West again.. point me towards Ponferrada..
I’m up around 5 and see the sun come up, having a sit on the balcony with a host of empty drinking vessels and an ever-so-slightly fuzzy head. It’s just beautiful. The cool early morning air, the emerging sun, the colours and shadows across the limestone peaks.. all just memorable.
Sitting in front of the computer here now, like a prize nerd, I can close my eyes and breathe it all in
The bike sits below the balcony, waiting patiently for today's installment of action..
So. today’s destination is Ponferrada - so continuing our journey to the west and over towards Portugal. We have a simple breakfast – Brian, bread and jam, me just coffee, I’m still a bit full after the lamb chop overdose, but the coffee is strong and good and does the trick.
Being already in the heart of the Picos, well, the riding is simply magnificent from the start. We head across the San Glorio pass; we see no traffic, bikes, cars- nothing- on the way up.
Stopping for pictures at a favourite spot.
It gets no better..
Digressing for a moment, just a moment to mention that this part of Spain is a simply fantastic place to head to on a bike, and I would thoroughly recommend it, as I’m sure many on the site here who’ve had the pleasure to visit would.
Selfie. Hello, UKGSer’s!
We move up to a viewpoint where the Bear monument is, but I can’t be bothered to stroll up in all of this clobber.
We’re joined by a guide up at the top who is taking a group of three for a walk. He tells us about the features and peaks in an animated passion. walks off with them, and then comes back to tell us more.
The going is good and the roads get a little harsher as we move away from the main routes across the mountains. Bumpier, and with poor surfaces, but GS country, and entertaining. Brian opts to take some roads that were decommissioned with newer roads nearby and we find ourselves emerging through the undergrowth, like a two wheeled David Bellamy duet.
Coffee stop with scenic splendour..
More bumpy goodness after the coffee stop.
Lunch is taken in a place called Villamanin, at a restaurant called Meson Ezequiel, which Brian calls the sausage factory. Hardly in a picturesque location, on the main road and part of a truckstop, but it’s probably worth mentioning that the standard over here for ‘roadside’ food is fantastically high..
A confused attempt at ordering gets the right result. Meat!
I opt for a mushroom dish given the indulgences of last night. From the head perspective, this was a good idea. From the heart, it was a very bad idea. From the heart surgeon, on the other hand, again it was at least the correct choice..
Due west of us, on the tiny roads passing through Poladura de la Tercia is a beautiful valley setting - as stunning place as you’ll ever get the pleasure to cast an eye on. I don’t have a picture so you’ll have to trust me, but please do.
Eventually this meets up again at a main fast road and we work our way west on Fantastic quick roads.
At one point, two deer hop out- one carrys on across the road and the other doubles back. The brakes are certainly working well. eek.. that will warrant an underwear inspection later, me thinks.
The final act of the piece is a brisk and flawless ride down into Ponferrada, enjoying the benefit of the change in elevation as we make our way into the city; the bike is almost riding itself, and there’s not a hint of a cough or a stutter now. Lovely.
Temperature is in the early thirties as we roll down on into Ponferrada. Wide boulevard motoring into town, with 50kmh and lots of traffic lights. The final trawl up is following a Policia Local car which is intent on doing five miles an hour. Not exactly the welcome we wanted in the heat, but after what seems an age we’ve climbed to our destination.
The hotel is fine- a good location, close to the castle with indoor parking at a surcharge, which is used for convenience sake. The hotel is full of laminated notices featuring what not to do.
GPS odyssey update: Well, the screen has sprung back into life on the old Zumo, colour and everything, but the touch screen part doesn’t work anymore. That would be fine as I could use it for location reference easily, but Professor Piehead here had fiddled around with it whilst it was barely working and activated a route on it, which I now can’t cancel, and so it’s constantly telling me to bugger off back to France. So it does work well as a compass and a speedo. That’s something, I s’pose, and I do like to keep it mounted on the bike because if it’s not there, on or off, I find it a bit of distraction. Weird.
I try to take the battery off hoping it’ll reset the route. No dice. Balls. Google tells me if I want a hard reset I’ll need the touch screen, and that’s out.
Shall we take this party outside then? Why not. Actually, Ponferrada is a bit of an unexpected gem. I’ve only ever skirted around the place- it seemed a sort of an urban industrial place- and this goes to show how wrong you can be on first impressions.
We hit the streets. I buy a sticker for the bike off of this chap.
It’s quiet and peaceful in the heat of late afternoon. The restaurants and beer bar we plan to visit aren’t open until after six, so a stroll is taken..
Pretty streets and sights in the old town..
We make a visit to the supermarket, where you can get spangled for the princely sum of a shiny Euro
Seems like this place has everything you need, eh..?
Mandatory late afternoon refreshment is taken with a view of the castle walls where we can people watch the Camino de Santiago walkers on their pilgrimages, all manner of folks, young, old, tattoos..
After a further wander, it’s craft beer o’clock, so we’re onward to our venue of Cerviceros del Beirzo..
Fortunately, I’m pleased to report my beer navigation system is working perfectly as we make our way through the menu. There’s some serious stuff on offer..
.. each round served with Tapas and very pleasant service.
Ponferrada proves to be a hit
We wobble back to the hotel, opting to skip dinner. Brian trundles off to bed and I have a drink in the hotel bar. It’s full of said walkers and pilgrams the Santiago route, feet up and socks off. I ask for a glass of white wine, and am promptly presented with a bottle which is opened and poured before I can protest. Well, I suppose I better make the best of it..
Night night.