Rides bikes, paddles sea kayaks, takes pictures. Life on the road & my home in Cornwall.
Pamplona and Pear-Shaped
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Teruel to Zaragoza, and some muddy bits in between....
The etymology is somewhat murky, but apparently one of the origins for the term “gone all pear-shaped” may be the Royal Air Force of the 1940s, more specifically flight training and performing a loop, and the difficulty of making it properly round. The art of glass-blowing may also, apparently, have something to do with it. Regardless, the reason I mention it is that I recently found myself having to explain its meaning, as it in “it’s all gone a bit wrong” to a Canadian mate who had no idea what I was twittering on about… probably not unusual but most folk are, I suspect, too polite to say anything. That instance was also related to bikes and riding, and not surprisingly it’s a highly relevant phrase when it comes to bicycle travel… for instance the few days since leaving Teruel…
Teruel has a small but lovely old heart…
Leaving town on a bright, chilly morning I felt ok albeit with legs feeling uncharacteristically empty. I put it down to having been off my bike for a couple of days and the general fatigue that often goes with bike travel. By evening however, as I pitched my tent in the shadow of the ruins of a 12th century castle, far from civilisation, I was feeling distinctly sore… and broke camp the next morning, in pouring rain and cold, with what felt like a full blown dose of bronchitis… hence things thereafter going a bit pear-shaped :-)
I’ll tell the rest of the story with pictures rather than witter on at length.
Teruel. It sits at an elevation of 915m, which may not be massively high, but does make it somewhat chilly. A local I spoke with mentioned summer lasts for just 2 months of the year.Being Semana Santa the place was packed and the evenings were marked by some fantastic parades. I’m not good at documenting stuff like that, especially with just a wide angle lens at my disposal so I tend to try and just pay attention to what’s going around. I loved the expression of utter disinterest on the young chap’s face as one of the passing ‘congregation, for want of a better word, fumbled and dropped something…Teruel… the weather remained stormy…The day I left town however the sun was out from time to time, and the trails were dry. The wind was strong, and cold, but it felt like a good day for riding. It’s a deliciously empty area, criss-crossed with dirt roads and trails, and with something like fewer than one person per square kilometre.My plan had been to spend a few days making use of Ernesto Pastor’s excellent “Montañas Vacias” (Empty Mountains) trail notes (here: https://montanasvacias.com/) with the intent of ultimately heading to Zaragoza in a meandering fashion.The countryside has emptied out as jobs disappear and people move to the cities in search of work. There are many abandoned homesteads and semi-deserted villages.The town of Albarracín however is a marvel, and being absolutely rammed with Easter holiday visitors, was not somewhere I stopped for more than a few minutes. You can google it instead, or click here: https://www.spain.info/en/destination/albarracin/ ;-)Following walking trails for a while…Marvellous riding country.I camped that night in the shadow of the ruins of the Castillo de los Ares. The castle belonged to the independent ‘lordship’ of Albarracín, and was a defensive position against the Kingdom of Aragon in the 12th century,A fine spot sheltered from the strong winds. Not a soul around.The rain arrived with a vengeance around midnight. It eased to a light drizzle for a half hour or so around 8 while I made a coffee, feeling distinctly unwell with hacking cough, tight chest, and aching muscles. temperatures were only 3-4 degs C.Riding turned into a painful grovel on trails rapidly softening with the rain. I managed 9km to reach a village with an open bar where I could dry out and warm up with coffee and tortilla, and do a spot of “what now” planning, it becoming clear I wasn’t going to be able to continue with my original plan. Being asthmatic I tend to have to be a little bit careful when it comes to chest infections.Looking at the map, and google, it looked like a room could be found in the village of Bello, 39km away, where I could rest up and recover for a night. This pic isn’t Bello by the way, this is Peracense… on the way.Peracense.. the rain eased for a moment and a shaft of sunlight lifted the scene. Shortly after it was back to heavy rain, ice pellets and wind.. :-)I’d figured on maybe needing 2- 2 1/2 hours to reach Bello… haha, silly me. In the end it took almost 6 hours, thanks to the wind and weather, and absolutely diabolical mud as already damp trails were turned into sticky clay by the rain. I also, briefly, had snow at one point.
There are no further pictures from this stretch, I was utterly done in by the time I reached Bello and found a room on the 4th floor of a rather funky converted grain elevator. In the event I was there two nights and pretty much confined to bed the whole of the day in between. There is a railway line that runs within 30km of Bello, that would have got me to Zaragoza and onward connections.. the line however was closed for works, and the bus service wasn’t taking bicycles. I had to ride.
With no choice but to ride then I was very happy to see sunshine and light winds. My body was complaining horribly but I was feeling overwhelmingly happy at just trundling along on two wheels listening to the bird song and enjoying some perfect cycling weather. I suspected I wouldn’t reach Zaragoza, 120km away, before my body said “enough”, but really could not have cared less.It was a lovely stretch on quiet backroads and a few scraps of dirt, through the usual collection of tiny villages with their sturdy stone churches.Stopping at almost every opportunity for a coffee.In the event I only made 60km before I could physically go no further, so hid myself away in the scrubby forest and spent the rest of the day dozing, reading, and drinking tea, all to a soundtrack of birdsong and with the aroma of wild rosemary – it was everywhere. The rain returned in the night and the remaining 60km, the following day, were very wet and cold indeed. I didn’t have the energy to look around Zaragoza, and was only there for the night before trundling off to the railway station for a ride a couple hours north to Pamplona.Pamplona then, it seems a lovely town with loads of green space. I’m still feeling a bit rubbish so haven’t had the energy for much exploring or street photography beyond a couple of snaps…I’ve enjoyed it nevertheless, hopefully I get to return one day.Pamplona. I’m off to Vitoria tomorrow… a stretch I’d planned, and wanted to ride, for its scenic value, but instead I’m hopping on the train. Ho hum, such is life on a bicycle sometimes!Pamplona
