Luckily the river hadn’t flooded due to the storm during the night but Thomas was not happy to be packing his wet tent away. Thomas took a lay in that morning, probably due to sun stroke but also was in no rush as he had plenty of time to reach the ferry port in Santander for his afternoon departure. Thomas was sad the trip was coming to an end but glad to be homeward bound to see his Mrs again and looking forward to sleep in his own, proper bed. Eventually and within plenty of time, Thomas arrived at the

The next morning, Thomas departed the San Francisco campsite and followed the prat nav, turning right out of the campsite heading up into the hills. Immediately the single track took him through a near by village where a line of bins blocked the way. Thomas stopped to see why and was then waved through by a couple of the locals. The lane was sprinkled in flower petals in preparation for a wedding that day, so Thomas tried carefully to avoid them but still scattered the petals. The lane became steeper and steeper to the point; he had to turn back

Thomas enjoyed another day off in Galicia this time, starting with a coffee and a short stroll to the beach for the final burn. The beach was deserted and he wondered why. He got the sense and the smell that something unpleasant was lurking. It was then he noticed a sewage plant just over the wall and relocated to the next bay where bathers started to arrive. Although the temperature rose to around 30’, the sun didn’t seem that strong to Thomas as the Atlantic breeze cooled him down. It was later when Thomas returned to the camp and looked

Thomas was intrigued by today’s campsite choice on Spain’s North West coast ‘San Francisco’. He had never toured this area of Spain before and was excited. As he quickly packed his full camping kit away, he heard a ‘Pardon’. It was one of the German hippies poking his head out from a hole in his tent with at least 40 empty beer cans by the entrance and apologised for the noise the night before. With delight from the hippy, Thomas tried to explain he hadn’t heard anything and that it wasn’t him who complained. Thomas was now used to sharing

Today is Thomas’ well deserved day off and he woke to the sound the hippies cracking their breakfast beer at 0700. As it was a Thursday and approaching the weekend, already the camp was getting busy with the constant sounds of people arriving and car doors slamming. Thomas washed just in time to wave the bikers farewell and safe riding. On his days off, Thomas still felt the need to explore so set off by foot on a hike around the nearby lake. There is always something to do whilst on the road he pondered whilst looking for the campsite,

That morning, Thomas discovered that the hammock not only acted as a very comfortable bed but also a canopy, catching any falling insects and leaves from the trees above. Though Thomas was still glad it had kept him off the cold ground and away from the killer ants and he wondered what he may have eaten during the night. He didn’t particularly sleep well but persevered until the morning. Thomas had now been on the road for several days since his week off in Estepona, and began to loose track of the days, time and more worryingly which town he

Thomas woke to the hollowing of the same owl he went to sleep to. The day ahead was a relatively easy 152.2 mile ride to Castelo Branco heading towards Northern Portugal with an estimated journey time of only four hours. The morning was a cool 24’, much lower than usual. Thomas put this down to the altitude. What few campers were on site still slept. Along the way, Thomas pulled over to re fuel, and then decided to leave his bike while he visited a local market near by the Portuguese border. Thomas was still on the hunt for a

Thomas woke heavily hung-over due to bedbug, ant bites and food poisoning. Unbeknown to him today’s ride was going to be the toughest, although not the furthest, passing over Spains Sierra Nevada and Toledo mountains, consisting of a 323 mile ride to Spain’s Guadalupe. The temperature rose to 39’C and the surrounding fields were desert like. With his full protective bike kit on (helmet, gloves, long socks, off road enduro boots and a goretek armoured jacket and trousers) he found the riding exhausting whilst twisting around the farmers lanes for the entire journey. Thomas lifted his helmet lid for some

Last night, Thomas ate a disappointing meal at the campsite then braved a short bus journey into Albufeira’s old town where he joined the Dutch and Brit tourists. The later it became the busier it got and of course the more drunk the tourists became. The old town was beautifully lit up at night as it sat by the deserted beach overlooking the tranquil sea. Thomas sat and watched with amusement at the bullying tactics of the PR’s employed by the bars and restaurants to drag people in from the street and then charge astronomical prices for poor quality food

For some reason, Thomas hasn’t entered a log for the next two days and can only put this down to possibly not wanting to remember his visit to the highly populated tourist area of Albufeira in Portugals Algarve. Thomas felt he had cheated himself by choosing to hire an expensive lodge for the next two nights instead of the usual cost of a tent pitch, although he did downsize from a luxury five bedroom villa! Thomas felt alone that day knowing he was going to be without his gorgeous wife for the next ten days. The lanes from Estepona to

For the next week, Thomas enjoyed some relaxing time around the amazing villa with his wife and inlaws. Within that week they consumed huge amounts of food purchased from the local supermarket, ate, swam, sun bathed and sun bathed some moor. Other than relaxing, Thomas visited an amazing safari park situated over serveral mountain sides, visited the local market where he bought his Panama hat, which really didnt suit him and definately made him stand out from the locals. They all found the holiday very relaxing but sometimes challenging in close quaters. The luxury villa was peaceful and isolated away

The next morning, with the sun rising and the temperature alreadty 26′, Thomas woke at 0545, with the town still partying, he  packed, thanked the security guard for looking over Nomad and departed for Estepona near Marbella. Yet again the sat nav directed them both along disused looking dusty tracks where the wild dogs chased and snapped at his heels making him almost dump the bike whilst trying to avoid them, then got lost. The route took Thomas down the East coast of Spain then cut across through and over the Sierra Nevada mountains using an awsome twisty biking road

Compared to yesterday, this was a pretty uneventful day with the route taking Thomas out of the stormy mountains to skirt Barcalona then along the coast to just North of sunny Benidorm. Thomas had set his sat nav to minor roads as he always did and often the tarmac would turn to cobbles, dirt tracks or even Donkey paths. On this occasion he wished he hadnt. Along the way the tarmac once again turned to a stoney, dusty track surrounded by farmers fields, mostly growing oranges. The track became narrower and bumpier until Thomas and his bike who he had

Knowing he had another long day ahead, Thomas woke at 0500, packed quietly whilst the Northampton biking group snored heavily after there few beers the night before. Also, Thomas had to be down in Estepona, Spain by Saturday afternoon, otherwise he would have had the Mother in law to answer to! Unfortunately, he was unable to exit the campsite gate as it was locked (he dosnt have much luck with gates). He kindly asked the receptionist to open them but she refused and bluntly advised him there must be quiet on the campsite until 0800 and thats when the gates