Day 6: Les Planes d'Hostoles to Tamariu (52 miles,3386ft of climb)

Poor Chris had been up most of the night with an upset stomach and looked decidedly grey. He thought he had picked up some food poisening- maybe the egg yesterday? We had a leisurely start as Sophie only served breakfast from 9am. 

It was all downhill to Girona. We stayed in the cycle strip which abuts most of the French and Spanish roads and Chris and I took it in turns to draft.We navigated our way through Girona, stopping for coffee, but seemed to by pass the apparently, lovely old town.

On the eastern side of the town there is one final range of hills, the Gavarres range, to be crossed before the coast.The final climb of the week up to the monastery of Els Angels (470 metres) was evidently a favourite of Lance Armstrong when he was based in Girona with his team - not exactly a ringing endorsement! I had a bit of energy left and pushed hard to the summit - the only time I could beat Chris was when he is not well and then not by much. There were plenty of fit cyclists out on their Saturday morning runs. It took me over 43 minutes to ride to the top of Els Angels, I later noted that the King of the Mountain for the Strava segment is no other than GB professional cyclist Adam Yates who took just under 20 minute to complete the ascent. Phil was listening to the rugby on his phone during the climb and gave us welcoming reports of a famous England victory over the Aussies.

We joined the main road to the coast and the route I had planned from Palafrugell to Tamariu involved some cyclo-cross down a steep stony track to the Med. We arrived just after 2pm  and fittingly it started to rain. We checked in at the Hotel Hostalillo, overlooking the pine-backed, sandy cove of Tamariu and much to my relief there were 3 bike boxes waiting for us in the luggage room.

We could now reflect on our achievement, chill out and enjoy the ambiance of the Med before a Sunday evening flight back to Bristol.

Day 5: La Seu d'Urgell to Les Planes Hostoles ( 104 miles, 10039 ft of ascent)

We didn't get any time to explore La Seu d'Urgell which was a shame as evidently it has a 12th century cathedral and an interesting museum. Instead it was another relatively early start after the hotel had got their act together and served us breakfast.

It was a lovely bright and fresh morning with a gentle breeze which you only really experience in mountainous areas. As the 5km Cadi Tunnel cannot be cycled through we had to take the more circuitous route through the beautiful and sparsely populated Cadi-Moixero National Park which involved two significant climbs, the Coll de la Traba (1491 metres) and the Coll de Josa (1640 metres). Phil waited for me at the top of the first Col -  clearly trying to make amends for yesterday! It was greatly appreciated. We passed some stunning hill top villages and stopped at one of them, Tuixent, for coffee. By this time we had been cycling for over 2 hours and only covered 20 miles - it was going to be a long day! 

Climbing up to the Coll de Josa we passed a gorgeous Romanesque chapel, clinging to the hill side above the Rio de Josa. Once the Col was reached we enjoyed a very long descent to Guardiola de Bergueda and the miles ticked by quickly. Phil organised a lunch stop and was already tucking into sausages and eggs when Chris and I arrived and he ordered two further portions.

The next section of the day took us due East across the Coll de Merolla (1090 metres) with another long descent to Ripoll - described as the cradle of Catalonia; it also has a good cafe serving earl grey tea and energy rich chocolate cake. 

We were now on the edge of the Pyrenees and the final climb of the day to the Coll de Canes (1121 metres) seemed relatively easy. On the descent I was passed by a group of youngsters from the Olot cycling club strutting their stuff on two wheels. There were great views of the extinct volcanoes characteristic of the Garrotxa region that surrounds Olot.

Phil and Chris took the wrong turning in Olot following Chris's Garmin and I got ahead of them using the low tech device of a Michelin map. When Phil stormed past me on the last section to our destination he was not best pleased. I had a second wind and latched onto his wheel as we covered the last 5 miles at 26 mph pace (gradual down hill mind you!).

The Hotel Can Garay at Les Planes d'Hostoles where we stayed, is a large art nouvea ("modernista") house built in 1906 and set in its own beautiful grounds. Sophie, the owner, made us very welcome, washed our cycling kit and served us a superb evening meal for 22 euros. Chris was not feeling well and retired to bed early. 

Day 4: Luchon to La Seu d'Urgell (98 miles, 11364ft of ascent)

This was on paper the hardest day with over 11,000 ft of climb and almost 100 miles of cycling. We were first in for breakfast at the aptly named Majestic Hotel and after getting our bikes, stored in the basement we were away just before 8am. Several groups of elderly cyclists were coming into town having clearly been up and down the Col du Portillon before breakfast. 

The Portillon is a toughie to start on, with some sections of 16%. Phil passed me near it's base and I didn't see him again all day. The top is the border with Spain and to mark the entry my chain fell off! I didn't start singing Charles Wesley's hymn at the time!

The descent into the Vall d'Aran was stunning and I stopped to take photos. The Val d'Arran was formed by the river Garona which rises in the area and flows out to France as the Garonne. Up until 1924 it had no proper link to the outside world until a tunnel was built. Unusually for Spain it faces North and had a more Atlantic climate and many rare flowers and butterflies flourish in the perfect, damp conditions. The road follows the river, gently climbing to the ski resort of Vielha. A text from Chris revealed that they had stopped for coffee and had moved on - I was not best pleased.

The 2016 TDF comes to this area next month and our route now picked up the route which will be used right up to La Seu d'Urgell. The big climb of the day to the Port de la Bonaigua (2072 metres) was up next with a mind destroying stretch of 6.7kms without a single bend. It passed through a very upmarket ski village of Baquera/Beret - popular with the Spanish royal family. With no part steeper than 7.7% and with 3 days of cycling in my legs it didn't seem long before I was at the top - an area of ski paraphernalia which in the summer always looks ugly. Phil and Chris had texted to say they had gone on - by now I was fuming!

The 18kms descent down to Sort was stunning. The gorse was out and the slopes of the hills were carpeted in yellow. Wild horses ambled across my path but I didn't see Mick Jagger. A Spanish cuckoo was chirping madly but much to my disappointment still sung in English.

Another text told me that Phil and Chris had just moved on from lunch - Chris received a curt phone call! But bless him, he waited for me at Sort and I had an under cooked burger at the Rock Cafe listening to Bob Marley. Chris told me that Phil had dived into the staff loo and managed to lock himself in - the handle just came off! He rang Chris who went to the customer's toilets but couldn't find him. A few more phone calls eventually tracked him down and he was liberated with stern looks from a number of the staff.

And so to one more climb before showers and tea - the Port de Canto (1725 metres). It was a warm early evening and whilst only an average of 5.4% it seemed to grind on. Half way up I stopped for an Orangina and a refill of my bottles at a roadside bar.  Chris was waiting for me at a second cafe near the summit and I had a refreshing cup of tea. 

The final descent to La Seu d'Urgell had fine views north to Andorra. We arrived at our hotel at 8.15pm - shattered - it had been a very long day in the saddle.

Day 3: Luz Saint Sauvier to Luchon (59 miles, 9089 ft of ascent)

Yesterday was a tough day with 2 big climbs. Today promised to be just as tough with 3 big TDF cols in store and little flat in between. We left Luz early at 7.10 am and got straight into climbing the legendary Col de Tourmalet- the most used climb of the TDF. It's 19.4 Kms of climbing with an average gradient of 7.4% and makes Burrington Coombe or Cheddar Gorge look somewhat tame. 

We stopped at Bareges for breakfast - an ugly village with shops for tourists dominated by a polish family  called Locationski (a joke stolen from inner ring web site). We were short changed and Phil got very annoyed - the last 24 hours he had been trying to solve a work crisis and was somewhat preoccupied and not in the best of moods.

I couldn't get my cleat to lock into my right pedal and Chris helped me replace it. There were lots of roadworks near the top and the kilometre markers were down which tell you how high you are and the average gradient for the next kilometre Photographers were on hand to capture the final moments - they then hand you a business card and you can buy the photos online for extortionate prices. 

Phil organised a proper breakfast at the top, the highest point of the trip at 2115 metres. I shivered my way through the first few miles of the long fast descent even with a gillet  and jacket on. Dry roads and little traffic helped the process.

We had a quick stop at Sainte-Marie de Campan to fill our water bottles from the village pump and admire the Romanesque church and we were then straight into the climb of the Col d'Aspin which was mainly through forest until the last kilometre. Another fast descent took us to the lovely town of Arreau where we enjoyed an excellent lunch of avocado and salmon for starters and lamb/duck for the main course; including drinks it all came to 38 Euros for the three of us.

Chris is very strong on the climbs and was storming up them in his characteristic Swan like fashion. He left Phil and I in his wake up the Col de Peyresourde. By the time I made it Chris and Phil were heading down to Luchon. I resisted the temptation of another selfie and instead spotted a lovely old summit sign and took a photo of it with my bike propped against it.

Luchon our resting place is a lovely spa town - originally the baths were built by the Roman emperor Tiberius but revived in the eighteenth century. It had an air of Bath or Cheltenham with classical architecture, wide boulevards and plenty of parks. I was exhausted. We found a pizza and crashed out early in the splendid Majestic Hotel.

Day 2: Issor to Luz Saint Sauvier (70 miles, 9210 ft of climb)

A superb stay in a Basque working farm with wholesome home made food - pate, sausages, honey and bread gave us a good start for the day. 

A misty start with fine drizzle soon eased off and we were straight into climbing the Col de Marie Blanque (1035 metres). At first the small Barescou Valley seemed gentle with meadows sitting below soft flanks. There was little traffic and the tourist sign announcing that we were on the route du fromage only added to the soft lethargy. But soon we were into the climb with 3kms of 12 to 13%. A final hairpin announced the summit and just over an hours climbing was at an end. 

It wasn't a morning for hanging around at the top and Chris and Phil who were ahead of me, texted me to tell me to meet them in Laruns for a welcome coffee and bun.

The next climb was the Col de Aubisque, one of the big ones, a legend of the Tour. A steady start for 4kms and then it ramps up to 13% and it's hard work all the way to the summit at 1709 metres. We lunched on the top and enjoyed a hearty meal - with burning off nearly 5,000 calories a day you can eat as much as you like. 

The first part of the descent was cold but it soon warmed up as the valley approached - a temperature difference of 20 degrees. The last part of the ride up to Luz-Saint-Sauveur I knew very well, having stayed at Luz on 4 separate occasions with the family.

Luz is a spa village straddling the confluence of the Garvarnie and Bastan rivers with an older 12th century part and a more modern 19th century quarter of Saint-Sauveur.

Monica Murphy kindly let us stay at her lovely holiday home - where we had stayed as a family in 2010,2011 and 2014. Reading the visitors book was quite emotional as previous visits here came flooding back. We enjoyed a superb set meal at the Templiers restaurant (a reminder of the town's links with the Knights of St John) and retired early.

Day 1: Biarritz to Issor

The Campanille did us proud and was ideal for our purposes. We left at 7.30am and got caught in the Biarritz rush hour traffic and struggled to find the right road out to Saint Pee-sue-Nivelle. Chris and I decided to retrace our steps but Phil was determined to find a cut through and so 3 miles into the ride we were split up and we next met up at St Jean Pied de Port - 40 miles later! It was a day of showers and sunshine but it was too warm for rain jackets so we just got wet.                       

We were in Basque Country with bi-lingual signs, brown half timbered houses, pelote courts and the basque flag adorning public buildings. We followed the Nive valley up to St Jean Pied de Port which was very reminiscent of the Wye valley from last year's LEJOG. St Jean is a tourist hot spot and was teaming with visitors. We found a cafe and enjoyed Gateaux Basque - a sort of lemon tart washed down with plenty of caffeine.

And so to the serious second half of the ride with all the climb. The first col of the trip (15 in total) was the Col d'Osquich at 495 metres and was last used on the Tour in 2008. We lunched at Mauleon-Licharre and had a great value beef Bourgogne and pasta and salad for 10 euros.

The worst climb was up to our B&B at Issor not helped by Chris's electronic shifters failing on him. Chris had booked us into a working farm- so was able to talk chickens and cows in French to the owner!

Arrival in Biarritz

Finally the day arrived and we assembled at Phil's house at the unearthly hour for a Sunday of 7 am. Phil drove to Stansted in his customary style and even with a breakfast stop at Reading we were still there in three and a quarter hours. My Grandad always insisted in getting to the station hours before the train departed but 4 hours early for a flight is going something. However, the time soon flew by and Ryanair delivered us to Biarritz 5 minutes early. Much to our relief the bikes appeared in the large luggage section  and we had an amusing 15 minute walk pushing the bike boxes along a dual carriageway to get to the Campanille Hotel. With ground floor rooms we assembled our bikes outside and they all survived the trip well.

We remembered to cycle on the right hand side of the road just in time and descended into Biarritz town centre. The tide was nearly in and there were a fair sprinkling of surfers out strutting their stuff on the mighty Atlantic sea. After more photos than an average wedding, Phil led the charge into the sea for a paddle and Chris and I followed somewhat gingerly behind. Phil played the old school boy trick and managed to get me soaked as he told me to stand further back for the photo. 

Biarritz is a grand seaside resort - Weston-super-Mare must have been like it in the 1950s and 60s. We found a good pizza restaurant, packed out with locals (always a good sign) and afterwards wended our way back to our hotel for an early night.

Atlantic to the Med : A new Project for my 60th Year

Towards the back end of 2015, Chris, Phil and I were once again to be found in our local watering hole in Axbridge (The Lamb) supping pints of Butcombe and discussing plans for 2016. LEJOG 2015 was already being viewed through rose tinted spectacles and the bonds of friendship strengthened through a shared achievement were willing to be tested again. We discussed an end to end trip of Ireland (Mizen Head to Malin Head) but somehow the thought of the possibility of another cold and wet June didn't fill us with much excitement. So we were drawn to warmer climes and after discarding several suggestions the thought of traversing the  Pyrenees with a  starting point  at the Atlantic and finishing at the Mediterranean seemed a worthy successor to LEJOG,

Over the Christmas break I bought some maps from Stanfords (my favourite shop in Bristol) and immersed myself  in several days of happy research (much to the annoyance of the rest of my family) looking at different routes and options. By early January a plan had been stitched together- we would start at Biarritz and spend 3 days in France and then drop over into Spain and spend 3 days in the remoter and wilder areas of Catalonia before finishing on the Costa Brava at Tamariu just to the East of Girona - a total of 465 miles and a huge 53,000 feet of climb.