Next day, I woke up with the certainty of having a very rainy day ahead of me. I intend to ride out of the hotel already with rain suits on, since my "main wear" for this trip consist of jeans and a very summery jacket, enjoy a b-road to Pau and then hop on the motorway and cover as much ground as comfortable before stopping for dinner and sleep, this is my plan drawn in resignation to suffer rain storms in a motorway for the majority of a day.
Reality didn't go like that, I did get the rain, and in fact put the luggage on the bike, and exited the hotel all waterproofed only to need to access my gloves in one of the sidecases to then remember the bike's key in my jeans. I hate these keys, since you don't need them to operate the bike they end up wherever and never at hand when you need them. After all the carfuffle I am now sweating, so come back in from the rain to take my sweater off. Most other people in that place are hikers, they agreed that rain and warmth is the worst!
I ride off, taking very tiny roads, after a short while I spot this place just right for an espresso with shelter from the rain. I walk in, and stand in front of the counter while the girl is very busy talking to someone, then she's very busy answering the phone, then she runs past, completely ignoring me and the other people now in line. I step outside and take a free seat while contemplating the rain.
This was the first taste of french hospitality, they're known for it but since this is Basque Country I thought it would be different:
A few minutes later, waterproofs back on, and I head out. Finally the girls in line behind me are getting served, could have taken 10 espressos in that time.
I head into the hills and following my phone's guidance through very small roads I start enjoying myself, so much so that when the phone goes quiet I continue from intuition. Roads are really small, very muddy and with lots of animal waste from herds of cows and sheep that are grazed here.
After maybe 30 or 45 minutes the rain stops briefly and I take the picture above while finally going for my phone safely tucked inside my jacket, turns out I'm almost back where I started! No worries, I had the feeling that's what was happening, and carried on the right way. I climb a little, and stop to admire the views, nice fog!
There's fog and muddy roads, those are horses in the distance down in the valley:
I've never had tires as good in the rain as these. These are Mitas Touring Force, granted the name can take some improving but on wet greasy muddy tarmac, they're great. If there's no tarmac they're not so great, but that's fair enough.
In the next three pictures, if you zoom in you'll see vultures. They're just standing there with their wings open, I don't know what they were doing but that was it as watched from the outside. I shouted, they flew 50 meters and did the same thing.
More horses:
There are a lot of tiny ponies roaming around, but I never stopped for pictures because they were too near the road and didn't seem to like my presence, and it was just raining too much and I tried to keep the inside of my gloves dry.
Up high, clouds were moving fast:
Filthy bike:
And as quickly as that, the clouds roll in again, same spot:
Now almost 2PM and I feel a little peckish, so stop to both figure out where to get something to eat and where to head after. I stop when it stops raining, and it happens to be in the middle of an amazing forrest. Really a very cool place:
I give up on finding a cafe, and go to a supermarket, buy a bread and some cheese, and make a sandwich:
Someone cut a tree down in the picnic area, it's growing back again:
By now I'm enjoying this too much and to hell with the motorway, so decide to follow the Pyrenees a while more, stopping near Laruns to check where I'm going:
Where I was heading was through the Col D'Aubisque and the Col de Soulor, very cool roads eve if it was pouring down, again I was amazed how good these tires were on a bike with softer suspension than mine, I don't think I could have had a more confidence inspiring combination.
Up at the top, stopped for a coffee and to decide on accommodation for the night, in the direction of France proper but not too far away as the rain was loosing it's charm:
Local cheeses in this whole area are amazing, I almost felt tempted to contaminate a whole sidecase in order to buy some. The smell would have lingered in whatever was sharing luggage space for ages
I found this small place near Lourdes, about 45 minutes away, and off I went. It was a nice surprise, nobody spoke english but my broken french made up for it. I fool people into thinking I know french, this lasts 10 seconds, then the momentum carries me through the rest of the conversation
One of their "guard dogs" doesn't know he's a guard dog yet, and quickly turned into a play mate, a game of fetch ensued and after a while he was broken and ready for a nap at his owners' door:
They knew the way to my heart and the madame of the house told me to help myself to beer on the fridge, (or tea if I preferred ) , her husband was cooking and I was to join the two couples they had as guests and themselves for dinner.
After a day of wearing rain stuff it felt good to be having a beer outside in a tshirt. The other dog wasn't a friend of mine, though:
The gentleman waving in the picture below is quite a character, he is a belgium who used to race (as an amateur, I think), Sidecar Motocross, and has an old Maico 250cc at home (non sidecar). I didn't ask what color it was, though, so he might be a deviant and have a blue Maico
He and his wife have been married for 58 years, which is amazing not only on the number of years but also because none of them look to be old enough, I enjoyed their company as both had a great sense of humor and were a joy to be around.
I was not, though, prepared to the amount of food. I misunderstood and thought we were going to have a few tapas or a few platters of stuff, so when the guy filled the table (table, I thought was platter as in board) with all sorts of entrees I assumed that was dinner, it was enough for everyone. But no, after I was full came the soup, which was delicious, then the duck magret with a type of patatas bravas, then the cheese, and then dessert when I was about to pass out.
I couldn't say no to dessert as Marie, the owners' daughter had made it. She's working as a pastry chef.
I had never over eaten so much in my life. I went for a stroll and then retired to bed feeling like I was going pass out. I had heard of the French and their dinners, but had never been in one. Good thing I had work to do as that helped me digest a little while sitting up and working on the laptop.
The next day would be a long one.
