October 10, 2015
Piddling Down: Campsite to Figuero Dos Vinhos.
There had been the patter of light rain early on. But on first emerging from the tent, the ground is dry, so all is forgiven.
Later though, having breakfasted, there's the light rumbling patter again. I get out to do something with the bike and see a two tone world of dull green and dirty grey, with a persistent horizontal drizzle falling.
Back in the tent I prepare for the worse, packing the panniers and putting on my raincoat. Then open the tent and throw the panniers out. Its so long since I've had to take down the tent in rain, but I never forget the misery.
And once I've rolled the tent up wet, packed it away and have everything on the bike ready to leave, I feel so vulnerable to the elements. Its raw. There's no shelter as the drizzle continues with no sign that it'll ease anytime soon.
At least the road on climbs for a bit, warming me up. But then comes a hideous long steep descend. The last thing I need in such foul weather, not least because I'm hoping my brake-pads will last until I find a bike shop in Madrid that'll have the right pads, a bike shop I'll have to find anyway to get a bike box to pack the bike for my flight.
The road just goes down, I estimate the gradient is around nine or ten per cent so I've to keep applying the brakes, making a sharp squeal as the soaking road become the soggy brakes, as grit and water gets all over my nice new cassette and chain, as each hairpin bend I round, brings another downhill straight to the next bend.
Eventually in a deep dark wooded gorge and dull and misty over the treetops, the road levels and crosses over a bridge and so starts a long climb, which I don't mind so much, as at least it warms me up and it doesn't have a detrimental effect on my brakes.
The urban area of Figuero Dos Vinhos seems a long ride until I see some village or other ahead through the corridor of trees, as the rain persists in falling in fine but very wetting drizzle. The whole shy a uniform dirty grey and the pine trees to the side almost black. Then what a relieve to pass a signboard: Figuero Dos Vinhos.
I make for a pasteleria.
Well, I've had coffee and have eaten three custard tarts. I've used the wifi and been here an hour and a half. The place lively at eleven when I first entered, is now emptying out. And still it's raining.
The rain eases about one and I leave and go and find an ATM. Then a street along from the bank, see a sign for: Hotel Rural.
It is thirty-five euros a night, breakfast included.
I spend the rest of the day hold up, working on this journal while it continues raining.
Next morning nothing has changed. I can hear the rain even before getting out of bed.
At least the breakfast is good: a buffet, as much as I can eat, which is as well since the only supermarket it would seem is out of town and apart from Pastelerias (pastry shops cum cafes) there seems to be no restaurant. And so, without eating anything substantial yesterday, Is hungry this morning.
The other guests are a middle age English couple, perspective house buyers with a list of houses to view today.
There's no way I'm going anywhere in this weather. In bouts its chucking it down. Therefore the only recourse is another night here.
Today's ride: 16 km (10 miles)
Total: 11,000 km (6,831 miles)
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