Day 44 - Isle of Wight meets the wild west!

Llico to Lloca (30km) Saturday 8th October

You may think we chose to have an easy day today - you'd be wrong, very wrong! You may think we were only on the road for an hour or two - 30km right? - you'd be wrong, very wrong! Ok so by this point you might be asking how high we climbed. If I told you 500m you might think it was only a 1.5% gradient - eminently doable right? Again wrong I'm afraid!

I shall explain: After waking up to a beautiful view of the sea, we braved the hotel mafia and their strange breakfast etiquette (we also had to brave their 80s/90s chill out CD that resembled the 10pm "Mellow magic" of the 90's - 'nothing compares' to wet wet wet's 'wishing well' that provides 'endless love' (OK so I tried!). We cycled out the town passed the political drumming band rallies and again had a route decision: 1 - at least 20km longer, closer to lake, more chance of tarmac, definitely some hills; 2 - shorter, by the coast, possible sea views, steep climb up onto plateau, definitely not tarmacked. After checking out the road we opted for 2 - It seemed well compacted so we could make good progress which made taking the shorter route a no brainer.

We plugged on up the steep (12%) initial gradient, excited and happy to be here, especially as the surface seemed friendly. We knew we had about 20km of this before we descended onto the flat tarmacked coastal road, so thought we'd make the most of the adventure.

We also thought the road would get worse once we got further along, but had no idea just how much! It wasn't enough that it threw in several climbs and descents greater than 25%, but someone also had the bright idea to literally throw on sack after sack of loose beach pebbles, lovely huge curved ones, to mend the road -probably ok in a car, but impossible on a bike. So it soon became a case of:  cycle up until you think you're going to get thrown off as your legs can't power fast enough to manage the rubble; push the bike up the steeper stuff; grit your teeth, hold on tightly enough to make your hands numb, and cross your fingers on the fast and bumpy way down; then repeat.

Now I don't know if you've ever tried pushing a loaded touring bike up a hill, but it's hard work! I imagine it's not dissimilar to pushing an elephant uphill on skates! So you then rest at the top and prepare for the downhill payback that only yields a frightening squirming and squiggling on a bike not firmly planted beneath you.

During one of our mid way stops, a truck passed us and a friendly face leaned out the window - "would you like an orange?" - oooh "yes please" says I, then they handed us a whole bag of delicious and juicy mini clementines. Wow! That was super cute and such a lovely gesture. Then half an hour later when perched by a gate eating empanadas, we cheered on a runner and offered him an orange - he must surely be finding this as tough as us. He then turned around, ran back up the hill (as we've already established this is no mean feat!) and asked if we would like lunch at his house!? We said thanks but we should push on. He said "no I'm serious I can cook for you, its down there by the lake". Ahhh. The words down there, and lake, were enough to make us say a definite no and explain that if we went down, then unfortunately that would mean we have to then come back up! But two incredibly kind and generous offers in the space of an hour.
So we pushed on, having only covered about 10km in two hours and eventually found the descent to town. Initially a very doable track of hard mud - easy to navigate and quick progress. But then the gradient got steeper and the surface turned to sand. Ant and Jamling with slightly stronger nerves managed to stay riding mist of the descent, whilst Alan and I did some sort of half horse half monkey trot down most of it.

Covered in sand and in need of an ice cream we tumbled off the mountain and reached the shop next to the tarmack at the bottom of the descent.

Well that's 17km of our day done! Lets see how far we can push on!

Smooth tarmac under our paws and the soothing Pacific on our right we headed on through the coastal towns, concluding that this was rather like the seaside towns of Sandown and Shanklin, with a cowboy feel - Isle of Wight meets the wild west!

The sight of a campsite with free use of kayaks almost had Ant tempted (knackered Ant? Never too much to Kayak!! Muppet!), but when we saw the pitches were less grass, more brambles, and came complete with their own chickens and horses, we decided to push on to the next town in search of something a little greener with warmer showers.

We cycled up and down the sea from esplanade that is Lloca and were relieved that we had our pick of hotels, hostals and restaurants. But Ant, with his sixth sense wanted something more. A Cabaña. We'd seen these advertised for weeks now - they are a huge part of the holiday scene. But without a cell phone for Chile yet, it's kinda hard to call the numbers on the signs. Queue man on side of street with cardboard sign advertising cabañas. Well let's give it a go! Turned out to be a lovely little holiday wood cabin, with a living room, tv and kitchen, all much more reasonably priced than the hotels -brilliant! They even had a hose pipe to dust off the boys.

So after a huge bike and kit cleaning session we found some fried fish and chips (when in Rome!) enjoyed the Sunset, and snuggled into our new home.

And breathe out!