A change of train

June 8, 2025

Reaching Spain. We think.

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So. I was expecting two things today. A border crossing. And a wholesale shop closure.

In the event, I'm not sure whether either really happened.

I got up for the usual breakfast of bread and jam with fripperies, and then planned a short walk into Dax again. I knew that the central supermarket was open and I wanted to get some supplies in to make a sandwich for lunch. I also grabbed some nuts, and some jelly sweets, just to see me through in case of emergency. Stepping outside, I took it as a good omen that there was also a chemist nearby which had opened. It gave me a chance to get some bite cream for the various fly attacks I'd suffered the night before. I think they might be attracted by the fruit-scented hotel soaps I'm using to wash clothing with. (Today's soap was vetiver, which I was hoping might be more repellent for them).

All of this meant that I had the latest start so far, a shade after ten, with a projected 66 mile, 5 hour trip ahead of me. And honestly, it was probably the best day's riding so far.

We exited Bordeaux via a series of urban roads, and headed into the suburbs. I was dodging cars, watching for pedestrians, spotting cycle lanes, and generally exercising those cycling muscles that just hadn't been required the previous day, as we trudged through endless ranks of massed trees. And although we did hit the countryside, which is a great thing too, it was varied - and contained shops which were open.

The first one was at the ten mile mark, in Saubusse. A lovely little villagey shop, selling proper produce, and with a rotisserie van outside. I took the opportunity to grab a drink - because it was pretty warm, and I wanted to conserve fluids if I could. Ice cold apple juice, which I downed in thirty seconds flat, and headed back off down the road.

It might not look much, but that shop on the left was an oasis. I felt like we had a more survivable distance to go, now, if other provisions couldn't be found.

The journey continued with a variety of scenery. We got back to a riverside path for a while next to the Adour river, which reminded me of the Nantes-Brest route a lifetime ago. We crossed a wetland nature reserve at Orx, the road a single strip through deep water on either side. And we did hills. God, I'd missed those. With sweaty challenging up bits, and euphoric breezy downhill bits. Through the stunning french countryside, on meandering roads between settlements. It was just a great ride, and the weather was probably exactly what you'd want too: warm but overcast, dry, and with no gusting winds.

In a step up from Nantes-Brest, this river actually had a full-scale road next to it. Cars welcome. As you can see, we had it pretty much to ourselves anyway, for the few short miles we followed it.

The nature reserve. I couldn't see much nature, but it generally hides, doesn't it? Plus, my sunglass lenses were a bit sweaty at this point, which could also have been a factor.

We also did some major road sections. But apart from one idiot white van driver earlier in the week, french motorists have been unfailingly courteous and aware. Plus, there's generally a bit of hard shoulder to allow you away from the traffic flow a little. Actually, the point of this picture was the sign... seemingly, we'd hit the acknowledged route to Santiago de Compostela.

We also went through a lot of urban stuff. Tarnos had an all-day supermarket where I could get some fresh water, and a coke. And we whizzed through Bayonne, and the outskirts of Biarritz, without really seeing much of either, but enjoying being in the thick of things again. I'm starting to think that I might be in a minority as cyclists go... I like traffic, hills, and cities, apparently.

The other thing that was fun today was a bit of competition. I mean, they probably didn't know that's how I regarded them, but it was good to see other cyclists on the road. The first was an older gent with full club kit and carbon bike, who passed me as I was checking out some views. And then... slowed. I'd clearly been a target for him too. So I stuck with him for a mile, and then offered to let him draft me for a bit. "No, you carry on," he said. So we did. The second chap was a mountain biker, who we went past once but overhauled us at our photo stop in Orx. We managed to leave him behind too. And the final one was a resounding defeat. I passed one of those huge ebike things with a child carrier, and a sweet little girl in the back. I exchanged friendly greetings with her dad and then inevitably, we hit a big hill. Battery power won the day, and they turned off at the top. But I got a lovely smile from his five year old daughter, who waved happily as they buzzed by. I waved back. That felt like a little win too.

As we got closer to Spain, things got hillier yet, and we found ourselves right on the coast along the surfing hotspot of Saint Jean de Luz. It was pretty busy. I didn't think we'd see much beach action but we sat at the top of a hillside path and I munched my sandwich as a german guy called Klaus came across and exchanged cycling route tips.

Raven takes a breather... lunchbreak. To be fair, she does most of the hard work. I just spend the day sitting down.

The Atlantic! It was refreshing to be next to the ocean. Despite following the west coast down, we hadn't actually seen that much of it so far on the route.

I loved this shared cycle path. It was suspended directly above the water, running along the base of a rocky coastal stretch.

More beach. More lovely planting. But that's not why I took this pic. That bit over there? Spain.

I was looking forward to the border crossing. I know that it's been a few years since passport checks in Europe, but I'd checked the maps closely and knew that the change of country would occur halfway across a small stretch of water that we'd cross. I hoped I'd find someone french speaking whom I could prevail on to take the obligatory border photograph. But you know what?

Rien. Nada. Natives aplenty, but no sign.

The best I could do was look to my right and see that the train signs of the adjoining railway had changed to the Spanish national carrier. End of SNCF country, and into the world of Renfe. Sadly, I couldn't see a way to get Raven into that shot. But I reckoned we'd probably left France behind, which meant that I was going to have to communicate by hand signals now. Hopefully Raven would remain reliable, because I was unsure how I'd mime "bottom bracket issues" if the need arose.

If you translate this, it approximates to "Welcome to Spain."

The language change wasn't just French to Spanish, there'd also been a little Basquery going on for a while, further blurring the transition. Signs were frequently bilingual, and the city I'm staying in is referred to as Donostia-San Sebastian, the first bit being the basque version of the second.

Bilingual sign. And behind, hills. Proper ones. I'm not planning to head up the Pyrénées this trip... after a week of flat stuff, I'm not sure we've even got it in us now...

And at about four, we'd completed our navigation of the suburbs, and got to our central hotel. Or rather, the Komoot map planner thought we had, but Google and the hotel begged to differ. Somehow, it had got the location wrong by about a mile, but it didn't really matter, and once we'd arrived for real, Raven was locked into a secure store while I went out for a good long walk to investigate the city.

For those of you still counting: no more flans to report. 😟 That was possibly the only downside to the day, other than the sign thing. We can overlook it though. It had been pretty fabulous.

The city has three sections of beach. And gosh, they were busy. It was a very hazy day now, so some of the views aren't as clear as they'd otherwise have been.

Weekend pastime in Spain. Not a bad way to spend your afternoon.

The tumbledown old town, looking towards the Basilica of St Mary of the Chorus.

Hang on, did we actually make it to Rio??

Masochist that I am, we climbed that hill towards the Christ figure. It was the site of a fort, and of some great viewpoints. Here's one, looking down on the city.

The Plaza de la Constituciòn, the city's main square.

Heading back to the hotel after a good couple of hours on foot. This is the park Cristina Enea.

Today's ride: 68 miles (109 km)
Total: 563 miles (906 km)

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