The Cols of the Pyrenees, 650 km and of course the race to be King of the Mountain

A sprint to the train station then  Toulouse to Foix by train (to avoid the heat and get us out of the city) which took just over an hour and made us feel we were close to the mountains straight away. A quick look around town and then out to the campground where we settled in by the pool with everyone else for a few hours respite from the heat. Walking across the road to the shop at 7 pm it was still about 38 degrees. A young guy spotted the avanti bikes and came over and said -  you guys must be kiwis. Sheldon was from Waikato, a really good cyclist on his OE. We enjoyed the evening with him and a 65 yr old Californian woman who was motorcycle touring.
French campgrounds have it all. Food/eating is a big deal here, table cloths, wine glasses, fancy chairs, pot plants, they bring it all and more. Bon appetite!
I spotted a dog still in the same position that it had been in for many hours, tied up outside a caravan. I went for a closer look, it was a toy dog! I asked myself, when you are packing up for a holiday when is it you stop and say, hang on don't forget the toy dog and the lead?...
Anyway its all about the bike and the cols this week. Laminated numbered maps with high lighted routes came with the bikes, awesome, thanks to Warwick and Maria our next fortnight is sorted, doing their route in reverse and the tour de France will be there as well.
Climbing the Cols of the Pyrenees was something we both really wanted to do on this trip although I must admit to some anxiety when contemplating it with a fully loaded bike. However, with 11000km training in my legs now was the time. Choosing to ride hills everyday brings a different mindset. Instead of groaning at the sight of a hill in front, it becomes more of a challenge with each summit a reward for the effort put in as well as the stunning views. My goal was to ride them all without pushing my bike at all and of course getting to the top before Trevor, nothing like a bit of healthy competition...
Foix to Vicdessos, 35 km Cruisy ride, gentle uphill along a river valley to another swimming pool.
Vicdessos to Aulus-Les-Bains, 36 km Wednesday morning, much cooler which we were initially pleased about for our first big climbing day, the street name leaving town (photo) was 'route de suc' we hoped it would not be.
First col of the day, Port de Lers - 1517 mt,  a steady 13 km up then down for 5 km and a coffee stop. Sheldon from NZ had come an extra 40km than us and caught us at 1 pm, then he powered away, oh to be so young! A tougher stretch going up to Col de Agnes, cold at the top with misty drizzle. 8 km down with our rain jackets on, we were so cold at the bottom I turned around and went back up a km trying to warm up. It had gone from 40 to 4 in one day. Slightly hypothermic we changed into dry clothes in the park, had a hot drink and lunch, chatted to the local tourist office guide who was out on his lunch break and on his recommendation stayed in a gorgeous recently renovated hostal/hotel in the beautiful village of Aulus- les-Bains. Lovely. There did not seem much point in continuing when the clouds were down and the view gone.
Thursday. Gentle 5 km climb over the Col de Latrape and then 18 km down to Seix. We had arranged to meet the tourist office guy before 12 as he was working in Seix for the morning, half way up the Col at 10.30 we decided we had better get a move on so had to really push it and then race down, got there just in time.
Lunch then another big climb up the Col de la Core, gradient maxing out at 8% and then whizzed down to a campsite at Castillion-en-Couserans. We watched Grandma & Grandad arrive with grandchildren and 2 donkeys carrying their load. The donkey had had enough, sat down and could not be moved. An entertaining half hour.
Trevor did the shopping, he arrived back with the well deserved cold beer and chippies but not one to pass up a bargain (those who know him!!) he had also purchased the shop special, buy 4 get one free , 5 cans of 'filets de Maquereaux a la Moutarde a l'ancienne' which sounds quite exotic in French and quite nice with a baguette but in kiwi language, mackeral in mustard sauce! Considering we already had 3 cans of the same and my pannier carries the food there was obvious disbelief on my face when he unpacked the bags. We had just descended, the only way out was up, no way was I going to carry them over the next 5 cols. I had to explain to him, amidst the laughter, that my pannier was not a pantry...to open and choose what to eat rather a carefully selected number of meals weighing the minimum amount possible.
Friday, onwards and upwards to Col de Portet Aspen, yummy fresh raspberry jam (which I could not resist) and local cheese being sold at the top, (I had to hide the glass jar of jam) We met a French family at the summit who had been cycle touring and  working abroad for 6 years. They were 3 weeks away from home, this was their 2 yr old daughters first time in France, she sat in a trailer behind her father and the 6 yr old boy rode a bike towed by his mother. Plus all their gear! Lovely friendly people, we chatted a while. A steep down passed the memorial of Casartelli, a tour de France cyclist who died after crashing on the descent.
Then up the Col de la Ares, a gentle 6% gradient. I think Trevor finally realised I had summitted all of the previous col's before him and put the pressure on with 3 km to go. I caught him up and powered away as he said, you go, I am done. Yeah right! He was right behind as we neared the top so we ended up 'sprinting' if you could call it that, at about 12 km per hour to the summit. Gasping for breath, legs hurting, neither of us giving up and giving the other cyclists at the top something to cheer about. Madness! But one more to me, I think the 5 cans he is carrying made all the difference.
There was a campground right at the top, perfect.
Saturday, a nice morning descent then we hit the base of Col de Peyresourde, a 13 km tough climb in the heat to reach 1569 mt. A cyclist going the other way called out to me, "Cor Blimey, what u got in 'em bags, onions?" Of UK origin I surmised!
A campground close to the top where I discovered the new tube of condensed milk had punctured and was all through my pannier. Some young guys returned to their tent nearby as I was squirting water to clean the last of the sticky mess off the picnic table, I think they immediately assumed I was some crazy lady with OCD and gave me a wide berth for the night!
Sunday, cooler this morning as we approached the summit and took the necessary photo, then a nice short ride down to Arreau through lovely countryside, where we decided we should stay so we could stock up on food on Monday. Tuesday is a public holiday, Bastille day and Wednesday is going to be the big day watching the tour de France, how's that for planning?? We are going to be dead smack in the middle of it.
Monday, after the big shop, which I did as Trevor is banned indefinitely... we set off up Col d'Aspin, 12 km to 1489 mt. Superb views all the way of distant peaks with the villages getting smaller and smaller as we climbed. Lots of trees and shade, an enjoyable ride. Many camper vans parked on corners along the way waiting for the tour. We had lunch at the top (photo) and decided it would be a good place to watch the cyclists as it was nice and open for a few kilometres. Loads of people already camping near the top but we decided to descend the 5 km to the nearest campground at Payolle and enjoy some comfort. It was supposedly full but they found a spot for our tent, incredibly cheap at 7 euro.  A lovely area with a lake and recreational places just off the road, many many camper vans most with bikes enjoying a few days before the tour.
Tuesday, 50 km, we considered a day by the river with a book but then settled on climbing the Tourmalet without gear to see the tour hype. A quick 8 km descent then 17 km up, loads of cyclists going both ways, it is the thing to do the day before the race,  most with a baguette in their rear pocket and luckily most of the camper vans were already set up so not too much traffic. Everyone was out clapping and cheering us amateur cyclists. It was a tough climb but rideable, it is pretty much a steep road up to a ski field with the chairlifts visible a few kms from the top at the ski village of La Mongie. It took us about 2 hours and we observed on the way the spray cans being used to write the names of the riders over the road and everyone getting into the spirit including a stray donkey wandering around.  Amazingly, so many people in one area and not a policeman in sight or appearing to be needed. (I think it would be different in NZ)
Lunch at the top, we enjoyed the great views over the valley. It was when we started to descend that we really appreciated the steep gradient that we had come up. Brakes on hard to stay in control it was hard to imagine coming up with our gear in 2 days time.
Wednesday, tour day. Baguettes and pastries purchased we walked the 5 km up to the summit of Col d'Aspin commenting in amazement on the stray cows wandering about complete with fresh cow pats on the rd and hoping they would not hinder the fast descent.  It was really hot and so many people staked out in full sun, in the spot they wanted to be, for many hours before the 3 pm arrival time. Not us, we sheltered under the shade of some trees and ventured down to the roadside just before the 'caravan' of sponsors rolled by. A half hour of cars and decorated trucks, vans etc tossing out stuff to the spectators. Most of it not worth carrying, we gave our booty to the nearby kids except for the pen, coffee bag and green arm band that said to exchange for a baguette at the 'Artisan banette' before July 30. A bit of fun before the serious stuff. We had a good view of the cyclists as they whizzed by on stage 11, they had already done over 100 km before they reached us, everyone clapped and cheered right until the last one went by. We had no idea who was winning the stage and even after bolting down the hill to a bar and watching the remainder on a 14 inch TV with a beer we were none the wiser as the commentary was obviously in French.  An awesome day, one not to be missed but I think those at home watching on TV would have much more clue about what was going on than us. A nice dinner out to finish the day.
Thursday, over the Tourmalet again! 65 km.
We set off early to tackle the climb before the heat. It was definitely a bit harder loaded up and took an extra 30 minutes or so. We had no snack food and were reluctant to stop at La Mongie on the way because every stop your legs cool down and its hard to get going again.  It is also just  4 km from the top and the steepest part of the climb. So we continued on slowly, digging it in on the steep tight corners near the top. No doubt Trevor had the legs today, 1 to him,  I was just slow and steady. Coffee at the top then an ear popping descent which tapered over 40 km. Tent just up before the thunder/lightning and rain arrived. Exhausted but a hugely satisfying day.
Friday, the 'pan' van arrived early. I couldn't decide what to buy so got 1 of each pastry.
Then it was straight into it again. 6 km up then down before the 18km ride up the Col Aubisque. The next 6 was tougher than the day before, tired legs probably not helping but some really steep pitches. Cow bells clanging all around, no fences here they just wander. Quite high up out of the tree line, we stopped for lunch after the bulk of the climb to Col de Soulor before the spectacular but not as steep ride around the mtn ridge to the top of Col d'Aubisque, 1709 mt.
A dizzying descent, Trevor flying by telling me not to wear out my brakes... I'd say the toughest day and again the summer storm about 6 pm, that was us again till 9 am.
Saturday, 48 km Still raining slightly we packed up late, stocked up the food bag again as France shuts down on Sundays. Then Trevor noticed his back tyre had totally delaminated. We found out the next bike shop was 12 km away and maybe open on Saturday afternoon so we went very slowly to there and they did reopen at 1pm. They had 1 tyre to fit the bike. Phew! A long afternoon ride through lovely villages, no big cols and this time we did manage to eat outside before the storm.
Sunday, 62 km, really heating up as we descend, now just in the foothills of the Pyrenees, with just one small col to conquer. Col de  then off down to St Jean Pied de Port, a lovely walled in old village. We stayed right downtown beside the river. A perfect place to end  our Pyrenees Peaks tour.
PS -  Trevor concedes I am the hill climber...

8 panniers + 2 handle bar bags + 1 tent + 2 chairs - 2 bikes = STRANDED !!

The week to forget... June 29 - July 6 2015
We had already decided this part of the coast of northern Spain was not the best for cycle touring. Lumpy, as in up and down roads, too much traffic, touristy and 3 x the price. We took 11 different roads to get around Santandar, checked out five campgrounds, all were full trailer parks which is perfectly fine for those needing to live there, the people are all nice and very quiet considering the amount of people around, it's just not the camping experience we enjoy.
Then onto Larado, although the town was a bit shabby the beach was nice as was the campground.
Next stop Castro Urdiales, lovely old buildings, nice swimming spots and great views out across the Atlantic ocean from the campground which was 3 km up a steep hill from town.
It was also festival week and lots of out of towners around which we did not realise until later.
We left our gear at the campground and headed into town to use the library computers and access the internet. It was my birthday too so we enjoyed a nice 'menu del dia' ( menu of the day) for a long lunch. I also got my haircut, and decided its a good thing my head is usually under a helmet or sunhat during the day as I think it looks its best when I am asleep! 
We locked our bikes up together to a power pole with our big thick sturdy lock alongside other bikes. The library was only open from 4 - 6 in the afternoon. About 5.30 someone came upstairs and asked if anyone had left a bicycle outside as some had just been stolen... 
Ahh, turned out it was ours. Some elderly men sitting on the park bench next to our bikes had watched as these two guys sawed through the lock and cycled away..11000 km we had ridden them and they were nowhere to be seen.
Not locals, Roma gypsies was what we understood via interpretation and I think the men watching may have been too intimidated to say anything, or maybe just did not want to get involved, who knows. Basically we put too much faith in our lock. A lovely helpful lady who spoke some English took us up to the police station where we waited for a very long time, finally giving a statement and doing the paper work, it was quite comical and totally a waste of time despite having good descriptions of theives and photos of bikes their parting comment was "if you see your bikes give us a call" and I said yes if you see our bikes give us a call!!
So it was a pretty sorry looking couple carrying the shopping bags up the steep hill to the tent that night.
We do have travel insurance but it does not cover bikes or any sporting equipment over 3 years old.
Then all the "what do we do now?" questions arose with many options discussed but we decided we wanted to carry on, on bikes, so sussed out the next morning what was available in town. There were a couple of bikes that were ok, low spec but getting racks in was going to take time and expensive. Even though our bikes were 10 years old and not worth much in NZ it was going to be expensive to replace them ready for touring. Trevor had a sleepless night, but I figured there was not much point in both of us feeling grumpy... So I posted our stranded pic on Facebook - a problem shared is a problem halved.
The positives of social media! Taupo friends had just finished cycling the Pyrenees in France and offered to leave their bikes in Toulouse for us to pick up.
We got that fantastic offer 6 pm Wednesday evening. Grabbed a couple of big plastic zip up bags from the cheap Chinese shop to put our panniers in. We packed up in the rain the next morning, sadly having to leave our chairs behind. The lovely campground owner gave us a lift to the bus station and we headed to Bilbao the nearest big city with transport options. The only really viable option was the overnight bus to Toulouse leaving at 11.30 pm. It was midday, we stored our gear,  4 euro, then explored the city, visiting the Guggenheim museum, wandering along the river, looking at our watches, cafe hopping, looking at our watches... Finally a pizza and beer at a cafe, then bag pick up at 9.30, on the bus at 11.30 , adios Spain,arrived in Toulouse, France at 5.30 am. We literally lugged our bags to the more comfortable train station, waited for Toulouse to wake-up and googled bike shops etc as we needed to get front racks. Bag storage was going to be 19 euro so we looked nearby for a hotel but they were 70 euro and we could not check in till later but a helpful young reception guy said we could store our bags at his hotel. We found our way to the hotel where Maria and Warwick had left their bikes, we had forgotten the bike tools to lower the seats, they are both taller than us, but managed to ride back to our gear, adjust them, then set off around the city looking for what we needed. Navigation is not our strength but on this trip we have discovered Trevor can read maps and I can always find our way back to where we started, like our tent, our hotel, the train station without the map so that's a bonus. But Trevor still follows me calling out, "are you sure you know where you are going?"
We  managed to find some front racks, then back to our gear and then Trevor fitted the racks under a tree beside the river. Everytime we left the hotel where our gear was stored the young guy said he wouldn't be there when we got back because his shift was finished but he always was so finally I said, I thought you were going home and he said, "I did but I came back, I'm in love with the waitress" So funny.
Loaded our gear on, cycled down one canal and onto another and 6 km up to the campground. Sounds straight forward when I write it down, but it was anything but. Toulouse was in the middle of a heatwave, it was 42 degrees! Navigating around a strange city was just a tad stressful, we were tired, finally showered, tent up and food purchased by 7.30 pm. I did laugh though when I realised I had not taken my shoes off for 36 hours. But hey we had bikes so it was all good.
We decided to replace the back racks and headed into the city and found this cafe/velo store opposite the train station. An aging hippy guy with bike expertise, parts, tools for anyone to use and a think outside the square mentality. You just rock up, explain what you want to do and if its possible do it. He had some back racks, just 25 euro each and found some brackets to attach them to the frame. Trevor did the work, at least 50 people dropped by with all sorts of broken bikes to work on while we were there. His motto was if you are happy then I am happy. Such a great place. We left him all the spare parts that we didn't need from our other bikes.
We had small front bags that clipped onto our other bikes, the bracket was on the handle bar rendering them now unusable. But we purchased a basket for the front to put one bag in. It would only  fit on Trevor's bike. It's so French!
Sunday we finished getting everything ready, speedos, riser bars, grips, pedals etc, bike accessories are a quarter the price here compared to NZ. So many cyclists everywhere, we enjoyed the afternoon exploring downtown central Toulouse around the river, lots of cycle ways and no traffic on Sundays. No shops open just cafes and restaurants.
Monday morning dawned bright and still so hot but we were happy to be 'On the road again.' Pyrenees here we come.