Margalef.
From Siurana I headed north to say hello to Toni and his brother Jose at the Villanova de Prades campsite. I was pleased when they recognised me and called me by name. Toni and I discussed medial epicondylitis. Golfers elbow. Then on round to Montblanc and a wander through the very pretty town with a little shopping detour, before heading on to another climbing area, La Riba.
Montblanc
La Riba
Once you get passed the industrial buildings that make up the bulk of this small village and its reason for existence and head up the hillside, it opens up to reveal a very pretty gorge and a good crag. I took a walk down to the river and then to the refuge, which was open and doing a roaring trade while locals filled up water bottles from one of the permanently flowing springs in the front garden. I took a glass of vino tinto outside in the sun to soak up the glorious evening warmth and then strolled back to the van, parked all alone about 100 metres down from the refuge, in the towns football pitch car park. My space for the night. Scary !
La Riba football pitch car park
Refugio, filling water bottles
Refugio
As the sun set I tried to enjoy the solitude by cranking up some tunes and having a shower, all the things a man does when he's shacked up in a car park all alone right :) During the night there was a constant hum from the factories down the hill. I could also hear the river in the gorge below, and every sound, like the van cooling down and creaking scared me witless! I did sleep, quite well I think, and I wasn't buggered, robbed or murdered by gangs of Spanish thugs looking for innocent solo travellers..... but woke up about 6.45 and didn't get back to sleep.
I got up earlier than usual, nipped up to the refuge in the van and filled up the water tank in 10 litre instalments, it didn't take long, 4 trips if I remember correctly, proof that I've been pretty frugal with the water supply.
Setting course for Margalef it felt good to be driving again, alive, on the main road south. Again, suddenly the scenery changed and I was almost at Reus in no time, back to a city with its busy skyline and the golden arches of MacD's. I turned west, then back north and without any surprise at all, very quickly found myself on the slow, z bends of the Montsant park once again. The road took me up to the top of the Montsant cliffs and the views were stunning. Properly awesome. This is such a beautiful part of Spain. The road went lazily down towards Margalef in sweeping zig-zags. I'm so used to those now, and throwing the van gently around them is getting to be second nature, though I have come close to the Armco barriers with the back end a couple of times.
I stopped a little short of the village and parked at the refuse bins then took the bike up the north valley 'Panta' road to the dam to see if the fat boy would get up there ok. Just breathtakingly beautiful scenery all around. I was almost in tears once or twice. I'm not sure if it was from the shear beauty, or the fact that I couldn't actually enjoy the climbing....! Climbing has taken me to some glorious and wonderful places. None more so than this.
Margalef bike stop
I'd forgotten how gorgeous it is here. Or did I actually ever realise it? When I came with the boys 8 years ago I don't think I appreciated it at all. Maybe doing it alone gives you chance to open your eyes, to see the beauty without rushing from one climb to the next. Or maybe its just that I'm a little older and can see it better now? From memory I don't think we went as far as the dam... God we missed some awesome views. We didn't go to the village I know that for certain!
Margalef Dam
I cycled back to the van, passed it and carried on down to the village for a look. Pretty quiet, but pleasant.. I took the van carefully along the gorge road to the dam and went for a walk. I thought about staying here for the night but decided to go to the village where I'd seen a few vans parked, and perhaps I'd be able to find a cafe or the refuge, or both and do some washing, and get some wifi. Bingo, hopefully on both but for sure wifi in the cafe. I was offered the e2 wine, and the e1 wine... I had both to compare and contrast, and you do get what you pay for. The e2 was room temperature and very nice, e1 was straight out the fridge and just about borderline ok. I left some of e1 and went back to the van and bed...
9a.... anyone?
I'd like to go home now I think..... Go and get this elbow fixed. Part of me can't see the point of trawling around European climbing venues only able to tickle the 5's and perhaps low 6's when I could go home and rest up, then come back to it in May, fresh and fully serviceable. What I'm trying to figure out is the best way to go. Do I store the van and fly? If so, where? And how much am I prepared to pay for it? Or, do I just make it a tourist trip and drive to Athens, and maybe even Kalymnos, I've always sort of fancied that idea anyway.
I could go as planned, via some of the climbing areas I'd looked at along the way. So far they have provided some great places to park up ( I haven't paid for a camp site once), and I have the added security of being with like minded people in some of them. Across the top of Italy, Slovenia, then head south.
Unfortunately, I'm not very good at making quick decisions at times like these. I like to think things through. Its tough, especially in this situation where I'd like to go to Themi as quickly as possible and get sorted, meanwhile part of me is enjoying the journey itself.
A big part of me wants to climb SO much. Its like a drug. One I can see, touch and taste a little bit, but can't actually enjoy to the full. So inside I'm torn about just what to do, almost hoping that something forces my hand one way or the other. Usually writing it down helps, so here's hoping!
I went for a good hard bike ride this afternoon, up the hill out of Margalef, after cycling up the southern gorge and climbing a little on the Bloc Du Park, a massive boulder by the car park at the head of the gorge. It was a slab so I figured it would be easy on the elbow but I felt almost every move. No great stabbing pains, except for once. I tried to simulate a little steepness and hung gently, slowly putting my weight onto the fingers of my right hand. It felt ok, until I released the hold and then wow did it hurt! A shooting pain right in the elbow and forearm.
Dejected, I cycled hard up the hill for no other reason than it felt like I needed to push and keep pushing, to do something physically hard, to prove that something still worked. Sad git!!! Anyway the elbow still hurts on the bike. I noticed the other day that when I'm up out of the saddle, the arm action does annoy the elbow. No escape!! Nothing though is as sore on my elbow as washing and drying my face. I have no idea why that should be the most painful action, but its a killer, especially in the morning.
I like it here. I'd like to stay another day I think, maybe catch up with the Chulilla gang again before I go, wherever it is I'm going to go! I'm beginning to come round to the idea of store and fly. Its probably the more practical solution. The romantic in me would like to do the driving thing but from a climbing point of view, which is the essence of the whole trip, starting again from here or near here makes more sense and saves a bit of cash and a bad back!!!
From Siurana I headed north to say hello to Toni and his brother Jose at the Villanova de Prades campsite. I was pleased when they recognised me and called me by name. Toni and I discussed medial epicondylitis. Golfers elbow. Then on round to Montblanc and a wander through the very pretty town with a little shopping detour, before heading on to another climbing area, La Riba.
Once you get passed the industrial buildings that make up the bulk of this small village and its reason for existence and head up the hillside, it opens up to reveal a very pretty gorge and a good crag. I took a walk down to the river and then to the refuge, which was open and doing a roaring trade while locals filled up water bottles from one of the permanently flowing springs in the front garden. I took a glass of vino tinto outside in the sun to soak up the glorious evening warmth and then strolled back to the van, parked all alone about 100 metres down from the refuge, in the towns football pitch car park. My space for the night. Scary !
As the sun set I tried to enjoy the solitude by cranking up some tunes and having a shower, all the things a man does when he's shacked up in a car park all alone right :) During the night there was a constant hum from the factories down the hill. I could also hear the river in the gorge below, and every sound, like the van cooling down and creaking scared me witless! I did sleep, quite well I think, and I wasn't buggered, robbed or murdered by gangs of Spanish thugs looking for innocent solo travellers..... but woke up about 6.45 and didn't get back to sleep.
I got up earlier than usual, nipped up to the refuge in the van and filled up the water tank in 10 litre instalments, it didn't take long, 4 trips if I remember correctly, proof that I've been pretty frugal with the water supply.
Setting course for Margalef it felt good to be driving again, alive, on the main road south. Again, suddenly the scenery changed and I was almost at Reus in no time, back to a city with its busy skyline and the golden arches of MacD's. I turned west, then back north and without any surprise at all, very quickly found myself on the slow, z bends of the Montsant park once again. The road took me up to the top of the Montsant cliffs and the views were stunning. Properly awesome. This is such a beautiful part of Spain. The road went lazily down towards Margalef in sweeping zig-zags. I'm so used to those now, and throwing the van gently around them is getting to be second nature, though I have come close to the Armco barriers with the back end a couple of times.
I stopped a little short of the village and parked at the refuse bins then took the bike up the north valley 'Panta' road to the dam to see if the fat boy would get up there ok. Just breathtakingly beautiful scenery all around. I was almost in tears once or twice. I'm not sure if it was from the shear beauty, or the fact that I couldn't actually enjoy the climbing....! Climbing has taken me to some glorious and wonderful places. None more so than this.
I'd forgotten how gorgeous it is here. Or did I actually ever realise it? When I came with the boys 8 years ago I don't think I appreciated it at all. Maybe doing it alone gives you chance to open your eyes, to see the beauty without rushing from one climb to the next. Or maybe its just that I'm a little older and can see it better now? From memory I don't think we went as far as the dam... God we missed some awesome views. We didn't go to the village I know that for certain!
I cycled back to the van, passed it and carried on down to the village for a look. Pretty quiet, but pleasant.. I took the van carefully along the gorge road to the dam and went for a walk. I thought about staying here for the night but decided to go to the village where I'd seen a few vans parked, and perhaps I'd be able to find a cafe or the refuge, or both and do some washing, and get some wifi. Bingo, hopefully on both but for sure wifi in the cafe. I was offered the e2 wine, and the e1 wine... I had both to compare and contrast, and you do get what you pay for. The e2 was room temperature and very nice, e1 was straight out the fridge and just about borderline ok. I left some of e1 and went back to the van and bed...
I'd like to go home now I think..... Go and get this elbow fixed. Part of me can't see the point of trawling around European climbing venues only able to tickle the 5's and perhaps low 6's when I could go home and rest up, then come back to it in May, fresh and fully serviceable. What I'm trying to figure out is the best way to go. Do I store the van and fly? If so, where? And how much am I prepared to pay for it? Or, do I just make it a tourist trip and drive to Athens, and maybe even Kalymnos, I've always sort of fancied that idea anyway.
I could go as planned, via some of the climbing areas I'd looked at along the way. So far they have provided some great places to park up ( I haven't paid for a camp site once), and I have the added security of being with like minded people in some of them. Across the top of Italy, Slovenia, then head south.
Unfortunately, I'm not very good at making quick decisions at times like these. I like to think things through. Its tough, especially in this situation where I'd like to go to Themi as quickly as possible and get sorted, meanwhile part of me is enjoying the journey itself.
A big part of me wants to climb SO much. Its like a drug. One I can see, touch and taste a little bit, but can't actually enjoy to the full. So inside I'm torn about just what to do, almost hoping that something forces my hand one way or the other. Usually writing it down helps, so here's hoping!
I went for a good hard bike ride this afternoon, up the hill out of Margalef, after cycling up the southern gorge and climbing a little on the Bloc Du Park, a massive boulder by the car park at the head of the gorge. It was a slab so I figured it would be easy on the elbow but I felt almost every move. No great stabbing pains, except for once. I tried to simulate a little steepness and hung gently, slowly putting my weight onto the fingers of my right hand. It felt ok, until I released the hold and then wow did it hurt! A shooting pain right in the elbow and forearm.
Dejected, I cycled hard up the hill for no other reason than it felt like I needed to push and keep pushing, to do something physically hard, to prove that something still worked. Sad git!!! Anyway the elbow still hurts on the bike. I noticed the other day that when I'm up out of the saddle, the arm action does annoy the elbow. No escape!! Nothing though is as sore on my elbow as washing and drying my face. I have no idea why that should be the most painful action, but its a killer, especially in the morning.
I like it here. I'd like to stay another day I think, maybe catch up with the Chulilla gang again before I go, wherever it is I'm going to go! I'm beginning to come round to the idea of store and fly. Its probably the more practical solution. The romantic in me would like to do the driving thing but from a climbing point of view, which is the essence of the whole trip, starting again from here or near here makes more sense and saves a bit of cash and a bad back!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment