Just Popping Off to Jerez Again.

[Sambo]

I feel the need the need for speed.

Oil filter replaced and filter cover back on, torqued up to 13nm, thread locked just in case. Check.

Sump plug and new washer installed, torqued up, to 13nm, with a light dab of Loctite, just to be sure. Check.

3.5ltrs of Shell 15-50 Ultra-treacle poured in, lovely. Check.

Fresh Motul 660 Olive oil in the brake and clutch lines. Bled the old fashioned way. Check.

Fresh Metzeler M9RR rubber all round. Check.

Permanent TomTom feed and connector installed straight to the battery. Check.

Fairing panels back on, torx screws all back in and we’re good to go.

Test ride, no chance.

Uncle Bazzer is due and I’ve just got time for a cup of tea. Half way through the cup of tea the clock struck 4 and no Baz. So I call him;

‘ Not like you to be late Baz’.

‘I’m ready, aren’t you coming here’?
‘No you’re coming here, I’m on the way’.
‘No I’m on the way’.

‘What the’! Scramble!

‘Give me 10 minutes to load the bags and I’ll meet you in a lay-by en route’.

I couldn’t gas up before because the bike was in bits, another delay.

So the test ride was on the way with my fingers crossed.

Good job I’d check, check, checherdy checked everything.

Marginally before I reached the agreed meeting point a bike is heading the other way, so I give him a wave and ‘Lo’ it’s Uncle Bazzer complete with a new lid.

Isn’t he going the wrong way?

I pull over into a side road, stop and let all the cars I’d just wafted by, pass me by. Dang!

I killed the engine and even with my ear plugs in I can hear Uncle Bazzer before I can see him. An 1199s with a full Akrapovic system sounds like music and I fire up and wave him on.

We’re off. A little later than planned but we’re off and there’s still plenty of time in hand.

I dropped it into the left hander at a roundabout and the new Metzelers made it feel like it was on rails. Don’t even think about asking what it weighs with me and luggage but it still feels really light.

Pure joy.

The thing about the new lids is; I upgraded to a new Shoie GT air complete with new Sena integrated coms system.

‘Luksury, bloody luksury’.

Well it would be but when we stopped off at gas station number one neither of us knew how to turn them on. I don’t mean pair them, I mean power them up!

I bought mine at the NEC show in November, tested communications with the Shat Nav turned it off, boxed it back up again and forgoddabout it and how to use it. I don’t know what Bazzer’s excuse is. Presumably he did the man thing and didn’t read the instructions.

Whatever I pressed didn’t turn it on. So we agreed we didn’t really need it and we’d sort it on the boat.

All that money and we still couldn’t talk to one another. You’ve got to laugh.

All went well, we arrived ahead of time at 8pm and given that we were getting cold we decided to get a sandwich so we could eat while wasting time on the quayside. Basil spotted an Aldi. Now, you can get into Aldi but you can’t get out, especially if you’re in a hurry. They are the rules. This woman had the temerity to be doing a full food shop at 8.15 on a Friday night. What a nerve! So by the time we got back to the ferry check in, the only queue was for cars and vans. No queuing for us, or standing on the quayside munching sandwiches. The men that just wave waved us straight on, it was a result. Apart from the customs guys with nothing to do. So we had to get off the bikes and open our bags. Now if I was going to smuggle something it wouldn’t be out of the country it would be into the country and I wouldn’t choose a motorbike to do it with because there wouldn’t be much of it. Call me old fashioned.

Cursory check, ‘you packed the bags’ etc. etc. Then Bazzer grassed me up saying I had a blow up doll concealed in my baggage.

I countered saying I needed something to warm me up. Ice broken. One of the guys says:

‘Cor, now these really are proper Superbikes. How fast will they go’? Yada yada, yada. Eventually they let us go and we we boarded.

Cut to the next day and there we are sat in the cabin with our helmets on and Baz says to me over the intercom ‘if somebody walks in now, they’ll think we’re a right pair of perverts’.

My reply was;

‘Could be worse, we could have been polishing our helmets’.

 

[Noobie]

Have a safe but great trip chaps

 

[Fight the streets Fmd]

I feel the need the need for speed.

Oil filter replaced and filter cover back on, torqued up to 13nm, thread locked just in case. Check.

Sump plug and new washer installed, torqued up, to 13nm, with a light dab of Loctite, just to be sure. Check.

3.5ltrs of Shell 15-50 Ultra-treacle poured in, lovely. Check.

Fresh Motul 660 Olive oil in the brake and clutch lines. Bled the old fashioned way. Check.

Fresh Metzeler M9RR rubber all round. Check.

Permanent TomTom feed and connector installed straight to the battery. Check.

Fairing panels back on, torx screws all back in and we’re good to go.

Test ride, no chance.

Uncle Bazzer is due and I’ve just got time for a cup of tea. Half way through the cup of tea the clock struck 4 and no Baz. So I call him;

‘ Not like you to be late Baz’.

‘I’m ready, aren’t you coming here’?
‘No you’re coming here, I’m on the way’.
‘No I’m on the way’.

‘What the’! Scramble!

‘Give me 10 minutes to load the bags and I’ll meet you in a lay-by en route’.

I couldn’t gas up before because the bike was in bits, another delay.

So the test ride was on the way with my fingers crossed.

Good job I’d check, check, checherdy checked everything.

Marginally before I reached the agreed meeting point a bike is heading the other way, so I give him a wave and ‘Lo’ it’s Uncle Bazzer complete with a new lid.

Isn’t he going the wrong way?

I pull over into a side road, stop and let all the cars I’d just wafted by, pass me by. Dang!

I killed the engine and even with my ear plugs in I can hear Uncle Bazzer before I can see him. An 1199s with a full Akrapovic system sounds like music and I fire up and wave him on.

We’re off. A little later than planned but we’re off and there’s still plenty of time in hand.

I dropped it into the left hander at a roundabout and the new Metzelers made it feel like it was on rails. Don’t even think about asking what it weighs with me and luggage but it still feels really light.

Pure joy.

The thing about the new lids is; I upgraded to a new Shoie GT air complete with new Sena integrated coms system.

‘Luksury, bloody luksury’.

Well it would be but when we stopped off at gas station number one neither of us knew how to turn them on. I don’t mean pair them, I mean power them up!

I bought mine at the NEC show in November, tested communications with the Shat Nav turned it off, boxed it back up again and forgoddabout it and how to use it. I don’t know what Bazzer’s excuse is. Presumably he did the man thing and didn’t read the instructions.

Whatever I pressed didn’t turn it on. So we agreed we didn’t really need it and we’d sort it on the boat.

All that money and we still couldn’t talk to one another. You’ve got to laugh.

All went well, we arrived ahead of time at 8pm and given that we were getting cold we decided to get a sandwich so we could eat while wasting time on the quayside. Basil spotted an Aldi. Now, you can get into Aldi but you can’t get out, especially if you’re in a hurry. They are the rules. This woman had the temerity to be doing a full food shop at 8.15 on a Friday night. What a nerve! So by the time we got back to the ferry check in, the only queue was for cars and vans. No queuing for us, or standing on the quayside munching sandwiches. The men that just wave waved us straight on, it was a result. Apart from the customs guys with nothing to do. So we had to get off the bikes and open our bags. Now if I was going to smuggle something it wouldn’t be out of the country it would be into the country and I wouldn’t choose a motorbike to do it with because there wouldn’t be much of it. Call me old fashioned.

Cursory check, ‘you packed the bags’ etc. etc. Then Bazzer grassed me up saying I had a blow up doll concealed in my baggage.

I countered saying I needed something to warm me up. Ice broken. One of the guys says:

‘Cor, now these really are proper Superbikes. How fast will they go’? Yada yada, yada. Eventually they let us go and we we boarded.

Cut to the next day and there we are sat in the cabin with our helmets on and Baz says to me over the intercom ‘if somebody walks in now, they’ll think we’re a right pair of perverts’.

My reply was;

‘Could be worse, we could have been polishing our helmets’.

Have fun!

 

[Char]

Jealous !!!

 

[Topbox]

Standard

TB

 

[Sambo]

Rain, rain,bloody rain.

It looked like rain when we disembarked. So we stopped immediately and put the wet gear on after we went through passport control, which last year took ages but they’ve really got sorted out now, we were through in less than five minutes.

From that point on it rained on and off all day. Bro 6 had spent last week touring in the Picos Mountains and it had been sunshine the whole time, b’stardo!

We headed up towards Riano dodging humongous piles of wet cow and horse shite in the road. It was a small twisty which would have been great in the dry, it was ok but it could have been great. I was dry inside but Baz said he could feel it coming through. Yuk. Maybe it was time for him to replace that twenty year old set of wets he’s got.

We’d been turfed off the ferry at 8am prompt. No time even for a cuppa so by mid morning I was in need ofa coffee. We stopped off at a cafe in a little village, three guys were standing outside at the door, the rain had momentarily stopped. They looked at us and we looked at them. They turned out to be English too.

“You’re brave on those things’

“Brave or bloody stupid” says Baz.

They turned out to be three very nice guys from Hexam doing a car tour of the Picos. The youngest one had just bought a very nice V4s Panigale and whom I took to be his dad also showed us pics of a really nice looking Delahay 2 seater he’d rebuilt himself, I think it was 1930’s. Fine job.

After a good old chat about Newcastle United and car ‘n bike stuff, off they went, not in one car but one car each! That took me by surprise but of course why would three guys tour the Picos in one car? I can’t imagine Baz coming on the pillion, even when he’s older. They had a couple of Porsch’s and I’m not sure what the other two seater was but it all made sense now.

We went to pay for our coffees and the bar owner explained that the other guys had already paid. They didn’t say anything but we wondered if they’d realised or not. If they did it was a very nice gesture. If they didn’t, either way its our turn next time.

They must have chuckled at us as they turned their wipers on, who could blame them. I wonder if they had intercoms between the cars because the bike intercoms were an absolute revaluation. Once we’d learned how to turn them on they worked much better but for some weird reason the Shat Nav was no longer taking to the helmet. As much as we tried to sort it, it wasn’t having any of it.

On the ferry we’d half watched an American ‘crash, bang, whallop’ film and I noticed a guy flying ahelicopter with one hand while saving the world with his other hand, say into his headset;

‘Copy that’. As an affirmative.

‘Ooh Baz, I like that. We’ll have to use that’. Much laughter. So all day it was:

‘Copy that’!

As opposed to ‘Roger that’. Which we decided we wouldn’t do as we swept by one particular gruesome looking local. I know you’re not supposed to say things like that any more but political correctness is so dull, I can’t stand it. Political incorrectness is far more fun and I certainly wasn’t expecting to see a Moose roaming freely around the Picos. Copy that?

No wonder the young generation aren’t happy, everything but everything offends them.

I’ve digressed, back to the rain in Riano. We had lunch, it rained. We had a coffee, it rained. Two Dutch guys turned up on the inevitable GS’s and when Baz appeared they were amazed at him and said they thought he’d be a 30 year old riding that thing. He wasn’t offended and it rained some more.

We headed off in the direction of Portugal noticing that ahead was very, very, grey and to the south it was much brighter. We decided to head south but it was too late, it chucked it down so badly we couldn’t see.

Well and truly soaked we pulled into a gas station for shelter which was just as well because we must have been pretty much out of gas. 10 minutes later the road was bone dry as we headed for Leon. The difference a bit of sunshine makes but the elements had one last twist for us, more rain south west of Leon.

In the evening Baz said, ‘go south young man. The weather will be better’ He’s right. He also said he wasn’t 72 after all, he’s 76!

“You’re 76! You old bastard, what the fk are you doing on that thing!”

 

[Fight the streets Fmd]

Rain, rain,bloody rain.

It looked like rain when we disembarked. So we stopped immediately and put the wet gear on after we went through passport control, which last year took ages but they’ve really got sorted out now, we were through in less than five minutes.

From that point on it rained on and off all day. Bro 6 had spent last week touring in the Picos Mountains and it had been sunshine the whole time, b’stardo!

We headed up towards Riano dodging humongous piles of wet cow and horse shite in the road. It was a small twisty which would have been great in the dry, it was ok but it could have been great. I was dry inside but Baz said he could feel it coming through. Yuk. Maybe it was time for him to replace that twenty year old set of wets he’s got.

We’d been turfed off the ferry at 8am prompt. No time even for a cuppa so by mid morning I was in need ofa coffee. We stopped off at a cafe in a little village, three guys were standing outside at the door, the rain had momentarily stopped. They looked at us and we looked at them. They turned out to be English too.

“You’re brave on those things’

“Brave or bloody stupid” says Baz.

They turned out to be three very nice guys from Hexam doing a car tour of the Picos. The youngest one had just bought a very nice V4s Panigale and whom I took to be his dad also showed us pics of a really nice looking Delahay 2 seater he’d rebuilt himself, I think it was 1930’s. Fine job.

After a good old chat about Newcastle United and car ‘n bike stuff, off they went, not in one car but one car each! That took me by surprise but of course why would three guys tour the Picos in one car? I can’t imagine Baz coming on the pillion, even when he’s older. They had a couple of Porsch’s and I’m not sure what the other two seater was but it all made sense now.

We went to pay for our coffees and the bar owner explained that the other guys had already paid. They didn’t say anything but we wondered if they’d realised or not. If they did it was a very nice gesture. If they didn’t, either way its our turn next time.

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They must have chuckled at us as they turned their wipers on, who could blame them. I wonder if they had intercoms between the cars because the bike intercoms were an absolute revaluation. Once we’d learned how to turn them on they worked much better but for some weird reason the Shat Nav was no longer taking to the helmet. As much as we tried to sort it, it wasn’t having any of it.

On the ferry we’d half watched an American ‘crash, bang, whallop’ film and I noticed a guy flying ahelicopter with one hand while saving the world with his other hand, say into his headset;

‘Copy that’. As an affirmative.

‘Ooh Baz, I like that. We’ll have to use that’. Much laughter. So all day it was:

‘Copy that’!

As opposed to ‘Roger that’. Which we decided we wouldn’t do as we swept by one particular gruesome looking local. I know you’re not supposed to say things like that any more but political correctness is so dull, I can’t stand it. Political incorrectness is far more fun and I certainly wasn’t expecting to see a Moose roaming freely around the Picos. Copy that?

No wonder the young generation aren’t happy, everything but everything offends them.

I’ve digressed, back to the rain in Riano. We had lunch, it rained. We had a coffee, it rained. Two Dutch guys turned up on the inevitable GS’s and when Baz appeared they were amazed at him and said they thought he’d be a 30 year old riding that thing. He wasn’t offended and it rained some more.

We headed off in the direction of Portugal noticing that ahead was very, very, grey and to the south it was much brighter. We decided to head south but it was too late, it chucked it down so badly we couldn’t see.

Well and truly soaked we pulled into a gas station for shelter which was just as well because we must have been pretty much out of gas. 10 minutes later the road was bone dry as we headed for Leon. The difference a bit of sunshine makes but the elements had one last twist for us, more rain south west of Leon.

In the evening Baz said, ‘go south young man. The weather will be better’ He’s right. He also said he wasn’t 72 after all, he’s 76!

“You’re 76! You old bastard, what the fk are you doing on that thing!”

Record 40 Celsius is on his way to you Sam, you are going to be roasted

 

[Sambo]

Really, better get some sunscreen for the days at the track. Yesterday was much brighter and better, as a result in the evening I said to Baz that I think I’ve got a bit of sunburn on my nose. Got to be careful with that, had a melanoma cut out of it a few years ago.

Baz is not snoring but my god the bloke in the next room is!

 

[Sambo]

Let The Sunshine
Let the Sunshine In.

When we got to the hotel on the first night everything was locked up and there was a sign on the door saying ring this number, great. It’s much more difficult to make someone understand over the phone and it took a while before the Spanish woman realised we were at the door of the hotel at that very moment. Several times I asked how long it would take her to get to the hotel whereupon the door opened and out she came, full of apologies.

Once installed we showered and headed off to the local bar and local it was. It was great to sit at the bar and soak up the atmosphere. 3 rounds of drinks and 3 rounds of tapas, total 12 Euros. So we gave the barman/owner 15 and he was so surprised he gave us a top up. Everyone was happy and it was good Tapa good beer and and very good wine.

For our efforts in the rain we were truly rewarded the following day.

The lady that ran the hotel couldn’t have been more obliging, we had a good breakfast and she brought out cleaning gear for our filthy bikes.

Everything was covered in road grime. After a good rinse she waved us off as we headed south easterly towards Portugal.

The sun was shining, the road was smooth and entertaining with left and rights, rises and falls and in an hour and a half or so we saw 1 truck, 1 van and 1 motorbike going in the opposite direction. On our side of the road there was nothing except us.

After doing a ‘factory reset’ of the Sena headset’s in the calm of the room, as well as turning off our phones, Baz myself and Messrs Thomas and Thomas were finally all communicating.

As we went along we agreed that it doesn’t get better than this for riding and if it was like that all the way we’d be well happy. Occasionally we’d go over a rise and you could see the undulating road stretch out in front with absolutely nothing on it. Total-freedom, it was bliss.

The downside of having such empty roads means there are no gas stations either. I zero the trip meter at every gas station and as we hit 150K since the last fill-up I began to get concerned. We stopped and plotted a route to the next nearest gas station, which turned out to be only 12k. As it turned out we made it there with ease, once again the constant cruising speeds had been good to us as opposed to stop starting reducing our range. We needed less than 9ltrs. Baz appears to be using fractionally less than me. We put it down to the fact that I’ve gone to 42 teeth on my rear sprocket but it’s only a fraction of a litre at each stop.

We headed up along the winding road past a fantastic old castle built high up on on a rock outcrop, with sheer drops all around it. As Baz said, you wouldn’t have wanted to try and storm that place, so we didn’t.

We headed along a tighter, twistier road that took us across the north eastern border of Portugal and onto Bragança.

All morning we’d splattered a lot of bugs, there’d been none in the rain. Tic, tic, tic thump, splat! As wewound our way along the deserted roads high up hills, down into tight tree lined gorges and up mountainsagain into the north eastern tip of Portugal, we killed some more.

It felt good to be alive.

Coffee in Braganca. It’s south but west.

 

[Sambo]

Salamanca.

 

[Sambo]

Badajoz

 

[Sambo]

Stopped off at a little bar an a village en route. The noise! If I can I’ll post a short audio recording of it later. Hilarious.

 

[Sambo]

Checked in for the weekend. Got a free upgrade because we’re regular offenders.
Baz said it hit 40 degrees on the way down. Cooler by the pool on Thursday.

 

[Sambo]

Thursday evening ride from the track to the new Marc Marquez 93 restaurant. They’re revving the guts out of the in-line 4’s bouncing off the rev limiters while standing next to them, smiling.
The madness has begun.

Two of them blew up. Blue/white smoke everywhere. It made me wonder how they were going to get to the track over the weekend.

 

[Sambo]

It was madness, in fact it was bloody awful on these bikes. Probably a couple of thousand bikes headed slowly for Jerez In the heat. We were sweating in our stripped down gear, our nuts were frying from the heat of the engine and we decided to abandon it and peel off. We went one turn too early and got onto the motorway in the direction of Seville, which meant a 50-60 mile or more round trip to get back to the hotel.

When we got back there was Sylvain Guintoli, Michael Lavertry and some more of the BT Sport crew.
Later we bumped into Sylvain again. As we went by I said I liked his technical commentary on the programme’s. He was very polite and had a little chat with Baz.

 

[NoGutsNoGlory]

It was madness, in fact it was bloody awful on these bikes. Probably a couple of thousand bikes headed slowly for Jerez In the heat. We were sweating in our stripped down gear, our nuts were frying from the heat of the engine and we decided to abandon it and peel off. We went one turn too early and got onto the motorway in the direction of Seville, which meant a 50-60 mile or more round trip to get back to the hotel.

When we got back there was Sylvain Guintoli, Michael Lavertry and some more of the BT Sport crew.
Later we bumped into Sylvain again. As we went by I said I liked his technical commentary on the programme’s. He was very polite and had a little chat with Baz.

I've made that same mistake and headed toward Seville from the track. It's a long way to the next exit.

 

[Sambo]

Into the Night.

Almost 4.00 am and the local Ferria is still going strong. Lots of different loud music, horns blowing but over all the sound of lots and lots of people talking loudly, very loudly. Don’t they know some people have a race to go to in the morning? It’ll probably go on until 5 or 6 am.

The mossies are eating me and the ‘Pimientos’ are repeating on me. No sound of bikes tearing around like there was all night last year. In fact the bikers seem to have deserted this hotel this year.

 

[Sambo]

Today, after spending the weekend at the race, we left the hotel just north of Jerez and headed down to Basil’s penthouse flat near Puerto Banús. The distance was more than a tank full so we decided to use up what we’d got and one refuelling stop would get us there. A simple plan but nothing is ever that simple in Spain. When Baz’s fuel light came on we pulled into a gas station only to be told there was no petrol. Oh, call me old fashioned. Diesel possibly but ‘gasolina, non’. By the looks of it all the bikes headed that way yesterday evening had drained the place dry and….it’s a bank holiday. Issa no gasolina.

A quick Google maps search and the TomTom showed another station 5 mins up the road. Only to find on arrival their electric box was tripping and the pumps weren’t working at all., whaaaat? Notttthhhing is simple!

‘Gasalina….no’!

‘Mierda’!

The station was on the opposite side of the road, we were about to pull out when the Guardia Civil showed up. Doh!

Blue flashing lights, so we turned around and went back into the station.

Don’t cross the road and don’t cross the Guardia. When we told them what the problem was they were a little surprised too.

‘Dos minutes señor’.

They went into the gas station and there was much commotion, soft drinks were given to the Guardia and everyone tried all the breakers repeatedly, much discussion followed, arms were waved. We waited and waited, eventually señor Head Honcho Guardia came and said;

‘Gasalina, non’! Which of course we’d concluded before they showed up. It was a good job we weren’t in a hurry, never be in a hurry for anything in Spain, it just doesn’t happen.

He explained we’d have to continue down the road to the next station, which of course, once again, was the plan before they showed up. Was it ok if we turn here where it says no U turns I asked because we are low on gas.

‘Siiiiiii, no problema’ and we were waved casually away, good but bonkers, rules can be ignored when the Guardia decide. He turned promptly and walked away so as not to witness us crossing the empty single lane and the instant I opened the throttle on comes my reserve light!

‘Mierda.’ I thought ‘Houston we have a problem’.

‘Copy that’.

We didn’t know if the other stations en route had been drained dry by the many thousands of bikes headed from the track and we couldn’t take the gamble, so we veered off to a little village which had not just one but two two gas stations, resultado. A young lad came up and asked how big the engine was, how fast will it go. They love the sports bikes, the amount of smiles, thumbs up and revving hands we’ve had, After the biggest fill up of our tour we were thankfully on our way again.

We headed into the heat and took another detour to Zahara de la Sierra for a well needed coffee. It’s a beautiful white village high up on a mountain with a castle, which I love to visit and waste away some time watching the world go by. You can safely park the bikes right next to the cafe’s which is ideal with all the luggage on. When we arrived we found newly installed bollards accross the road and various no parking signs. Cafe….non.

‘They obviously don’t want bikes here any more, let’s go’. Says my wing man through the headset.

‘Copy that’. Thoroughly disappointed, we slowly sweated our way off down steep narrow cobbled streets using the rear brake to keep the speed to a crawl while the TomTom tried to direct us back to the centre of the village. Which was fair enough because that was the waypoint I’d plotted. Ignoring the ‘WrongWrong’ as Baz has named it we wound our way off in the direction of Ronda. After following the zig zagging byway my wing man with his one eagle eye spotted a restaurant with shade and parking right in front, way down below us on the main road. It was the ideal place to sit outside, eat drink and relax while we watched the bikes go by.

On departure Baz says to me,

‘I wouldn’t polish your helmet in front of those two gay guys if I were you’. I did.

‘I bet you don’t put that in your blog’. I did that too and I put my jacket, lid and gloves on before striding out into the sunshine. Fair enough, each to their own. We wondered if they were into leather, we are, each to their own. Zoooom.

 

[Sambo]

We had a couple of days at Bazzer’s place, now winding our way back up the
Fantastic N502.

Uncle Baz gives the bikes a well neeeded jet wash.

Lunch at La Nava de Ricomalillo, before riding the Magic Carpet’ to Guadalupe.

 

[Sambo]

The shatnav said it would take an hour to get to Guadalupe. We saw 3 cars the whole way and it took 44 minutes. It was fun. I meant to have a look at my rear tyre but forgot when we got here.

I woke early and did some route planning and checked out hotels. This one turned out to be a good decision. Hospideria del Real Monasterio. I’m sure it would be a very romantic place for a stop over with the right person. Only problem is, I’m here with Uncle Baz. Doh!

And here he is. Not my type though.

 

[Dox]

Don't fight it Sambo...

 

[Sambo]

Yesterdays route from Cordoba.

 

[Sambo]

Todays route to Segovia. It’s not direct but it’s really good. Sweeping roads, fast roads, 2 x twisty mountain sections and various other bits in between.

Let’s hope uncle Baz doesn’t leave his back pack anywhere this time.

 

[Sambo]

At the he biker cafe for lunch outside Madrid. Lunch over here usually starts around 2pm, not before. We hit Avila at 2pm on a Friday and it was awful.

The location is point C on the map above.

Photos not attaching. I’ll have to do it later.