Diary

Switchbacks Road odyssey

 

As per normal the wait for these things seems to take an age slowly building momentum until the last minute panic kicks in with the realisation that oh my god were all off to Spain tomorrow. But this time it had a twist, egged on by endless mountain bike DVD footage and sky channel extreme a road trip was the order of the day some 1400miles worth of road trip in fact. Mr Big , Mr soup, Mr Leftster and Mr Goat making the initial outbound journey Mr Spesh following on via plane the following day to be swapped out for the return leg when Leftster would hit the plane for the return.

A cold October Friday it was time to lock and load, Tia prepping the boys a lunch box any school boy would be proud of, awwwwww bless. Navara airways full to bursting point with more bike bits than Evans cycles and about £15K plus worth of bike thrown on top for good measure it was wagons role to hit the 11 o clock ferry from Calais. Missing the cut off for that one it was the midnight crossing or nothing. Still into the wee small hours our boys hit France and made off into the breaking dawn and the mind numbing 800mile plus motorway section to the Spanish boarder. The cabs oxygen supply taking a battering due to all the belching and guffing it was crossing Mr Big’s mind already about a full valet on the return, the local fly’s even turned back at the window edge it smelt that rife!

With the rugby scores and updates being texted across Europe the Reservoir goats pulled into town, aaaahhh Bubion just as we left her. Quaint white washed Moorish houses and apartments and streets that gave you a work out every time you ventured out not to mention the in bread cat-dog’s and dog-donkeys. No sooner had the scramble for rooms reminiscent of a young one’s sketch the boy’s took up there rightful place in the local bar and normal play was resumed. Rumour has it the first day’s riding was a corker with a large group being assembled to join in the fun, Anita (Rating very high on Shaaaaaaawing factor) and Chris we’ve seen your face making shapes at some raves for sure AKA Hansel &Gretel, Bang & Olufson AKA Geoff & Sture? Debbie Go USA ! ! from the USA land of the free ? What native red Indians? Bloody immigrants ?

Mike well he was as good as ever I’m sure with a few less follicles up top? “Shave it” and Tony was back in town and sporting a very nice Phil Oakley hair doo. No sign of the Yorkshire whippet Robin and the terra hawk with the squeaky voice, yes Mr Soup would equipped with a brown paper bag and ear plugs. See business as usual in little sleepy Bubion – I’m sure Mike is the local mafia Don! Mr Spesh touching down late on Sunday and to see the mighty navara with Mr Big at the wheel was a welcome site.

Tales of the road odyssey ensued as we wound our way out of Granada GRX, also the guys took in there first ride of anger, on the menu was the great escape, Don Juan just to get you off ! Before the inaugural beers and tapas before it was home for hot showers a quick check of the man bit’s and more beers at the local taverna. Apparently Debbie giving Mr Spesh’s trusty steed a test run as her bike had been lost by the local donkey baggage handlers. We rolled into town to be met by half cut goat squad in fine form and Mr Soup aka Joe Longthorn-Westlife was bang on the case of the American lass. A couple of beers and it was time to check out our new apartment! More like hotel by the looks of the size of the place, more rooms than hotel California and the smallest bath tub/shower in the world has put many a courting couple in hospital.

Mr Spesh