Milano mechanics

I slept in whilst Dave diligently got up at 6am and started planning what to do about his bike.  So after breakfast, he set off to a nearby mechanic armed with a notebook full of useful Italian phrases!  And I sat down to catch up on some things at the hostel.

It was really nice actually, I got to do some writing and catch up with my school friend Michelle, who’s just had a baby!  Can hardly believe it!

When Dave returned, he told me that they hadn’t really been able to fix the problem, but it was working okay for now.  So that meant we could set off.  We loaded up and went in search of lunch.  We got some paninis then headed back to the ice-cream shop we’d been to yesterday – so good!  We sat outside the shop watching the crazy drivers at the junction.  During the 10 minutes we were there, at least five cars parked on the junction and several others reversed or turned around in the middle of the crossing.  Bloody pandemonium!  Oh, and a guy was stood on the top of a rickety step ladder loading the roof of his van in the road.  And pogo-ing the ladder along every now and again to reach further over.

Finally at about 4pm, we were ready to go.  The roads were busy and we set off slowly amongst the traffic.  Approaching a roundabout, the car in front of me didn’t set off when I expected and it was too late for me to stop properly – I didn’t get my right foot unclipped from the pedal in time and toppled over helplessly.  Doh!  Luckily I landed in an empty bus stop!  I bruised my hand stopping the fall but otherwise only wounded pride.

Back on the road, out of Milan and onto the horrible busy road to Como.  It really was awful.  The ‘scenery’ consisted of shop fronts, apartment blocks, traffic lights, building sites and roads.  We had to stop every two minutes for a red light.  And the traffic was crazy!  Sometimes it was so busy that we had to crawl along the side of the stationary line of traffic.  Or worst, wait in it.  Ugh.

This is what most of the ride looked like

This is what most of the ride looked like

So there we go, we did 41km of miserable road.  But when we got to the end, we could see the mountains on the horizon!

Oh look - mountains!

Oh look – mountains!

We stopped at a roadside campsite and went about the miserable business of sorting ourselves out for the evening.  It was almost dark by the time we were cooking dinner and we were both in a terrible mood.  When you’re not enjoying the trip, you start to wonder what the hell you’re doing it all for.

Late to bed, but at least with no fixed agenda for the morning.

– Anna

Milan!

When we came out of our tent this morning the chap in the bungalow across from us came over with two big biscuit-cake things for breakfast. Which was nice! We surreptitiously squirrelled them away for later and went to have brekkie with Gerard and Jean-Marie. Jean-Marie gave me a coffee and Anna a tea, and we had a nice morning chat.

We headed off to the station to buy our tickets a little ahead of the French guys, as Gerard had got theirs earlier in the morning. Anna queued while I guarded the bikes. There was a little boy of about 3 years old running around by himself in the station wearing pink flip-flops. I think he was one of the refugee’s kids. We played a game where he hid behind an advertising board and peeked out, and I was scared stiff every time I caught him looked at me. This went on for about 20 minutes, but I thought it was better than the other game he liked, which was hurling a plastic kinder egg across the station, and hitting me in the legs. No parents appeared during this time, and no other adults seemed interested. We were in the middle of a game of stamping on the ground and making a loud noise when Anna finished at the desk. She came over and opened up the bar bag with the biscuits in the from this morning. The little guy saw them and was suddenly very interested, so we unwrapped one and handed it over before heading off, leaving him happily munching away. He looked pretty well fed and awake so I guess he’s adept at charming tourists into feeding him! I hope things work out for him!

We had some time before the train so we went to get some food and check out the town. We found a great market full of fruit and veg, cheese, meat and bread. All we could want! There was one stand which was dedicated to dried fruit. Anna was very happy!

Great market!

Great market!

After that we went to the seafront and observed it cynically. The sun loungers are out on the beaches, with each bar having its own little fenced off bit of beach. The coastline would be absolutely beautiful, but it’s really over-developed, the same as we saw from the train in France. It’s a shame they didn’t know when to stop! God, we’re so stuck up these days!

Anna in between shaking her head at the beach

Anna in between shaking her head at the beach

We headed back to the station and found our platform. We were waiting to get on the train when another touring cyclist turned up. He’s a professional cycling guide, and he’s been on a short trip to check out a route that he will be riding with clients in September. Sounds like a great job! It turned out we were at the wrong end of the train so we rushed down to the other end to find Gerard and Jean-Marie were already there and getting their stuff onboard. Five touring bikes and luggage seemed a tall order but the guard’s van coped admirably!

It was a couple of hours to our change in Genova so we all spread out and relaxed, playing cards, reading or chatting. When we got to Genova we checked the boards and found our connection was at platform 18. One the way there however, the boards seemed to say it had changed to platform 20. So we lugged the bikes and bags up the stairs to platform 20 and waited. There were some nice flowers growing up the walls.

Genova station flowers

Genova station flowers

Hm, the board isn’t showing our train yet…..I glanced over at the board on platform 18 to see – yep, 13.44 to Milan. Argh! We had to get the bikes back down the stairs, across to platform 18 and back up the stairs! We managed it in time and stood there sweating, waiting to see which end of the train the bike van would be at. It turned out by the way, that platform 20 received a train FROM Milan at 13.44, and a train departed TO Milan from platform 18 and 13.44. Anyway when the train pulled in we all ran down to the correct end and got our stuff on before the conductor had a fit, and we could relax for another 2 hours!

When we got into Milan we went into the massive concourse, said goodbye to Gerard and Jean-Marie, and……where’s Anna? Nowhere to be seen. Oh dear. Cue 10 minutes of barging around the station looking for her (she doesn’t keep her phone switched on). Eventually she phoned me, and we had a mutually angry reunion by the ticket inspectors. Apparently she thought I’d finished chatting to the French guys so she just walked off. She thinks it’s my fault for not paying attention to where she’s going, whereas I’m sure it’s her fault for walking off without saying anything.

Grumpily reunited we went out of the station looking back at the ridiculously elaborate building, complete with giant rearing horse statues above the door for a quick piccie.

Milan station. Understated style.

Milan station. Understated elegance.

On the bikes and – oh dear. My bike doesn’t seem to freewheel any more. We attempted to inspect it in the shade of a large building but were shooed away to the other side of the street by a security guard. Friendly! Taking the back wheel off I found that the cassette wouldn’t turn freely any more. While I was getting all mucky Anna was finding us a bike shop which was only a kilometre away, so we walked over there. They didn’t speak English but they managed to get the guy from the furniture shop over the road to translate. Long story short, the options were to wait 10 days for a replacement Shimano component, or get it back tomorrow afternoon with a non-Shimano but compatible part. The quick option was €130, there was no price on the 10 day option other than “expensive”. I thought a quick call the Greg at Enigma Cycles (who built my bike) was in order and he confirmed that the options on the table were not good. Option one sounded like nonsense and option two was a rip-off and would invalidate the warranty. So instead we retired to “Hostel California” a few km up the road to consider our options.

Things looked a it brighter after a shower, and we went out for some food. We walked a little way and found a pizza place, where we got two massive portions of pizza and a couple of beers for €18. So after that we went for amazing ice-cream as well (when in Rome). We wanted to find a launderette, so we asked the girl in the ice-cream shop.She didn’t know, so immediately went and collared someone on the street to ask them. That someone turned out to be Macarena from Chile, who is in Milan to support her mother-in-law at the Milan Expo 2015. The mother-in-law owns and runs “Rancho Doña Maria”, a shining light in traditional Chilean cuisine, and they are both cooking and representing Chile at the Expo. Pretty cool! She obviously didn’t know where the nearest launderette was, but instead she took us to her hotel and charmed the concierge into letting us use the guest’s washer and dryer. So we sat for 1.5 hours while our clothes got cleaned listening to Macarena tell us about her home, the Expo and her time in Milan, accompanied by an extremely comprehensive series of photographs. Anna and I were both knackered after a long day and it was amazing to just sit and listen to Macarena talking with very little input required!

After we said goodbye we wandered home with our fresh-smelling laundry, and went to bed. After an email exchange with Greg at Enigma I decided I will take my bike to a different shop tomorrow to try and get something sorted out there. Here’s hoping!

– Dave

Train to Italy

We had planned to get the train from Perpignan to Milan in one day, but it seemed like it was going to be a long ride, so perhaps an overnight stop just across the Italian border was in order…

At 6:30am the alarm went off and we packed up in record time (yesss, 30 minutes!) to get to the station with time for breakfast before the train.  There were quite a few bikes waiting to get on, but luckily the train catered to our needs!

Horray for French trains

Horray for French trains

The journey would take us along the coast to Marseille, then Nice, then across the border to Ventimiglia in Italy.  It was a beautiful journey – we even went over the sea for a bit!  Nothing but water all around, the train tracks built on an artificial bank.

Train over the sea

Land ahoy

When we changed at Marseille, we had some time to spare and went outside to take a breather from the journey and the noisy station.  The town looked pretty nice in the centre, but apparently has lots of problems with crime in the outskirts.

Ten minutes in Marseille

Ten minutes in Marseille

The next train also had quite a few cyclists getting on but we all managed to squeeze in!  The other five cyclists were also touring.  We got chatting to a Chillean-French guy who was doing a holiday trip.  Then when he got off, we spoke to two Frenchmen travelling together.  They had a bit of English between them and we attempted some horrendous French.  We were all going to Milan, so were temporary travel buddies.  They were then heading to Venice to ride east along the coast through Croatia!

When we changed trains in Nice, we spent ages on the platform waiting for the delayed train, which then tried to leave whilst Dave and I were loading our bikes.  We had to hold the doors open to get in and the two French guys got left on the platform!  Oh, and there was nowhere for the bikes to go, so they were wobbling around in the corridor annoying the other passengers.

Stressful loading in Nice

Stressful loading in Nice

But it was a short journey and we ate and chatted then got off in Ventimiglia.  The two French guys were also there!  They got a later train and we somehow arrived at the same time.

None of us wanted to go any further that day.  The station at Ventimiglia didn’t give the best impression of the town.  The ticket queue was out the door, so we tried the automated ticket machine.  The first thing it said when we pressed ‘English’ was “Beware of pickpockets”.  Then we noticed a whole hallway in the station full of people sleeping on cardboard boxes.  And armed police everywhere.  We decided to head for the campsite.

The traffic in town was very… um… Italian!  Dave was a bit stressed out doing directions for the four of us.  We were all over the road, bikes and baggage, with mopeds zooming around and lots of rush hour traffic.  Not the best.

We got to a big roundabout and I was in front with Dave trying to tell me which exit to take.  Then we ended up on what appeared to be a motorway!  At that point, we were committed to carrying on to the next exit and I pedalled like mad in front, not wanting to stay on that road for longer than necessary.  When I got off the exit and into a nice safe hatched area, I looked behind and only Dave was with me!  We waited for Gerard and Jean-Marie to appear safely and apologised for taking them on a motorway.  Oops.

On the busy streets of Ventimiglia

On the busy streets of Ventimiglia

Then we had to take a detour back to the right road and found the campsite.  We checked in and asked the guy about the people sleeping at the station.  He said they arrived on a boat from somewhere in Africa and they wanted to get into France, but France wouldn’t let them in, so they were trapped in Italy.  Sounds awful, being stuck somewhere far from home, waiting for someone in an office somewhere to decide what to do with you!

The campsite was between a busy road and a railway, so we found a pitch as far from both as possible but it was still noisy.  We were tired and hungry and unhappy about the last two days.  Whatever happened to the peaceful Portuguese roads, the mountain scenery and cheap food?  Stupid tourist coast.

Happily we found a nice shop and stocked up on pasta pesto, cheese and bread for dinner.  The four of us ate together and had nice chats.  Jean-Marie works in a butchery and brought some of his own made cured sausage to dinner, which was delicious.

Dinner

Dinner time

A few beers later and we were ready for bed!  Another travelling day awaits… Ugh.

– Anna

Down the mountain

We slept well at camping ilisa and woke up refreshed and ready for a long ride. We took forever to get ready however, and started having niggly arguments straight away, not a good sign! I’m not sure what it is, but some days even though we are doing exactly the same thing as the day before,  we can’t agree on anything!  Perhaps we will solve the mystery by the end of the ride.
Ready to ride

Ready to ride

Anyway we set of into a set of uphill switchbacks which warmed us up but did nohing to cool the tempers and we bickered (with occassional truces) most of the way to Mont-Louis. Mont-Louis is a beautiful old fortified town positioned near the highest point of the pass we were travelling between the mountains. It has an intact town wall, although the moat has been turned into a bus-park for the tourists who come to visit.

Across the drawbridge

Across the drawbridge

Inside the walls we were disappointed.  We had been looking forward to a proper breakfast but when we got out of the bakery with our goodies it turned out we had bought the worst croque monsieur ever sold, and some pastries which, while not quite in the same league,  didn’t make us feel like we were in France, land of the patisserie. The roads were shocking, and the public toilet was a disgrace.  Absolute disgrace I tell you. There wasn’t even a sink. There was a fountain outside dribbling water into a manky pool. This was also the public drinking fountain (where we are obliged to get our water). It took about 5 minutes to fill two bottles, which was ample time to observe the crumbling beauty of the place. Sorry for the moan, I think this impression was a combination of being grumpy and having very high standards after our experience of Spain and Portugal where they really know how to do a drinking fountain. Forget lions’ heads on the pipes, what you really want is from your public fountain is: clearly visible, clean water, good flow rate and lack of algal and bacterial mats in the basin. Spain and Portugal, well done. France, could do better!

Coming out of Mont Louis we started down the French side of the Pyrenees. We had read that the mountains drop off sharply on the French side, but we were still surprised to see a sign promising us 12 km downhill at a 10% gradient. This is very steep for those who don’t know! So we put on the jackets, checked the brakes and started rolling!
The road here was great, wide and smooth with exhilarating sharp switchbacks. The mountain dropped away below us on the right, just past the road barrier. The views down the valley were beautiful and formed a potentially terminal distraction from the corners and the traffic! It was loads of fun and cheered us both up a treat. We decided perhaps France is acceptable after all.
Anna preparing to film the fun

Anna preparing to film the fun

The fun!

The fun!

After a few kilometres we got to the next village, where the wide smooth three lane road we were on turned into a rutted narrow road with tourist buses getting stuck on the corners and motorcyclists trying to weave through to save that precious 5 seconds of their lives. Mental, but this was true of all the villages on this descent. Don’t know why, seems an awful error.
We stopped for lunch at a layby which provided further opportunity for bickering as I complained that the spot I’d suggested 2 km back was way better. Not that helpful you may think, but I thought it needed saying at the time! Cheese and chorizo sandwiches improved the mood again though and we set out to enjoy the rest of the descent in happy camaraderie.
More people having fun!

More people having fun!

We went through a town called Prades, which must have been forgettable because I’ve completely forgotten it. The road was busy again and we were being caught up by the rain which we’d been running from all day.
We needed to stop for a wee and we saw a tourist info centre but when we got there, obviously it was shut. We were forced to micturate in a field like animals. We noticed the adjoining property had added 2 feet of white plastic to the top of their wall, and wondered if this was to block the view of desperate tourists relieving themselves. We slogged another few kilometres on the main road before turning off onto a minor road that would take us all the way to Perpignan.  Phew!
Anna had been leading the way for most of the day, taking all the wind and giving me an easy ride. Seeing the road was now flat and we had a  tailwind, I gallantly offered to go in front for a while. It was great! The road was straight and smooth and we opened it up a little, cruising at 30 kph through countryside and small towns. Anna was enjoying herself getting a chance to freewheel, and she said it felt like we were a team. I think this means she thinks i am usually a lazy swine!? Which is true of course.
Running from the rain

Running from the rain

In this happy harmonious state we pulled into a supermarket and anna went to get some bits for dinner while I sat around reading.There was a battered old camper van countaining a couple of guys and emanating a lot of smoke and techno in the carpark, brother tourers! We waved to each other and I was amused to see that when their mate got back to the van, which was facing the exit of the car park, they turned around to drive the wrong way out of the entrance. I don’t know if it was deliberate but I like to think so. Yeah, stick it to The Man!

After stopping again for a bite to eat we carried on our rapid progress and made it into Perpignan about 4 pm. We rolled into the tiniest campsite in the world, which looked like it was a suburban house plot with the house replaced with some tents. We set up and then went to the station to try to sort out tickets to Milan. It turned out we could only get tickets to Vetimiglia which is just over the border, from there we will have to deal with the Italians to go into Milan. Then it was back to camp for dinner, which Anna heroically cooked using a pannier for a table. There were no tables or benches at the tiny weird campsite. We have to get the train at 7.40 tomorrow,  so we need to pack away everything we can in order for an efficient exit in the morning. I think it will take 45 minutes to get out of here and Anna thinks 30. I think she’s forgotten who she’s dealing with, the King of faff!
 – Dave

Into France

After another late night chatting, we were still tired when we dragged ourselves down to breakfast at 8:30am.  Breakfast left a lot to be desired but I suppose it did the job and we set off in the late morning.  At the main road, we waved goodbye to Joe and he set off up the hill towards Andorra.

Bye Joe!  Happy travels

Bye Joe! Happy travels

Then Dave and I popped back into La Seu to get some bread and enjoy the atmosphere in town again.

La Seu

La Seu

We set off along the Segre river, which we would be following upstream all day.  The road was quite busy again but the views were nice and we enjoyed heading into the Pyrenees.

Along the Segre

Along the Segre

Gradually uphill all the way (with a few ups and downs thrown in!), we climbed to 1300m by the end of the day.  When the road went through tunnels again, we took the trusty disused old road and stopped for lunch in peace by the river.

One of the old roads was blocked off but we took it anyway.  There was a dodgy looking area of rockfall, which we passed quickly!  I guess that’s why they built the tunnel.

Lunch on the Segre

Lunch on the Segre

Danger road!

Danger road!

We were getting pretty tired towards the end of the day and the closer we got to the border, the worse the scenery became.  The natural landscape was lovely – a wide green valley with the Segre in the bottom, rolling mountains either side, and glimpses of  huge rocky mountains in the distance.  But the lower mountains had been deforested, the valley was full of ugly new tourist resorts and the road was really busy.  We found a couple of nice little diversions and witnessed the atrocities from afar.

Ugly tourist town

Ugly tourist town

Eventually we crossed into France.  There wasn’t a border, just a sign that said ‘France 1km’ then 1km later, the signs were in French.

We came out of the half-Spanish, half-French town and rode up a gentle hill.  Then I turned around and saw a storm coming!  We pedalled like crazy to try and escape the rain and stopped in a village to shelter.  But the wall of rain passed on the hills about half a mile behind us and we missed it, phew!

Quick, outride the rain!

Quick, outride the rain!

Then we only had 10km to go to the campsite, so off we went.  The lady at the campsite was lovely and we pitched up, sorted ourselves out and headed to bed knackered.

– Anna

Lazy ride to La Seu

After chatting to Joe we went to bed pretty late last night. We decided that today we would just do a short ride, which would give us time to catch up on everything we’ve ben neglecting the last few days. We were ready to go about 11 in the morning, and as Joe was going the same way as us as far as La Seu we decided to ride together. It was a lovely cool morning, we had a tailwind and it was great riding with someone else to chat to! We headed along the busy main road from Organyà, We climbed gradually as we followed the river through a mixed landscape of fields and occasional gorges.

Joe also favours riding in the middle o the road!

Joe also favours riding in the middle o the road!

Riding round another tunnel - no cars!

Riding round another tunnel – no cars!

When we got to Organyà we were hungry so went to find some food for lunch. We found ourselves in the middle of a tightly packed street market, not ideal for the bikes! We got some bread and went to sit by the cathedral. There was a medieval fair happening which gave us something to look at while we prepped first lunch. Just then it started to rain, and we had to leg it with sandwiches in mouths to shelter under a covered pavement. It was full of cafe tables and other people trying to stay dry, but we managed to find a spot where we could peacefully eat lunch and watch the world go by until the rain stopped.

Anna and I decided we would stay in Organyà to catch up with stuff, so we told Joe we were off to find a hostel. He decided to come with us, and we were soon in the Hostelling International hostel wondering why on earth there was no kitchen. It’s still a mystery. I kind of thought that was the pint of hostels! Argh I just remembered, the showers were also awful – you had to press a button which gave you literally two seconds of water. If you wanted something approximating a continuous stream you had to just stand there pressing and releasing the button with one hand while attempting to wash with the other. Terrible hostel.

Anna and Joe did a quick shopping trip while I sat around reading about people who live with no money. It was really interesting – it sounds like its definitely possible, but you have to have a very different mentality and basically no fixed timescales for anything. Not sure I’m ready for that yet!

Despite having no kitchen Anna made a delicious dinner of stew and pasta (mmmm), and we sat about chatting with Joe and drinking some suspiciously cheap (but tasty) wine. It sounds like Joe has had an interesting trip. Leaving Sheffield in January and staying in a squat in Barcelona left him with some great stories (and a few flea bites!). He also told us a hilarious story about his younger brother soiling himself while trying to force out a fart on a family caravanning holiday. Apparently his mother wouldn’t let thin throw away the pants as they were a present from an aunt. Sounds like a harsh regime!

We headed to bed feeling like we had had a nice relaxing day, but hadn’t really achieved the intended goal of catching up with all our admin. Ah well, maybe tomorrow!

– Dave

Boumort hunting reserve

Yesterday we were just packing up and sorting stuff out, getting ready to leave today. We said goodbye to Juan-Anton in the afternoon and in the evening we went to visit Silvia and Rafael. They invited us in again and we had another tasty dinner and talked about Catalonia, its people and wildlife. Everyone here has been so warm and welcoming! It feels like such a nice place to live.

This morning we put our bags in the back of the taxi and freewheeled the 12 km to the main road, soaking in the gorgeous scenery and the morning sunshine. Then we met the taxi again in a nearby village and got taken 25 km uphill to another small village in the mountains. We locked up our bikes and waited with our huge pile of bags!

Heading down to Alinya

Heading down to Alinya

Enjoying the morning sunshine

Enjoying the morning sunshine

We had been invited to Boumort by Jordi, who arrived at 10am as promised, and we piled into his car. We didn’t know what the plan was for the day but were ready to go with the flow. And it turned out to be a good one!

Me with Jordi Palau

Me with Jordi Palau, overlooking Boumort

Jordi drove us off the tarmac road onto the tracks in the reserve, telling us about the place on the way. Boumort is one of 3 areas that Jordi and the rest of the team manage as hunting reserves.  Hunting is the main activity here but they are also starting to generate an income from ecotourism.  There are hides at the vulture feeding station and you can pay to spend a half day there watching the birds and taking pictures.

The reserves were set up in the 1980s and one of the first projects was to reintroduce red deer. (I guess that was rewilding before anyone started talking about it like that!) The only species that can be hunted on the reserves are red deer and wild boar. They are also reintroducing black vulture here. The project at Alinya is the same one as at Boumort, so the 45 birds live between the two places.

Jordi told us our first stop for the day would be the vulture hide! There were two other visitors that day too, so the four of us went inside with Jordi and watched the frenzy.  We saw hundreds of griffons, at least six black vultures, a handful of Egyptian vultures and at least three bearded vultures!

Waiting for breakfast

Waiting for breakfast

Incoming

Incoming

Tucking into some brains

Tucking into some brains

Fighting over the food

Fighting over the food

Black vulture among griffons

Black vulture among griffons

Bearded vulture strutting around at the back

A young bearded vulture strutting around at the back

Three of the four species here (Egyptian vulture flying)

Three of the four species here (Egyptian vulture flying)

After the frenzy, we set off again in the car with Jordi and he told us about the black vulture reintroduction project.  They have a holding cage at Boumort for the young birds and a hacking station on a cliff top.  Hacking is when you take young chicks from captivity and put them somewhere you want them to call home.  Then you feed them until they grow up and fly the nest.  They see the place where they fledged as the place where they were born and tend to stay there to reproduce when they are grown up.  It’s a good way to supplement the reintroductions.

We stopped for lunch next to one of the office buildings on the reserve, which had a fabulous view over the valley!  Nice place to work.

The history of Boumort is similar to Alinya – when people moved away from the area and abandoned the farmlands and forestry areas, nature started to come back. Now the forest is taking over the grassland areas, which is something they are trying to prevent. A mixture of habitat types is ideal for all kinds of species, and in a wild ecosystem, a mosaic of habitats would form naturally through grazing, fire, flood, landslides. But where there are no top predators and where fires are controlled, alternative forms of management are required, so they have reclaimed some of the old pastures.

Over the past few decades since the wolf was hunted to extinction in the area, a few lone wolves have been seen here, but not for 5 years.  And the lone wolves were almost always males.  Only one female has been seen in the whole region over the last 20 years.  Reintroduction of the wolf is not possible politically but if it comes back naturally, that would be great for the reserve.  In the meantime, hunters do the job of the wolves.  As well as trophy hunting, there is selection hunting.  You can pay a small fee to come and take out the deer that would probably be taken by wolves in a natural ecosystem.  They won’t have an impressive set of antlers, but hunters are always looking to hone their skills, and it’s an important function for the reserve.

As we drove around, we were soaking up the scenery.  The weather had been gorgeous all morning; sunny with a few fluffy clouds.  Now in the warm afternoon we drove along the north side of one of the mountains and enjoyed the lush cool forest.

Jordi had said that he could only spend the morning with us, but it was almost 4pm when he dropped us back by our bikes.  Ah, Spanish midday!  Then we said our goodbyes and he headed back to the office to carry on working, whilst we got our bikes together to set off.

Managing three reserves must keep Jordi very busy!  We feel very privileged that he spent the day showing us around.  It was the perfect day trip.

We got back on the bikes and headed back up to the pass.  It was only 5 km to the top, then we got to ride downhill the rest of the way!  It was happily overcast and we enjoyed the journey.

Going up to the pass

Going up to the pass

At the top

At the top

Going back down to the valley

Going back down to the valley

That evening we got to a campsite in Organya, set up, showered, laundered, cooked, ate and were about to pack up when another touring cyclist arrived.  He rode into the middle of the camping pitches, dismounted, and promptly dropped his fully laden bike on the ground.  Thud.  We gave him a wave and he set up before coming over to say hello.

Joe is from Sheffield doing a tour around Europe.  He set off in January (!) and is about to make his way back home.  We chatted until it got dark, shared some food and headed to bed.

– Anna

Vultures up close

Today we were to meet Aleix to help him with the vulture food. We met at 10am in the café in Alinya and had a chat over tea and coffee. Aleix asked to see our blog and when he saw that we didn’t have any pictures of the vultures, told us that we should go to the hide today with the camera!

First we took the trailer full of meat scraps to a building that has a huge fridge. The local slaughter house is happy to give the leftovers to Muntanya d’Alinya because otherwise they have to pay to dispose of them. The trailer was full of plastic bags of organs, tubs of bones, fluffy sheep feet and – most gross of all – skinned sheep heads with the eyeballs still in! We had to empty everything into barrels, sorted by type. Aleix and his helper Gerard do this every week. And Aleix says that after doing it for a lot of years, he no longer eats any meat. I can’t blame him, it was pretty gross! But we were glad to finally actually be helping with something.

Unloading the meat

Unloading the meat

We loaded four barrels into the truck and headed up to the hide, asking Aleix questions on the way. Then we were ushered into the hide whilst Aleix and Gerard unloaded the barrels onto the feeding point before driving away.

Putting out the food in the mist

Putting out the food in the mist

Inside the hide

Inside the hide

It was very misty and we couldn’t even see 100m, let alone the mountains on the other side of the river! But somehow the vultures knew what was going on and came swooping down within minutes. Griffon vulture after griffon vulture came down, legs forward, wings spread, neck stretched out. They flocked and ate and fought over the scraps. The mist cleared occasionally to reveal the mountains opposite and an overcast sky.

Vultures arriving

Vultures arriving

Joining the melee

Joining the melee

We watched them for about an hour, loitering and picking at the bones. One vulture in particular was pretty aggressive. He’s a young male tagged 97N. He kept picking fights with bigger birds and losing!

Coming in to land

Coming in to land

97N being a bad-ass

97N being a bad-ass

Young birds waiting in the wings

Young birds waiting in the wings

Scuffle (of course involving 97N)

Scuffle (of course involving 97N)

Once most of the griffon vultures got bored of picking at the bones, they flew off and only a few hung around. We saw a fox sneak out of the trees to steal a bone and carry it off. Then a little later we spotted a bearded vulture in the sky! We’d been given strict instructions not to take pictures of it until it is on the ground feeding because the movement of the camera lens poking out of the hide scares them away.

Departure time

Departure time for this vulture

Sly Mr. Fox

Sly Mr. Fox

The bearded vulture came in for another fly-over, close enough to see his dangly beard! But he didn’t land. A few little finches and a jay came to visit, then our time was done and Aleix came to collect us.

We drove down, picked up Gerard and headed to Alinya for a coffee. Aleix looked at our pictures and was very nice about them, although I’m sure he sees a lot of professional photos here! We had a lovely chat about Muntanya d’Alinya and Boumort, and about our route plans for the coming weeks. Then we had to say goodbye, but had a nice group photo taken by Gerard first.

I almost forgot this is our last proper day here, I’ll be sad to leave. Everyone is so kind and the place is beautiful. I suspect we’ll be back in Catalonia at some point!

Bye Aleix, you've been amazing!

Bye Aleix, you’ve been amazing!

– Anna

Vulture feeding and Catalan hospitality

A photographer came to the village today to take pictures of the vultures, and we went to help out. We were on our way to Alinyà when we met one of the local guys, Juan-Anton, and got chatting. It was really interesting hearing his story. He moved from Barcelona four years ago, and has rebuilt a pig shed and yard into a beautiful house, which he showed us around. There is a book about the area called “Alinyà, Muntanya Viva” (Living Mountian), and Juan-Anton showed us pictures of people butchering pigs and preparing sausages, which were taken in his house! We also saw photos of Lluis, who runs the restaurant, weaving baskets. The people here have many skills!

Rafael (Silvia’s husband) came to collect us and we went to meet Silvia and the photographer, Herr Storsberg, at the visitor centre. Herr Storsberg is German and speaks little English and no Catalan, and Silvia doesn’t speak German. Luckily Anna does speak German so we were soon chatting away, with Anna translating from German to English, and Silvia from English to Catalan for Rafael, who claims not to speak English (but after today we think his English is OK!).

Silvia stayed at the visitor centre and the rest of us set off back up the mountain with a babel of voices in the car, and six big barrels of carcasses on the back of the van. With no Silvia we had no English-Catalan translation service and we felt a bit sorry for Rafael driving along with the conversation going straight past him.

We got to the top of the hill, and found a luxury bird hide, with a toilet, drinking water and big thick walls to insulate from the sun. British birdwatchers would be green with envy! Herr Storsberg went inside to set up, and we set about scattering chunks of rabbit and sheep across the feeding area. The smell wasn’t great, but I think the worst bit was the recognizable bits of rabbit. They were so cute, and soooo dismembererd!

Nice hide

Nice hide

Stinky birdfeed

Stinky birdfeed

There were no vultures in sight as we started scattering carrion, but by the time we finished five minutes later there were about 20 griffon vultures circling overhead. We put the empty meat barrels back on the van as the first ones came in to land. They were massive up close! It was amazing to get such a good view of them after seeing them at a distance so many times, it felt like being in a nature documentary! Rafael was suddenly in a hurry so we jumped in the van and started to pull off. I asked if I could take a quick picture but he said we couldn’t because it’s very important that the vultures don’t get used to people. That’s why he wanted to get out of there. So we headed back down the hill and left Herr Storsberg to enjoy himself for 4 hours!

On the way back we started trying out our Spanish on Rafael. I managed “Le vultures es aqui rapido” (hopefully that’s something like “the vultures is here quickly”). Not exactly Cervantes, but he understood and started telling us about the vultures in a mix of Catalan, French and English. In totally natural situations, it is actually the ravens that are usually the first to the carrion. The vultures have amazing eyesight and they look for the brilliant black of the ravens to identify feeding sites. Here they are also accustomed to the white van with the red barrels as well as the various feeding sites so they are even quicker to lunch! This conversation was a good ice-breaker, and after that we were less shy about trying to talk to each other. It was a nice drive back down the track feeling like we could actually communicate a little bit in another language.

We were dropped off at home while Rafael went and did more work. Anna pursued her journey to become the Ultimate Yogi (she’s at the start at the moment), while I read my book and took photos of things.

Nice butterfly I photographed at some point today

Nice butterfly

After a few hours Rafael came back and we went to pick up Herr Storsberg. He was pretty happy, he saw loads of griffon vultures and a black vulture. He saw a bearded vulture (the money shot) flying around, but it didn’t land. He plans to come back in October for another go at it!

Picking up Herr Storsberg

Picking up Herr Storsberg

On the way down the track Rafael pointed out an impressive looking peak with a little village nestled under it. The peak is called Eagle Mountain – very appropriate! Back in Alinyà, Herr Storsberg wanted to buy us a coffee, so we went to Cal Celso and looked at some of his previous photos while we chatted away in our various languages. He’s got some great pictures, if you want to check them out, have a look at his website here.

Eagle Mountain

Eagle Mountain

After saying goodbye to Herr Storsberg, Rafael wanted to move two of his horses up to El Ribatell where we are staying, so we helped him prepare some electric fencing, and later on we went with him and the kids, Joaquim (who is 11) and Carel (who is 5) to collect the horses. Rafael was leading one of the horses with Carel riding. Anna, Quim (pronounced Keem) and I were walking along behind, occasionally chasing on the other horse who was determined to try and eat every bit of grass in sight. We were halfway back to El Ribatell when it started to rain, massive fat drops. Two minutes later we got the rest, a heavy downpour which soon felt cold. Rafael told us to wait in an animal shelter while he sorted out the horses (we always suspected he didn’t really need us there!) so we hung around trying to learn Spanish and Catalan from Quim while Carel played in the straw. We saw a mouse climbing the wall, which was a good opportunity to learn a new word (ratolí). Rafael was back pretty quick, and told us to wait, he was going to get the car, take us home for dry clothes, then take us the their place for dinner!

We didn’t need to be asked twice, and we were soon sitting in Silvia and Rafael’s beautiful old house in front of a massive fire chatting with Quim while Rafael prepared dinner. Carel didn’t talk to us much; she was intent on trying to strangle Quim – but in a nice way. She was shouting “I love you – you’re in the prison!” while hanging onto his neck. Eventually we managed to distract her by playing a card game, and that kept us busy until Silvia got home. Rafael knocked the fire down to embers and cooked the meat for dinner (lamb, beef AND duck) over them, and then we sat down to the most delicious meal we’ve had for ages. Loads of perfectly cooked meat with a mushroom sauce and a cream sauce, salad, ravioli, catalan tomato bread (Pa amb tomàquet) with a tasty white wine (they had red but refused to serve it as it wasn’t good enough!).

We chatted about the food, the area and the lifestyle over dinner. Silvia said the only thing she misses from living in Girona is the people she worked with, apart from that everything here is better. I can believe it!

The good life at Rafael and Silvia's

The good life at Rafael and Silvia’s

At about 11 pm, Carel started complaining that she was tired – the first time Anna and I have seen a child actually ask to be put to bed! So Quim and Carel went to bed while we had a dessert of delicious yoghurts from one of Rafael’s many jobs working at a dairy farm. We talked a bit more about the forestry project, and the way that the two Foundations that are active in the valley work together to try and met their respective goals.

Finally it was time to go, and we got our stuff together. We were planning to walk back but Silvia insisted on driving us, saying that the curtains in the village would be twitching if we were left to walk home! On the way back we were found out that Rafael and Silvia have been together since she was 15! She said that she’d never found a better man. Aaaah!

– Dave

Digging day

Today we were weeding the aromatic herbs! We set off on the trail to the garden around 9am and the half hour walk too us until 10:15am. We may have been distracted by the beautiful commute and a detour to the spring. There were butterflies everywhere, enjoying the warm stones and the juicy wildflowers.

Today's commute

Today’s commute

At the spring - where Alinya village water comes from

At the spring – where Alinya village water comes from

When we finally arrived at work, we thought how lucky we were to have this as our workplace for the day.

At work

At work

Dave working hard

Dave working hard

We set to work on the first plot of thyme, digging out the flowers and grasses growing up between the herbs. After about an hour and a half, we stopped for some cake and surveyed our progress. It wasn’t looking good for an afternoon finish! We had done the smallest and least overgrown of the five plots at it was almost midday.

The strategy after lunch was for me to get to work on the lavender and oregano, which didn’t look too overgrown. Dave would get going on the lower plots, which were more weeds than herbs!

By the time I’d got the worst of the weeds out of the top three plots and Dave had cleared a good chunk of one of the lower ones, we were in need of a break and some more water. We headed back down to the spring to fill up the bottles and cool off, then planned to go back to work. But the weather had other ideas!

We walked back to the plots as a few drops of rain were starting to come down. By the time we got back it was properly raining and we sheltered under the pine tree to have some food and wait out the weather. Then a cold wind blew in from the south, where a dark cloud was looming. A rumble of thunder came to us on the wind and we packed up to head down.

Stormy walk home

Stormy walk home

Just a few minutes later and it was raining heavily – or is that hail?! Huge hailstones were bouncing down, smacking off our raincoats and drenching our legs. It wasn’t too cold though and we quite enjoyed our walk back. I even went barefoot for a bit once we were back on the road. It feels great to walk barefoot in the rain, I can recommend it!

Across scree slopes

Across scree slopes

Back towards the village

Back towards the village

We got back home soaked through and had to have our cold bucket showers in the torrent (much less pleasant than it usually is on a hot, sunny afternoon!). Then we dried off and made hot chocolate and felt a lot better. Time for a yoga class before dinner to loosen up those ham strings.

The chilly water we shower in

The chilly water we shower in

All afternoon the rain and thunder carried on and even when it stopped in the evening, it was still humid and the sky was moody. Our laundry is still drenched even though we hung it inside. So different from a few days ago!

Tomorrow I’m not looking forward to wearing my wet clothes, but we are looking forward to spending the day with Aleix talking about vultures!

– Anna