bushes.
I managed to cycle over 100 kilometers to reach Saintes by the end of the day, a first for me. Kilometers sound much better than miles when you tell people how far you've gone and a lot quicker to do.
From Saintes to Montendre i cycled into strong headwinds all day which was pretty uncomfortable. A local policeman pointed me in the the direction of Twin Lakes Campsite run by an ex squaddie and his partner. It was a great site with two big lakes full of Carp and the like. I saw this youngster catch a great big fish with a piece of bread on his first cast before screaming for his dad's help to stop him being dragged into the water. On the site they were really nice and let me sleep in the TV room when this whopper of a black cloud headed our way. They also had cold Stella on draught in the bar, that was free when i explained that i was doing the Caminio to raise money for Help for Heroes. The owner Gary also kindly offered free holiday's on his site in some of the mobile homes to recovering servicemen either side of the peak season. I thought this was a kind gesture and promised to pass it on to H4H when i return to the UK.
Next morning, Paul a worker on the site cooked me the full English with mugs of tea, waived the site fee and i set off for the ferry at Blaye.
Got my first puncture on a roundabout in Bordeaux.
Wild camped at a Ball Trap shooting club just outside Morcenais which had closed down.
Rode through the Forest of de Gascogne where i saw a stack of logs as high as a house, the width of two football pitches and as far as the eye could see. I took pictures but they didn't work.
I got a fit of sneezing one day from hay fever which zapped me of all my energy, must drink more beer to build i back up i thought.
Camped in a site at Peyrehorade where the owner gave me a cold bottle of beer when i arrived for free, starting to warm to the French.
Heading into the hills now toward the Pyrenees and the riding is getting a little harder.
I met a German Cyclist called Helmut when i stopped for lunch. He was a bike mechanic on a sabbatical and took up the slack on my chain. He also came over with his water bottle full of baby wild strawberries that he had picked along the way and offered me a big spoonful. I ate them and he then asked me what they tasted like. When i said they were nice he had some himself. He just used me as a guinea pig i thought, cheeky bugger. Poor old Helmut, he had his camera and mobile phone nicked at a campsite so i took some pix for him to send on later. His filling fell out of his tooth later that day and he went in search of a dentist. I didn't see him after that.
Got to St Jean Pied de Port which was the half way marked for me. I was the first up at the campsite in the morning but last to leave as i cooked another fry up of local bacon ( not like the good old British Danish bacon ) and tomatoes.
I was a bit disappointed as i rode 18 miles in 3 and half hours uphill into the Pyrenees. Nothing saying welcome to Spain and no border control to get my passport stamped. As i slugged away towards the top at a snails pace with all my gear i was just about to reach the peak when Hertz this Dutch cyclist went passed me just before the top and said "Beat You" in kinda kids way. Your welcome i thought as i nearly collapsed at the top. He declined my offer of a rematch at the bar when got to the next town.
Got to Cizor Menor and to an Albergue ( cheap pilgrims accommodation ). The owner was quite rude, said it was full and turned me away. I ate in a restaurant and headed into the dusk to find a farmers field to camp for the night. It was an uncomfortable nights sleep as i was sticky with sweat and hadn't filled my 10 ltr water bag up to wash with.
Camped near Domingo next to road works. The site put me next the the camp gas bottle which was fine until during the night there was thunder and lightning. At least it will be quick i thought.
My sore bum returned in the form of a boil which was pretty painful. I couldn't see whether it was ripe enough for bursting so using my skills as a photographer i, being careful not to include any unwanted baggage, took a picture of it on my compact camera. Not ready yet so i put a plaster on it.
Think it's about the 16th May and after too many beers last night i am having a half rest day. After bacon, mushrooms and toms i cycled to Carrion de los Condes with the wind mostly on my back. What a treat when the wind is in your favor, i kept turning round and going back a few meters into the wind and back again with it just to let myself know how lucky i was.
In Carrion de los Condes i booked into an old church Albergue for 5 Euros and went out for dinner. I queued at a restaurant where the menu of the day was 10 Euros for 3 courses and a bottle of house red thrown in. As it was packed and i was on my own i was invited to join 3 pilgrim walkers from the Netherlands at their table. They spoke good English, as they should, and we were getting on great. I told them i was a photographer and they were keen to see what pix i had taken from the trip. I gladly handed over my camera to them completely forgetting about the pictures of Billy the boil. I realized to late when the roars of laughter nearly took the roof off the restaurant. Then it was a mad scramble to get the camera back as they passed it to one another like kids in the playground. I have since deleted the pix and vowed to be more careful when i document my showering whilst wild camping.
Didn't get much sleep in the church Albergue, everybody snoring and coughing. The walkers get up at 5.30am to crack on with the day. I got some sleep from about 7pm till 9pm when they all left.
I have discovered Tortilla and coffee with milk to be my favorite breakfast in Spain. Potatoes with onion and eggs, i would stop whenever i saw it sold in the mornings and it kept me going till about 10.30am when i was hungry again.
I stopped at a shop in a town for fruit ( yuk ) and when the shop assistant saw the bike and H4H flag on the back and i told them what the charity was they didn't charge me for the apple and two bananas i tried to buy. I'll have try that in the butchers i thought.
Booked into an Albergue up in the hills at Rabanel del Camino. With dinner i had a bottle of wine. After at the bar i was drinking with some American chaps and had 5 beers and two big glasses of local cognac. Gotta good nights sleep that night for sure.
Head a bit wooly in the morning but set off for the highest point of the ride. Knackered at the top but the 5 kilometers downhill was superb, best part of the trip so far. Later that day i hit a second hill which i can only describe as the hill from hell. Not only was it hard but it rained on me all day. Got to a village called O'Cebreiro up above the clouds at 8pm in the evening totally knackered.
Next morning the views were to die for. Mountain peaks ( floating islands ) poking through the top of the clouds which i looked down on. At the top i saw another cyclist called Martin that i had met previously and nicknamed The Flying Dutchman because he was so fast on the bike. We took some pix before setting off downhill. I thought i was doing well catching him ( Martin ) up every couple of days until i found out he was finishing at about 2pm each day and having the odd rest day. I cycled down through the clouds which was amazing.
When i was riding through France i found treasure on the roadside as i had my head down pounding away at the peddles. The treasure was in the form of a cheque book ( found on one road ) and a purse with several cheques made out to someone along with some credit cards ( found on another road ). I handed them in at a bank and Mayors office. Not much treasure in Spain apart from a cycle glove i found on the road. I put it under a bungee and when i got to the next town for the evening and booked in to an Albergure for the night i stuck it on the top of my flag for people to see. It belonged to the cyclist husband of a French couple who were staying there too. "Incredible" "Incredible" his 67 year old ( but still reasonably fit for her age ) cyclist wife kept saying in a French accent.
Finally i reached Santiago on 21st May after 21 days cycling. Got a tourist to take a poor picture of me with most of my head missing in front of the cathedral and went to the office to get my certificate for completing the Camino, queuing for half an hour to get it.
The campsite in Santiago is up the highest hill in the city about 3k outside, i pushed the bike up.
Took some pictures in the town and went for dinner with The Flying Dutchman and his girlfriend who had flown in to meet him. As Martin had been in Santiago for a couple of days before me he had sussed out the best places to eat and the 3 of us went to a local Spanish bar on the edge of the tourist area. The food was great and wine even better, we filled up on 12 plate of food and drunk red and white wine for 40 Euros between us.
I was now finished but being cocky decided to try and cycle back a different way to Bilbao up through the Camino North route which takes you through the hills or mountains as i called them. I had ran out of maps so Martin let me have his as he was going home by plane.
I camped in a field next to a wood away from everything. Good place to do the shower pic which worked a treat and is now in the safe at home and deleted from the camera. I got as far a Lugo and headed towards Oviedo.
Put tent up at the back of an Albergue as there was no room inside. Went for a drink in a bar and in Spain in some places you buy a drink and they put a plate of food in front of you. Your suppose to take one piece of food like a sausage of something per drink that you buy. No one told me and i tucked in. I thought i was gonna get lynched by the locals and barmaid with the looks i got.
The hills were now getting to me and i was thinking of throwing the towel in but i kept thinking, remember who this is for. Didn't matter anyway as anything after Santiago was a bonus.
Got to Grandas de Slime and saw a dam for the first time. Climbed a big hill for a couple of hours until i found a flat spot and wild camped above the road out of site.
Next day i found a flatter but busier route which was great. Camped by a river which was fantastic. Got in my bag thinking i hope the river isn't tidal or there are no flash floods up stream. Still after a bottle Tinto i didn't care and anyway it would have been easier for the recovery team as i was already bagged up.
Got to Oviedo on the 28th and my legs were now officially dead. Stayed in an Albergue for the night and got the train to Santander the following afternoon.
Six hours the train took to Santander, almost as slow as i could have cycled.
Stayed two nights at a camp site in Santander then set off for Bilbao to get the ferry.
Stayed at a beachside campsite in Isla. It was empty apart from a couple of people.
The owner couldn't speak English so we communicated with our hands. After showing me where put my tent up i gestured where to pay. He pointed at the closed supermarket that was onsite. I pointed at my watch to ask what time it opened. He made a sleep gesture to say it was now closed for the night then held up one hand showing his five fingers. In the other hand he held up just four fingers, hiding his thumb, but his index finger was half missing at the joint from some previous accident. I couldn't help myself, so knowing he knew no English i said "Oh i see it opens at 8.30am in the morning". "Ze ze" he said without realizing the joke. That made me chuckle all night.
I left Isla in torrential rain and cycled 61 miles to Bilbao. My Gortex wet suit worked a treat at keeping me dry but my gloves with over mitts and shoe covers did not. I was holding my arms up every 10 minutes to let the water out of the so called waterproof mitts. Although a wet miserable day i quite enjoyed it, at least it wasn't to cold. I got to Bilbao only to find i had missed the ferry and the next one was 4 days away.
The next morning i got the train back to Santander for 8 Euros and went back the the campsite. I booked the ferry for the next day to take me to Portsmouth.
My last meal in Spain before i left was a spicy kebab and glass of beer served in a back street shop in Santander.
Would i do the ride again? Yes definitely. It would be nice to do it with someone else or a small group as some of the views are to good to keep to yourself, and I'm not talking about boils and showering.
I was amazed at how quickly i could shake off a hangover, it was like being 20 again. I put this down to the fitness level i was keeping up each day.
I had two sets of cycle clothes. Each night i would wash the clothes i wore that day and dry them on the back of the bike the next day.
I am now back in the UK. If you would like to donate then please go to: http://www.bmycharity.com/CaminodeSantiago
Many thanks,
Peter.
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