This trip is a repeat of last year’s visit to Portugal. I enjoyed the company, the riding and the food & lodgings so much I thought I’d go again. And I’m not the only one, my mate Phil from Wales is going to, so we won’t be short on jokes and tall tales!
Last year there were only 4 ‘punters’ so keeping together wasn’t an issue. This time there’s 10. Hopefully we’ll all be of a similar standard and able to keep the group moving at a reasonable pace. I’m also hoping that this year we won’t have as much rain as last year, which washed out a number of the days forcing us off the twisty mountain roads and onto boring motorways. [If you never saw my trip report last year you’ll find it here. ]
As you’d expect I’ll be bristling with technology as I travel! My GPS will talk Bluetooth to my phone allowing me to take calls as I ride (don’t worry I won’t be using this). The GPS will also be playing me a random selection of 600 mp3s I’ve carefully selected whilst also warning about speed scammeras. I’ve got the whole route loaded so if it turns out I’m the slow one (some chance!) I can still find my way back to the hotel bar. I’m even WiFi enabled with GPRS failover…….
Unlike last year when I took a big waterproof bag, this time I’m taking my panniers. They got so beaten up in Morocco that I’m a lot less precious about them now. [Didn’t read about my Morocco trip? Shame on you, grab a big mug of coffee, some hobnobs and download the pdf here. I also got the pannier inner bags from Santa last year so it’s easier to carry stuff around.
Day1 - Smooth Waters
The ride down to Plymouth to catch the ferry was uneventfull. I'd arranged to meet Phil (the joke telling Welshman) and Julian (the trip leader) at Exeter services. I arrived first and whilst waiting at the petrol station got chatting to a guy on his way to Morocco. Talking to him about his route brought back some good memories.
Phil rolled up a few minutes later shortly followed by Julian. It was great to see them both and we were soon joking about last year's trip.
After a burger and a coffee we headed off to Plymouth to meet the rest of the guys. This year there are twelve people including Julian, two of whom booked after reading my trip report. I shall have to discuss commissions!
We managed to make it on to the ferry without losing anyone and were soon all in the bar ready for Julian's briefing. Phil was on top form telling us about Pavarotti's funeral. He was saying that Pavarotti had been cremated in a giant microwave because, technically, it's not over till the fat man pings......
The group is a real mixed bunch. There's a 747 pilot so I can talk QNH & QFE's with him as well as guys from as far afield as Scotland and Guernsey. One of the guys from Guernsey is a coastguard, the other is in finance. He could turn out to be a Merchant Banker.
The evening got messy with too much beer and wine. What did me in though was the Pina Calada nightcap Phil insisted we had!
Watching the acts in the caberet bar it was good to see that there were job prospects for those entertainers that can't pass the Butlins or local pub auditions.
Waking the next day I had a thick head and my throat felt like I'd eaten my pillow during the night.
A slap up breakfast soon got me functioning and it wasn't long till we were packing our gear to leave the ferry. The crossing had been really smooth, the only wobling around was all self inflicted!
Day 2 - Repositioning
The first day's ride after leaving the ferry at midday is a long slog down to Guarda in Portugal.
Getting off the boat took an age, but we managed to stay together and were soon on our way south. Being firm believers in the EU and knowing in our hearts that we all share a European heritage we decided it was only right to adopt German speed limits for the day. This helped us get to the hotel bar at a much more civilized time.
The ride was fairly monotonus motorway only interrupted by heavy rain.
We had split into two groups during the ride as some wanted to have more stops. However, we were all in the hotel bar by early evening eager for food.
The starters were a variety of dishes one of which turned out to be pigs ears. I can't say I enjoyed them. They were fairly tasteless with a thin strip of crunchy cartlidge running though them.
Washed them away with a couple of beers. Have a sore throat and think I'm coming down with something.
Day 3 - Bushwacked!
Today the fun part of the holiday starts in earnest. A morning riding some superb twisty roads into the mountains and then an afternoon off-road.
Leaving Guarda the air was cool and there was some mist on the hills. It did not take long for the sun to burn off the mist and make the riding conditions ideal. It also didn't take too long for Julian to pull us all up and tell us to ride further apart. It was a fair shout. It's one thing riding through bends at 60 2 feet from a guy you've ridden with for years and another with some bloke you met on the ferry yesterday.
We carried on the fabulous tarmac before having coffee in a village on the edge of the mountains. Then it was off to drop our luggage and have lunch at a hotel we will stay at later in the week. They then transport it to the hotel where we will stay in Coimbra tonight.
At the ferry briefing Julian had mentioned that there would be smaller lunches as a big lunch didn't help when off-road riding. This clearly had been lost in translation as plate after plate of food arrived.
As we finished lunch a few spots of rain began to fall from a very black thundercloud [I had warned Julian about the cold front running in off the Atlantic]. We decided to get on the road and just about kept ahead of it. We met up with our guides for the off-road section as well as a Portuguese journalist that Julian knows who is writing about our trip and also about a new BMW bike that they have loaned him.
Then it was off into the hills in two groups. The trails were as stunning as ever, but this year there was so much more dust. All of a sudden following the rider ahead of you could often be treacherous as the visibility sometimes completely disappeared.
As the afternoon wore on we found ourselves at a village waiting for the other group to arrive. As we waited a lady came out with a tray of beers for us and her son started to take us on at table football. He sent most of the group packing, but he wasn't ready for 'ratchet wrist Davies'. A comprehensive 10-8 victory took him down a peg or two. I do feel it's worth getting children used to defeat at an early age....
When the other group appeared we set off and ended up at a motocross track where Alex (a Portuguese guide) demonstrated some of his skills. Eager to show that what he could do on a 400CC motocrosser I could do on a 1200CC lump of German engineering I hit the first jump a bit fast. I was impressed with the amount of air I got. I was even impressed with my landing. The lads were then impressed with the way the handlebars turned in their mounts from being above the tank to resembling a pair of clip-ons below the tank.
Still travelling at around 20mph they were even more impressed at how I flew off of the raised bank back down on the the track and how, lying flat on the tank, I shot off into the bushes.
It took three guys to pull the bike out. It should have taken less, but they were having trouble standing due to the amount of laughter!
We tightened the bars and headed off. It wasn't long before there had been a couple of extra prangs, one of which hurt the rider (Marshall from Scotland).
Back at the hotel, battered and bruised, it was a quick was and brush up before heading out for an Argentinian meal. This consisted of being fed meat (mainly cow) till your body could take no more. It was delicious.
A quick drink in the bar and then tired bodies were dragged off to bed.
Day 4 - Oh to be 10 years younger!
The morning dawned fair but with a stiff breeze. After a light breakfast we headed out to meet up with the guides, Alex & José. The road took us alongside a river. I'd riden it last year when it was busy with traffic and not much fun. Because of some roadworks in one section most of the local traffic was avoiding the route and we made good time hustling the bikes from bend to bend.
The 'advanced' group had shrunk to 5 today. The motley crew of Phil, Simon, Jim, Martin and myself headed off with our glorious leader Alex.
The trails were still dry and dusty as we climbed up though the many eucalyptus(?) groves. We soon found that as a group we were a riding a similar pace and so didn't have to do much sitting around for others.
As the morning got hotter and dustier fatigue began to set in. This wasn't helped by still feeling a bit under the weather. Water was being consumed at a copious rate and sweated soon after.
Simon and Jim were reveling in spinning up their rear wheels and leaving the trail covered in dust. Both are used to riding on the beaches in Guernsey and are used to the feeling of the bike moving under them. I'm not so keen. We did take turns at the front so they did get to 'eat my dust' from time to time.
Midway through the morning we visited a river than ran through a steep walled gorge. It was an idilic location with dragonflies buzzing around and many bright blue butterflies. I sploshed out into the stream to get a good picture and almost went a over t on some mossy rocks. That would have amused the guys.
We briefly met up with the other group before putting in some more hard riding before lunch. By the time we got to the café for lunch we were all looking a bit worse for wear.
With sandwiches and soup inside (and a beer in my case), we headed back out. Alex took us to a steep climb that I'd only just managed last year. Whilst not the longest climb on the holiday it was consistantly steep for a long time. I set off at the rear of the pack and managed to knock the bike back into first going over a big bump. This almost unseated me but I managed to hang on.
Having sorted myself out I was soon at the top of the slope nursing aching arms. Alex decided that what goes up must come down and started back down. We felt more dubious. Holding the throttle open and hanging on for your life is one thing, but contolling the speed going down with all the weight on your arms and the tyres scrabbling for grip is another.
After a long descent on a narrow track with long grass, brambles and washed out sections we were all feeling tired. Luckily, after completing a tricky, steep descent over loose shale to a road bridge, Alex got called away to assist the other group. As we heard him tear off through the trees we were all glad to get a rest. Unfortunately he was back within 10 minutes racing down the shale slope as if it was tarmac. We joked that we could hear his phone ringing and perhaps he should go back again!
He realised we were getting tired and so started the route home. This still seemed to involve a lot of trails though!
Meeting Julian and the rest of the group we rode some fantastic tarmac roads before arriving in Coimbra early evening. Marshall had been to seen a doctor and had an x-ray. His collar bone is broken in two places so he'll be doing no more riding.
Dinner was at a nice Italian resturant on the riverside before taking a taxi ride with an Alonso wannabe at the wheel back to the hotel. Retired feeling very worn with muscles aching that I didn't know I had.
Day 5 - Hill Tops and Slippery Bends
The morning dawned bright and sunny and looked set fair for a good day's riding. Breakfast was a bit subdued, partly because everyone was still tired, partly because everyone was maxed out on ibuprofen to counter the aches and partly because we knew we'd be saying farewell to Marshall when we left.
Before leaving the hotel in Coimbra we assembled all the bikes in front of the hotel and took a picture with the riders on the steps. This was similar to a picture we took last year, but this time there were many more bikes.
We stopped at a petrol station on the way out of town to fuel up and while we waited for one guy to get more painkillers I showed a couple of the guys my Zumo sat nav and what it could do. I've been riding with it on the bike to record the various routes we taken. It'll be interesting (well to me anyway) to see the range we covered on the various days once I'm home. Both Simon and Jim thought the unit was great and look set to purchase, so if you're reading this Mr Garmin, a free Mapsource upgrade would be nice!
We rode for around 20 minutes to meet the guides and then set off for the trails. We were told that today's ride would be on some of the larger trails at the top of the mountains. As we made our way up the slopes Alex stopped to show us a section of hillside used as an enduro course. It was hard to believe the slopes could be ridden, but Alex showed us what could be done with years of off-road practice and made it look easy. Swine.
As we got to the mountain tops there are large tracks made by the company that service the wind turbines that grace the ridges. The monster windmills are so impressive close up, their hi-tech blades slicing through the steady breeze with a wonderful sound. The roads, however, I don't like. Whilst they may be wide they're covered with a gravel like stone which causes the bike to move underneath you.
Once again Jim & Simon, the sand specialists, were in their element sliding the bikes into the bends on the back brake before powering out scattering gravel everywhere. There were still plenty of other rocky tracks during the day which were great. There were also a some tricky descents with loose rocks and washed out sections - all good to keep the pulse up.
We also visited the runway on top of one of the hills, where we all saw how fast we could get the bikes to go and I practiced some amateur wheelies.
Shortly before lunch we stopped a mountain top for a group photo. And then we headed to a restaurant for lunch. We'd met the owner last year, a grumpy old bar steward who gets really upset if you don't eat all the food. A lunch of grilled meats with bread and olives was eagerly devoured.
During the afternoon we worked our way back towards our new hotel (our bags having been taken from the previous hotel by van). One long climb, navigating switchback after switchback had us all sucking in big lungfulls of air by the top, but the views from the fire observation station at the top made it all worth while.
After a short, but tricky in places, descent we hit tarmac which then carried us (bumpily in places) back to the hotel. An excellent evening meal was had with Phil having us all in stitches with his classic dwarf joke and many others. It goes without saying that this much laughing is only safe on a well lubricated throat.
[A guy is in a bar chatting to the barman when suddenly he goes white as a sheet. The barman asks if there's a problem and the chap says that his Mrs has just walked in with his mistress. The barman looks up and then looks back at the chap the colour also draining from his face. "Small world isn't it" he says... - I thank you Mr Saunders]
Day 6 - What a bunch of Prankers!
The morning dawned misty and cool. There had been a good storm in the night with spectacular lightning, power cuts and a reasonable amount of rain. At least I wouldn't be chewing Simon & Jim's dust all day!
I had a problem to sort out first though. The previous afternoon some of the group had noticed that my brake light was on constantly. This seemed to be to do with the front brake lever assembly. The light being on was fairly minor, the bigger issue was that it also activated the brake servo circuit. Left to run constantly the servo could overheat or have a problem.
Once I started looking at the problem it gave everyone else the excuse to get their tool kits out. Soon we had a number of guys helping diagnose the fault. It transpired to be microswitch that was not closing to cut the servo/brake light circuit.
A bit of tinkering and fetling resolved the problem and everyone was happy that they hadn't carried their tool kits all the way to Portugal for nothing! And so we were now ready for our last morning off-road.
Jim, Simon & Phil had booked road tyres to be fitted after the morning session so they were up for wearing their knobblies out as much as possible. Our guides, Alex & José, had spent the night at the hotel so we were on the trails quickly.
There was only one group of riders today as some had decided not to tempt fate on the last off-road day. The tracks were wide and fast with only the occasional rocky section. Many were even shown on my Zumo.
Speeds began to grow, particularly on one section used by the Portugal rally. Everyone was pushing that little bit harder.
Coming round a bend on one rocky section the road had a large gully formed by the rain. Phil made the mistake of looking at it and so ended up heading for it. He managed to stay on but did have plough through some small shrubs!
Stopping further down the track the tail enders failed to appear. It was obvious someone (captain slow) had found the gully. They say that idle hands do the devil's work, and so it was that we came up with the idea of faking a crash scene.
We had waited at a junction in the trail after a long downhill section. The first gum tree at the junction was growing from its base in a V shape. Phil decided to be the victim, so we wedged his bike into the V, scraped away a long skid mark and Phil lay on the ground further ahead. Myself and a couple of the other guys gathered around him looking concerned.
We heard the sound of a scrambler coming down the track and so it was action stations. It turned out to be Julian, whose face drained of colour as he pulled up. He soon realized it was a scam and we reset for our intended victim Alex - the guide and nurse.
As he approached I started waving franticly. He was off his bike before it stopped leaving it on its side and swinging the medi-pack off his back. One of the group managed "we haven't moved him because he says his back hurts" without bursting into laughter.
Kneeling at Phil's head Alex began to suspect the crash scene. Maybe the heather wedged into Phil's backpack wasn't quite realistic! Phil opened an eye and a cheeky grin appeared on the Welshman's face. Alex realized he'd been had good and proper. Grabbing some wood he chased us around trying to inflict some real injuries!
Tempting fate is a risky business though as Phil discovered less than 200m further down the track. Coming round a bend there was a big mud puddle and Phil came off right in the middle of it. The man upstairs must have been grinning.
Phil was not the only one to get muddy. Jim had a spectacular off that is on video, so his embarrassment can live forever on UTube!
After lunch I said my goodbyes to Alex and José and headed back to the hotel on my own relying on sat nav. It had started raining and sat nav decided to take me through forest trails that were slippy and wet. Still I came here for the off-roading!
Day 7 - Twist and Shout
Today's ride took us northwest to Porto. Last year this had been a miserable ride in the rain and we had used the motorway to save time. The forecast was for blue skies, but as we packed the bikes there was a thick blanket of radiation fog lying in the valley below.
As we started our ride descended into the fog. Its damp chill made me wonder if I should have put my fleece on. There was no time to worry about the cold as the roads opened up with sweeping bend after bend.
Eventually we broke out of the top of the mirk and I took a track to gain some extra height and take a picture of the fog laying like a roll of cotton wool in the creases of the landscape.
By the time we stopped for coffee the day was warming rapidly so I filled my Camelbak. Julian warned us that the next section was very twisty with tricky cambers. Julian hustled us to finish our drinks and I dropped into position three as we headed for the hills.
The road was amazing. Bends of every shape and size all covered in superbly grippy flawless asphalt. The constant acceleration, braking and flicking the bike from side to side soon had the arms aching.
After around 50 miles we stopped for fuel, all of us wearing ear to ear smiles. Getting back on the bike I tried to take a drink from my Camelbak only to discover it wasn't there. I'd left it at the coffee stop!
Knowing where the hotel was in Porto I said I'd meet the guys later and turned round. I'd just have to do all the bends again, twice!
The knobbly tyres were going to get really hot and sticky. It's amazing how much road grip they actually give.
I made it to the hotel at 6 and grabbed a qick shower before hitting the town with the boys for an authentic Portugese meal. I didn't bother with the pigs ears!
A few beers bird watching on the riverside rounded off a cracking day.
Day 8 - Top of the world Ma
Salamanca in Spain was today's destination. Our route took us along the Duoro valley before hearing south to visit Portugal's highest mountain.
Once again the weather was fine and dry. Soon we were sweeping through the country roads at our usual autobahn speeds. Blasting down a hill I thought I'd nip past a couple of cars only to realise that the reason they were going so slow was because the front car was a police car!
Slamming on the anchors, the knobblies struggling for grip and the back sliding out, I put a good show on for the boys behind. I'm fairly sure Mr Plod would have seen my antics in his mirrors, but he luckily didn't take exception.
Some of the group took shorter routes to Salamanca, but Phil, Jim, Chris & I went with Julian and a chap called Antonio to the mountain top. It was stunning.
Near the summit we stopped for some photos and Phil decided to tempt fate. First he drove his bike off road so he could get a picture of it near the mountain edge. Then he got the little red devil out to star in the picture. Now that devil has got us into all sorts of trouble before, so it was no surprise when Phil fell off trying to get his bike back up to the car park.
It was a proper fall too! The back roll down the hill gave Phil full artistic impression scores and managing to leave the bike with the wheels higher than the tank ensured a good technical merit mark. We took copious photos before offering to help pick it up.
The road down was really tight and twisty. Antonio who was riding a BMW road bike took the lead and showed us how it should be done, hanging his backside off the bike in the tight bends. I was quite pleased as to how well I kept up on knobblies. There was the odd sphyncter clenching moment, but it's all part of the fun!
At the bottom of the mountain we said goodbye to Antonio and headed up the motorway to Salamanca, 2 and a bit hours away.
After checking into the hotel it was a quick triple S, and then we were all in the main square blowing the froth off a couple of cold ones. We decided it would be rude not to re-visit the Irish bar where it all got a bit messy last year. And guess what, it got messy again!
It's hard to say if it was the atmosphere, the beer or the godess behind the bar that made us stay. Probably the latter!
Unable to drink any more beer we went on to shorts. Things got even messier......
Day 9 - Autopilot Engaged
I blundered into conciousness as my alarm went off. I was still fully clothed and had just collapsed onto the bed with all the lights on. It then slowly dawned on me that, somehow, through the mother of all hangovers I had to ride to Santander.
What made things even worse was that I had forgotten to set my alarm to Spanish time so I now had 15 minutes to be on the bike!
As I struggled into the garage those sensible enough not to have gone to bed at 3am were already pulling out. Ramming everything onto the bike I tried to hold them up as little as possible.
Breakfast consisted of a few gulps of yesterday's Camelbak water, now tepid and tasting of plastic. Quality.
Fueled up we were soon heading north, many of us running on full autopilot and slowly recovering from yesterday's excesses. The air had a definite hint of autumn about it as the sun struggled to warm the day.
After a couple of fuel and coffee stops we arrived in Santander. The main drag down to the ferry port was packed with traffic all jostling for any tiny gap. As we weaved our way through the cars one of Julian's panniers (probably the one full of smelly shreddies) decided it could take no more and just fell off.
With cars swerving to avoid it Jim showed excellent motorcycle football skills by kicking it into the kerb. It now looks decidedly second hand. We were just thankful that it hadn't jumped ship when we were blasting up the motorway. Coming across a tumbling case when riding on autopilot could have been catastrophic. Coming across a pair of Julian's crusty undies would have been fatal!
We loaded the bikes onto the ferry and the word began to get round that there was a force 8 in the channel. As I write the ship is crashing through big swells in the Bay of Buscay. Let's hope the big bloatar is OK and strapped down well.
Day 10 - Home Sweet Home
Sleep was intermittent to say the least. With every wave the ferry crashed through the ship shuddered and car alarms started sounding. Sleeping on the top bunk I was very conscious that it would be easy to fall.
In the early hours the seas calmed a bit and I managed some sleep, spread out like a fat starfish to avoid any rolling. At breakfast the rest of the motley crew began to surface. Jim and Simon, being both nautical chaps, were doing fine. Julian and Chris were fairing badly. Neither had eaten since Santander and one wasn't drinking either. The announcement that the ship would be docking late due to the weather didn't raise their spirits.
The bikes were fine when we came to retrieve them and we rode out of Plymouth in much cooler air than we'd become accustomed to over the previous days. We'd arranged to meet at the Exeter services before going our separate ways. Thunder clouds dotted the sky and every now and then there would be a cloudburst.
After a burger and saying our goodbyes we all headed to our respective homes. I donned my wet weather gear and it was not long till I needed it. Indeed I seemed to find a whole heap of weather on my way home. The hailstones bouncing off my helmet in a freezing microburst was probably my favorite!
And so ends another little adventure. It was an absolute pleasure to get to know all the guys on the trip. It'd be good to think we may get together again. Phil and I are already talking obout future adventures.
I hope you've enjoyed my capers and thanks for reading. Till next time!
Last year there were only 4 ‘punters’ so keeping together wasn’t an issue. This time there’s 10. Hopefully we’ll all be of a similar standard and able to keep the group moving at a reasonable pace. I’m also hoping that this year we won’t have as much rain as last year, which washed out a number of the days forcing us off the twisty mountain roads and onto boring motorways. [If you never saw my trip report last year you’ll find it here. ]
As you’d expect I’ll be bristling with technology as I travel! My GPS will talk Bluetooth to my phone allowing me to take calls as I ride (don’t worry I won’t be using this). The GPS will also be playing me a random selection of 600 mp3s I’ve carefully selected whilst also warning about speed scammeras. I’ve got the whole route loaded so if it turns out I’m the slow one (some chance!) I can still find my way back to the hotel bar. I’m even WiFi enabled with GPRS failover…….
Unlike last year when I took a big waterproof bag, this time I’m taking my panniers. They got so beaten up in Morocco that I’m a lot less precious about them now. [Didn’t read about my Morocco trip? Shame on you, grab a big mug of coffee, some hobnobs and download the pdf here. I also got the pannier inner bags from Santa last year so it’s easier to carry stuff around.
Day1 - Smooth Waters
The ride down to Plymouth to catch the ferry was uneventfull. I'd arranged to meet Phil (the joke telling Welshman) and Julian (the trip leader) at Exeter services. I arrived first and whilst waiting at the petrol station got chatting to a guy on his way to Morocco. Talking to him about his route brought back some good memories.
Phil rolled up a few minutes later shortly followed by Julian. It was great to see them both and we were soon joking about last year's trip.
After a burger and a coffee we headed off to Plymouth to meet the rest of the guys. This year there are twelve people including Julian, two of whom booked after reading my trip report. I shall have to discuss commissions!
We managed to make it on to the ferry without losing anyone and were soon all in the bar ready for Julian's briefing. Phil was on top form telling us about Pavarotti's funeral. He was saying that Pavarotti had been cremated in a giant microwave because, technically, it's not over till the fat man pings......
The group is a real mixed bunch. There's a 747 pilot so I can talk QNH & QFE's with him as well as guys from as far afield as Scotland and Guernsey. One of the guys from Guernsey is a coastguard, the other is in finance. He could turn out to be a Merchant Banker.
The evening got messy with too much beer and wine. What did me in though was the Pina Calada nightcap Phil insisted we had!
Watching the acts in the caberet bar it was good to see that there were job prospects for those entertainers that can't pass the Butlins or local pub auditions.
Waking the next day I had a thick head and my throat felt like I'd eaten my pillow during the night.
A slap up breakfast soon got me functioning and it wasn't long till we were packing our gear to leave the ferry. The crossing had been really smooth, the only wobling around was all self inflicted!
Day 2 - Repositioning
The first day's ride after leaving the ferry at midday is a long slog down to Guarda in Portugal.
Getting off the boat took an age, but we managed to stay together and were soon on our way south. Being firm believers in the EU and knowing in our hearts that we all share a European heritage we decided it was only right to adopt German speed limits for the day. This helped us get to the hotel bar at a much more civilized time.
The ride was fairly monotonus motorway only interrupted by heavy rain.
We had split into two groups during the ride as some wanted to have more stops. However, we were all in the hotel bar by early evening eager for food.
The starters were a variety of dishes one of which turned out to be pigs ears. I can't say I enjoyed them. They were fairly tasteless with a thin strip of crunchy cartlidge running though them.
Washed them away with a couple of beers. Have a sore throat and think I'm coming down with something.
Day 3 - Bushwacked!
Today the fun part of the holiday starts in earnest. A morning riding some superb twisty roads into the mountains and then an afternoon off-road.
Leaving Guarda the air was cool and there was some mist on the hills. It did not take long for the sun to burn off the mist and make the riding conditions ideal. It also didn't take too long for Julian to pull us all up and tell us to ride further apart. It was a fair shout. It's one thing riding through bends at 60 2 feet from a guy you've ridden with for years and another with some bloke you met on the ferry yesterday.
We carried on the fabulous tarmac before having coffee in a village on the edge of the mountains. Then it was off to drop our luggage and have lunch at a hotel we will stay at later in the week. They then transport it to the hotel where we will stay in Coimbra tonight.
At the ferry briefing Julian had mentioned that there would be smaller lunches as a big lunch didn't help when off-road riding. This clearly had been lost in translation as plate after plate of food arrived.
As we finished lunch a few spots of rain began to fall from a very black thundercloud [I had warned Julian about the cold front running in off the Atlantic]. We decided to get on the road and just about kept ahead of it. We met up with our guides for the off-road section as well as a Portuguese journalist that Julian knows who is writing about our trip and also about a new BMW bike that they have loaned him.
Then it was off into the hills in two groups. The trails were as stunning as ever, but this year there was so much more dust. All of a sudden following the rider ahead of you could often be treacherous as the visibility sometimes completely disappeared.
As the afternoon wore on we found ourselves at a village waiting for the other group to arrive. As we waited a lady came out with a tray of beers for us and her son started to take us on at table football. He sent most of the group packing, but he wasn't ready for 'ratchet wrist Davies'. A comprehensive 10-8 victory took him down a peg or two. I do feel it's worth getting children used to defeat at an early age....
When the other group appeared we set off and ended up at a motocross track where Alex (a Portuguese guide) demonstrated some of his skills. Eager to show that what he could do on a 400CC motocrosser I could do on a 1200CC lump of German engineering I hit the first jump a bit fast. I was impressed with the amount of air I got. I was even impressed with my landing. The lads were then impressed with the way the handlebars turned in their mounts from being above the tank to resembling a pair of clip-ons below the tank.
Still travelling at around 20mph they were even more impressed at how I flew off of the raised bank back down on the the track and how, lying flat on the tank, I shot off into the bushes.
It took three guys to pull the bike out. It should have taken less, but they were having trouble standing due to the amount of laughter!
We tightened the bars and headed off. It wasn't long before there had been a couple of extra prangs, one of which hurt the rider (Marshall from Scotland).
Back at the hotel, battered and bruised, it was a quick was and brush up before heading out for an Argentinian meal. This consisted of being fed meat (mainly cow) till your body could take no more. It was delicious.
A quick drink in the bar and then tired bodies were dragged off to bed.
Day 4 - Oh to be 10 years younger!
The morning dawned fair but with a stiff breeze. After a light breakfast we headed out to meet up with the guides, Alex & José. The road took us alongside a river. I'd riden it last year when it was busy with traffic and not much fun. Because of some roadworks in one section most of the local traffic was avoiding the route and we made good time hustling the bikes from bend to bend.
The 'advanced' group had shrunk to 5 today. The motley crew of Phil, Simon, Jim, Martin and myself headed off with our glorious leader Alex.
The trails were still dry and dusty as we climbed up though the many eucalyptus(?) groves. We soon found that as a group we were a riding a similar pace and so didn't have to do much sitting around for others.
As the morning got hotter and dustier fatigue began to set in. This wasn't helped by still feeling a bit under the weather. Water was being consumed at a copious rate and sweated soon after.
Simon and Jim were reveling in spinning up their rear wheels and leaving the trail covered in dust. Both are used to riding on the beaches in Guernsey and are used to the feeling of the bike moving under them. I'm not so keen. We did take turns at the front so they did get to 'eat my dust' from time to time.
Midway through the morning we visited a river than ran through a steep walled gorge. It was an idilic location with dragonflies buzzing around and many bright blue butterflies. I sploshed out into the stream to get a good picture and almost went a over t on some mossy rocks. That would have amused the guys.
We briefly met up with the other group before putting in some more hard riding before lunch. By the time we got to the café for lunch we were all looking a bit worse for wear.
With sandwiches and soup inside (and a beer in my case), we headed back out. Alex took us to a steep climb that I'd only just managed last year. Whilst not the longest climb on the holiday it was consistantly steep for a long time. I set off at the rear of the pack and managed to knock the bike back into first going over a big bump. This almost unseated me but I managed to hang on.
Having sorted myself out I was soon at the top of the slope nursing aching arms. Alex decided that what goes up must come down and started back down. We felt more dubious. Holding the throttle open and hanging on for your life is one thing, but contolling the speed going down with all the weight on your arms and the tyres scrabbling for grip is another.
After a long descent on a narrow track with long grass, brambles and washed out sections we were all feeling tired. Luckily, after completing a tricky, steep descent over loose shale to a road bridge, Alex got called away to assist the other group. As we heard him tear off through the trees we were all glad to get a rest. Unfortunately he was back within 10 minutes racing down the shale slope as if it was tarmac. We joked that we could hear his phone ringing and perhaps he should go back again!
He realised we were getting tired and so started the route home. This still seemed to involve a lot of trails though!
Meeting Julian and the rest of the group we rode some fantastic tarmac roads before arriving in Coimbra early evening. Marshall had been to seen a doctor and had an x-ray. His collar bone is broken in two places so he'll be doing no more riding.
Dinner was at a nice Italian resturant on the riverside before taking a taxi ride with an Alonso wannabe at the wheel back to the hotel. Retired feeling very worn with muscles aching that I didn't know I had.
Day 5 - Hill Tops and Slippery Bends
The morning dawned bright and sunny and looked set fair for a good day's riding. Breakfast was a bit subdued, partly because everyone was still tired, partly because everyone was maxed out on ibuprofen to counter the aches and partly because we knew we'd be saying farewell to Marshall when we left.
Before leaving the hotel in Coimbra we assembled all the bikes in front of the hotel and took a picture with the riders on the steps. This was similar to a picture we took last year, but this time there were many more bikes.
We stopped at a petrol station on the way out of town to fuel up and while we waited for one guy to get more painkillers I showed a couple of the guys my Zumo sat nav and what it could do. I've been riding with it on the bike to record the various routes we taken. It'll be interesting (well to me anyway) to see the range we covered on the various days once I'm home. Both Simon and Jim thought the unit was great and look set to purchase, so if you're reading this Mr Garmin, a free Mapsource upgrade would be nice!
We rode for around 20 minutes to meet the guides and then set off for the trails. We were told that today's ride would be on some of the larger trails at the top of the mountains. As we made our way up the slopes Alex stopped to show us a section of hillside used as an enduro course. It was hard to believe the slopes could be ridden, but Alex showed us what could be done with years of off-road practice and made it look easy. Swine.
As we got to the mountain tops there are large tracks made by the company that service the wind turbines that grace the ridges. The monster windmills are so impressive close up, their hi-tech blades slicing through the steady breeze with a wonderful sound. The roads, however, I don't like. Whilst they may be wide they're covered with a gravel like stone which causes the bike to move underneath you.
Once again Jim & Simon, the sand specialists, were in their element sliding the bikes into the bends on the back brake before powering out scattering gravel everywhere. There were still plenty of other rocky tracks during the day which were great. There were also a some tricky descents with loose rocks and washed out sections - all good to keep the pulse up.
We also visited the runway on top of one of the hills, where we all saw how fast we could get the bikes to go and I practiced some amateur wheelies.
Shortly before lunch we stopped a mountain top for a group photo. And then we headed to a restaurant for lunch. We'd met the owner last year, a grumpy old bar steward who gets really upset if you don't eat all the food. A lunch of grilled meats with bread and olives was eagerly devoured.
During the afternoon we worked our way back towards our new hotel (our bags having been taken from the previous hotel by van). One long climb, navigating switchback after switchback had us all sucking in big lungfulls of air by the top, but the views from the fire observation station at the top made it all worth while.
After a short, but tricky in places, descent we hit tarmac which then carried us (bumpily in places) back to the hotel. An excellent evening meal was had with Phil having us all in stitches with his classic dwarf joke and many others. It goes without saying that this much laughing is only safe on a well lubricated throat.
[A guy is in a bar chatting to the barman when suddenly he goes white as a sheet. The barman asks if there's a problem and the chap says that his Mrs has just walked in with his mistress. The barman looks up and then looks back at the chap the colour also draining from his face. "Small world isn't it" he says... - I thank you Mr Saunders]
Day 6 - What a bunch of Prankers!
The morning dawned misty and cool. There had been a good storm in the night with spectacular lightning, power cuts and a reasonable amount of rain. At least I wouldn't be chewing Simon & Jim's dust all day!
I had a problem to sort out first though. The previous afternoon some of the group had noticed that my brake light was on constantly. This seemed to be to do with the front brake lever assembly. The light being on was fairly minor, the bigger issue was that it also activated the brake servo circuit. Left to run constantly the servo could overheat or have a problem.
Once I started looking at the problem it gave everyone else the excuse to get their tool kits out. Soon we had a number of guys helping diagnose the fault. It transpired to be microswitch that was not closing to cut the servo/brake light circuit.
A bit of tinkering and fetling resolved the problem and everyone was happy that they hadn't carried their tool kits all the way to Portugal for nothing! And so we were now ready for our last morning off-road.
Jim, Simon & Phil had booked road tyres to be fitted after the morning session so they were up for wearing their knobblies out as much as possible. Our guides, Alex & José, had spent the night at the hotel so we were on the trails quickly.
There was only one group of riders today as some had decided not to tempt fate on the last off-road day. The tracks were wide and fast with only the occasional rocky section. Many were even shown on my Zumo.
Speeds began to grow, particularly on one section used by the Portugal rally. Everyone was pushing that little bit harder.
Coming round a bend on one rocky section the road had a large gully formed by the rain. Phil made the mistake of looking at it and so ended up heading for it. He managed to stay on but did have plough through some small shrubs!
Stopping further down the track the tail enders failed to appear. It was obvious someone (captain slow) had found the gully. They say that idle hands do the devil's work, and so it was that we came up with the idea of faking a crash scene.
We had waited at a junction in the trail after a long downhill section. The first gum tree at the junction was growing from its base in a V shape. Phil decided to be the victim, so we wedged his bike into the V, scraped away a long skid mark and Phil lay on the ground further ahead. Myself and a couple of the other guys gathered around him looking concerned.
We heard the sound of a scrambler coming down the track and so it was action stations. It turned out to be Julian, whose face drained of colour as he pulled up. He soon realized it was a scam and we reset for our intended victim Alex - the guide and nurse.
As he approached I started waving franticly. He was off his bike before it stopped leaving it on its side and swinging the medi-pack off his back. One of the group managed "we haven't moved him because he says his back hurts" without bursting into laughter.
Kneeling at Phil's head Alex began to suspect the crash scene. Maybe the heather wedged into Phil's backpack wasn't quite realistic! Phil opened an eye and a cheeky grin appeared on the Welshman's face. Alex realized he'd been had good and proper. Grabbing some wood he chased us around trying to inflict some real injuries!
Tempting fate is a risky business though as Phil discovered less than 200m further down the track. Coming round a bend there was a big mud puddle and Phil came off right in the middle of it. The man upstairs must have been grinning.
Phil was not the only one to get muddy. Jim had a spectacular off that is on video, so his embarrassment can live forever on UTube!
After lunch I said my goodbyes to Alex and José and headed back to the hotel on my own relying on sat nav. It had started raining and sat nav decided to take me through forest trails that were slippy and wet. Still I came here for the off-roading!
Day 7 - Twist and Shout
Today's ride took us northwest to Porto. Last year this had been a miserable ride in the rain and we had used the motorway to save time. The forecast was for blue skies, but as we packed the bikes there was a thick blanket of radiation fog lying in the valley below.
As we started our ride descended into the fog. Its damp chill made me wonder if I should have put my fleece on. There was no time to worry about the cold as the roads opened up with sweeping bend after bend.
Eventually we broke out of the top of the mirk and I took a track to gain some extra height and take a picture of the fog laying like a roll of cotton wool in the creases of the landscape.
By the time we stopped for coffee the day was warming rapidly so I filled my Camelbak. Julian warned us that the next section was very twisty with tricky cambers. Julian hustled us to finish our drinks and I dropped into position three as we headed for the hills.
The road was amazing. Bends of every shape and size all covered in superbly grippy flawless asphalt. The constant acceleration, braking and flicking the bike from side to side soon had the arms aching.
After around 50 miles we stopped for fuel, all of us wearing ear to ear smiles. Getting back on the bike I tried to take a drink from my Camelbak only to discover it wasn't there. I'd left it at the coffee stop!
Knowing where the hotel was in Porto I said I'd meet the guys later and turned round. I'd just have to do all the bends again, twice!
The knobbly tyres were going to get really hot and sticky. It's amazing how much road grip they actually give.I made it to the hotel at 6 and grabbed a qick shower before hitting the town with the boys for an authentic Portugese meal. I didn't bother with the pigs ears!
A few beers bird watching on the riverside rounded off a cracking day.
Day 8 - Top of the world Ma
Salamanca in Spain was today's destination. Our route took us along the Duoro valley before hearing south to visit Portugal's highest mountain.
Once again the weather was fine and dry. Soon we were sweeping through the country roads at our usual autobahn speeds. Blasting down a hill I thought I'd nip past a couple of cars only to realise that the reason they were going so slow was because the front car was a police car!
Slamming on the anchors, the knobblies struggling for grip and the back sliding out, I put a good show on for the boys behind. I'm fairly sure Mr Plod would have seen my antics in his mirrors, but he luckily didn't take exception.
Some of the group took shorter routes to Salamanca, but Phil, Jim, Chris & I went with Julian and a chap called Antonio to the mountain top. It was stunning.
Near the summit we stopped for some photos and Phil decided to tempt fate. First he drove his bike off road so he could get a picture of it near the mountain edge. Then he got the little red devil out to star in the picture. Now that devil has got us into all sorts of trouble before, so it was no surprise when Phil fell off trying to get his bike back up to the car park.
It was a proper fall too! The back roll down the hill gave Phil full artistic impression scores and managing to leave the bike with the wheels higher than the tank ensured a good technical merit mark. We took copious photos before offering to help pick it up.
The road down was really tight and twisty. Antonio who was riding a BMW road bike took the lead and showed us how it should be done, hanging his backside off the bike in the tight bends. I was quite pleased as to how well I kept up on knobblies. There was the odd sphyncter clenching moment, but it's all part of the fun!
At the bottom of the mountain we said goodbye to Antonio and headed up the motorway to Salamanca, 2 and a bit hours away.
After checking into the hotel it was a quick triple S, and then we were all in the main square blowing the froth off a couple of cold ones. We decided it would be rude not to re-visit the Irish bar where it all got a bit messy last year. And guess what, it got messy again!
It's hard to say if it was the atmosphere, the beer or the godess behind the bar that made us stay. Probably the latter!
Unable to drink any more beer we went on to shorts. Things got even messier......
Day 9 - Autopilot Engaged
I blundered into conciousness as my alarm went off. I was still fully clothed and had just collapsed onto the bed with all the lights on. It then slowly dawned on me that, somehow, through the mother of all hangovers I had to ride to Santander.
What made things even worse was that I had forgotten to set my alarm to Spanish time so I now had 15 minutes to be on the bike!
As I struggled into the garage those sensible enough not to have gone to bed at 3am were already pulling out. Ramming everything onto the bike I tried to hold them up as little as possible.
Breakfast consisted of a few gulps of yesterday's Camelbak water, now tepid and tasting of plastic. Quality.
Fueled up we were soon heading north, many of us running on full autopilot and slowly recovering from yesterday's excesses. The air had a definite hint of autumn about it as the sun struggled to warm the day.
After a couple of fuel and coffee stops we arrived in Santander. The main drag down to the ferry port was packed with traffic all jostling for any tiny gap. As we weaved our way through the cars one of Julian's panniers (probably the one full of smelly shreddies) decided it could take no more and just fell off.
With cars swerving to avoid it Jim showed excellent motorcycle football skills by kicking it into the kerb. It now looks decidedly second hand. We were just thankful that it hadn't jumped ship when we were blasting up the motorway. Coming across a tumbling case when riding on autopilot could have been catastrophic. Coming across a pair of Julian's crusty undies would have been fatal!
We loaded the bikes onto the ferry and the word began to get round that there was a force 8 in the channel. As I write the ship is crashing through big swells in the Bay of Buscay. Let's hope the big bloatar is OK and strapped down well.
Day 10 - Home Sweet Home
Sleep was intermittent to say the least. With every wave the ferry crashed through the ship shuddered and car alarms started sounding. Sleeping on the top bunk I was very conscious that it would be easy to fall.
In the early hours the seas calmed a bit and I managed some sleep, spread out like a fat starfish to avoid any rolling. At breakfast the rest of the motley crew began to surface. Jim and Simon, being both nautical chaps, were doing fine. Julian and Chris were fairing badly. Neither had eaten since Santander and one wasn't drinking either. The announcement that the ship would be docking late due to the weather didn't raise their spirits.
The bikes were fine when we came to retrieve them and we rode out of Plymouth in much cooler air than we'd become accustomed to over the previous days. We'd arranged to meet at the Exeter services before going our separate ways. Thunder clouds dotted the sky and every now and then there would be a cloudburst.
After a burger and saying our goodbyes we all headed to our respective homes. I donned my wet weather gear and it was not long till I needed it. Indeed I seemed to find a whole heap of weather on my way home. The hailstones bouncing off my helmet in a freezing microburst was probably my favorite!
And so ends another little adventure. It was an absolute pleasure to get to know all the guys on the trip. It'd be good to think we may get together again. Phil and I are already talking obout future adventures.
I hope you've enjoyed my capers and thanks for reading. Till next time!
