The final finish

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Blog for the 20^thonwards



Inexplicably the night had brought a moist start to the day, with my tent copping the brunt of the dew. Frustrating to say the least, ending up with a wet tent without having any rain. I certainly had a sense of nervous trepidation about the day. Hoping that I could get my bike fixed in good time, and get on the road to Pamplona. There was also the unknown that was the Pyrenees. I was unsure whether I would be able to ride on the only road leading there. I was definitely on edge. After having a quick, and reassuring word with Eb, I made the 5km walk with my broken bike over the border and into Irun. Stopping on the way I treated myself to a few last croissants on French soil, it seemed only appropriate. Having scouted out the bike store the day before I was able to find it without any added stress. They replaced the spoke and fitted a new tube and tyre (they had been destroyed by the stray screw) for 30 euros. It was a price that I was willing to pay to get to Pamplona. The mechanic in the process did blow up a tyre and tube in the process, overinflating on the first attempt. That just made me even more nervous about the quality and the repercussions for the rest of my ride. After reassembling my bike I was off on the last 75km of my trip. I was extremely grateful to find that the road leading to Pamplona had an extremely wide shoulder for me to ride on. I was still unclear as to whether I was legally allowed to ride on the road, and seeing a few fellow cyclists heading the other way provided some reassurance. The first 30 or so km through the Pyrenees were surprisingly easy. The road followed the river which meant that the serious climbs that I was bracing for were few and far between. Foolishly I was lulled into a false sense of security. They certainly came. About 40km into the afternoon the road turned skyward. It was still manageable though. I pushed through the 4kmm climb at 8%!,(MISSING) a pretty touch ascent. At what I thought was the top I was pulled over the police to be informed that I was in fact riding in a prohibited zone. They directed me off to a side road that met up with same road 10km further. The tunnel that I was about to head down was too long and dangerous for cyclists they said. So I made my way off the highway onto a much quieter road. To begin with it was rather charming, a quieter road, more beautiful scenery, but unfortunately much more climbing. I could see the road below follow the path of the valley, remaining fairly flat. Instead, I had to contend with switchback city, the true sign of a steep climb. So up and up I went, with no foreseeable end in sight I was slowly being demoralised. Up until I was forced off the highway I was confident of making it to Pamplona, but having to head up this mammoth mountain shook my confidence. My feet were really starting to cause me trouble with numerous hotspots popping up. What really motivated me to continue though was my lack of water. I didn’t feel comfortable staying the night with such little water left to drink. So I continued. And soon enough I reached the peak. The views were spectacular looking at where I had come from and back down the valley. Let me tell you there is no better feeling than heading downhill after having to work so hard for it. I calculated I had done about 10km of climbing at an average of 9%! (MISSING)A climb that would be categorised in the Tour (or the Vuelta since I was now in Spain). The policeman which had caused me much grief had told me that the descent into Pamplona was long and steep, and he was not wrong. From the top of the mountain to Pamplona (26km) I’d say 95%!o(MISSING)f that distance was downhill. By the time I had reached the 20k to go mark I knew that I was going to make it. I savoured every last pedal into Pamplona, knowing that this was it. It seemed an appropriate day to finish, having conquered the Pyrenees in one day was something to be truly proud of. I had this stupid grin all over my face as I made my way quickly into the city. There was still one decision to be made. I was right on the outskirts of the city, but the road I was on turned into the autobahn equivalent for only 300m or so. By this time I was pretty tired, and couldn’t be bothered looking around for a pedestrian path into the city. So I decided to take the road, knowing I was in the wrong. One man did pull over and let me know I couldn’t ride on this road, but exiting at the next roundabout I was once again off the illegal road. From here I made my way into the heart of this infamous city. I found the hostel was right near where I had stopped to get WIFI. The Hostel Hemmingway was where I decided to end my final day of riding. I quickly had a shower and headed out into the city to celebrate my achievement. Immediately I noticed that things in Spain are much cheaper. I treated myself to a three course meal, including a bottle of wine and a coffee for only 12 euros. An absolute bargain. The evening was barmy, and the city was busy for a Monday night. I already like what Spain has to offer. Having had a huge day both physically and mentally I headed back to the hostel and immediately fell into a slumber. I didn’t sleep all that well though, I woke up at 4 with an incredible thirst and respecting the other hostellers need for sleep I waited it out till the morning.



The morning brought a great sense of relief. I was finally done. There was to be no mor worrying about the condition of my bike, the weather, what I was going to eat or the how many km I was going to do. While eating the free breakfast on offer I called Eb. It’s hard to explain the feeling of finishing, I just kept on laughing to myself. While it is sad that I’ve come to the end, the overwhelming emotion is relief. I’m also excited to travel for the next few weeks in a conventional manner. I think I picked the perfect time to finish. While right now I feel as though I stopped enjoying it a while ago I’m sure I’ll look back with fond memories of these last few days. While I’m normally critical of those who are overly proud of themselves, I truly am proud of my achievements over the last two months. After speaking to Eb I then talked to mum and dad, who have both been incredible in their support of me, especially in the more trying of times. It was nice to share this victory of sorts with them. Today is all about letting the reality of finishing sink in, its an indescribable feeling. I headed out to the old town, passing by the cash converters to check out if they sell bikes. It’ll be sad getting rid of my faithful steed Benji, but it’ll also be a significant weight lifted from my shoulders. It’s a beautiful day here in Pamplona, one that I’m going to soak up. I’m planning to head to Barcelona on Friday, and after that who knows. Southern Europe is now my oyster. I hope you’ve enjoyed my tales over the last few months, hopefully they get a little less dramatic over the next few weeks. I could do without all the stress as well. I’ll keep you posted on my movements over the next few days



Cheers,



Tikka

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