In early March 2016, I found myself in a deserted coach station in Spain. At my feet lay my bike, wrapped in industrial size bin bags. Next to it, my four panniers rested in a line ready to be mounted on the racks. And I stood in front of them, the reality of my journey slowly sinking in. Eventually I hooked the panniers to their rightful place. I got on the bike and off I went. This is what I saw.
For 32 weeks, I will post a batch of photos every Monday morning.
Later words and sounds will come. But for now, I’m going to share what I experienced through the photos I took. If you miss a post, go to this page to find all the links.
Food is a major aspect of any cycle tour. And I can’t complain on that regard. I gorged on oranges and lemons picked from the trees, spoiling myself to the point where all oranges and lemons in France and the UK feel tasteless and dry. I cooked sardines, ate too much cheese, and comforted myself with chocolate and sweets. And occasionally I was treated to a coke bottle, wine, barbecued fish, soup, and many many pastries.