North to Finestre peninsula. Vuelta Stage Four.

Today we started in Lalin and rode back along the same road that we had took from our hotel and therefore we passed our hotel some 13 Km away from where we started. It was early again when we started as there was a long transfer to do at the end.

Along the road I saw a sign to a village called Cira. This is the only other Cira I have seen apart from our Cira, though this one is a long long way From Vegas!
We were on a main highway that was going down a steep long ill so,it was fast. The sat navs said that I should turn left but it was a tiny lane. I just missed it but had pulled in so I could see which way The Cyclist thought we should go. The cyclist was zooming past down hill. Honked horn a number of times and he turned and saw. Then he checked his Garmin and started cycling back to the turn. What a good job I had stopped.
These were real country lanes with lots of large houses. looking at them it is hard to imagine that they have the worst unemployment rates and could send Europe and the Euro into oblivion. At the first hotel the lady grew up in Germany and spoke very good English. She was saying about how the councils and the government were all corrupt. Like Italy but not the mafia – Government. She said that Spain was a great country with many many resources and great roads but they don’t get to,exploit it as the officials line their own pockets. She also said Spain has a population of 40million with 6million unemployed. That is a lot.
Along one of the lanes there was one of those  Little stilt constructions but this one was really small with a with dog statue under it. I had told The Cyclist yesterday that I thought it was some sort of religious catholic punishment. I had seen similar structures in films where they are licked in solitary confinement. But now I wasn’t sure. The statue of the dog had given me another thought.  May be these stilt structures are for dead people. i mean they are long and thin which would be coffin shaped. Flip I hope that was the most silly thought I have had. I Asked the Cyclist and he nodded. Oh god. I’ve been taking camera shots of stilted graves. Really! “what about the chickens?” I asked. He said that he had suspected they were something for the dead and he said about chickens as a joke. I am really grossed out. I have quite a few photos on the ipad, which after I have loaded to show you, I will be deleting.
Really. They put their dead in these concrete things in their garden. I can’t get it out of my head. And then a thought struck me. What happens if some years after they put a coffin in there they decide to move house? I spent the rest of the day trying to get the thoughts out of my head. This was not helped by the fact that when we were on the coast By Finetestre there were loads of these structures all close together. I am going to have nightmares now. I do get. Isn’t area if I am bothered by things. Mostly it is something I have seen on TV but sometimes its work related. The Cyclist wakes me when I do because I am screaming or crying both in the nightmare and really out loud so it wakes him up.
As we drove there were different Vuelta signs. I Really want a souvenirs rom this trip and one of these would do the job and The Cyclist could hang it framed in his office. The Cyclist said I wasn’t tall enough to remove one and was right. Still, I kept eyeing them up, but never took one. Not long after we went wrong on the route as both Garmin’s were trying to go up a non existent road. The cyclist said it was Karma got even thinking about taking a a Vuelta sign down.
I got stuck on a road with cows that were bring moved to a different field. The farmers wife held the rear and kept swinging and hitting the last with with her stick. They looked skinny i thought for cows and also looked like they needed milking let alone new pasture. In front of me there is a Spanish MR2 doing its best to dodge cow pats in road. In fact they look more like hay pats as no liquid in them. So what the hell do they feed our cows to make them make that sloppy mess I wonder?  The Cyclist is long one as he was able to navigate through them which is quite risky I think. Another farmer in his tractor with his wife hanging off it, came past. This is a hamlet of a place and both ladies are farmers but they don’t even acknowledge each other, just keeping that sour typical face all Spanish seem to have. Especially the women. You can see it when you watch the Moto GP or with Alinso in tne Grand Prix. miserable looking. Now to try and catch The Cyclidt up and not get lost down these lanes.
Today the Garmins both decided to play up and couldn’t find a plotted way point so we went back and forth and in the end The Cyclist said to follow Co-Pilot. As we did the Garmins were still throwing a fit but at the junction with a main road rather then the little country lanes we had been on, The Cyclist went zooming to the right while both my Sat Nav’s said left. I had to follow him as the last thing we needed was to lose each other as it was hotting up. More for his sake than mine. Just down the hill he had stopped again so I pulled in. He was berating his Garmin and I said that we should have gone left. You can imagine what sort of mood that put him in. Not only had he got to double back but he had to cycle up the hill again. As the windows were down I could hear him shouting and swearing all the way up the hill and I hadn’t even pulled away yet!
He was determined to keep going and not stop for sandwiches today so as to avoid as much of the scorching afternoon heat as possible. I knew that he was already red on his arms and legs so more hot sun was going to make it worse. He said his skin felt on fire on the mountain finish yesterday so I was glad I got to him with the sunscreen early today. He wouldn’t let me apply more later on though so it is a good job that I smothered two thick layers on at 11am so that there was a white layer. His nose is like a fire beacon at the moment. Next thing will be the spots as his sensitive skin reacts to it.
We eventually got to the coast again today further north than we had been before. This is so very pretty and un spoilt. If you ever fancy going to Spain I absolutely recommend coming to the green coast. The beaches are long, empty and without the endless hotels that the med resorts have. Bring a Spanish dictionary though as there are no French, Germans (lovely) or English so knowing a little Espagnol would be useful. I don’t however so communicating is interesting.
In one little coastal town The Cyclist had stopped so I pulled over. He was querying the way and was asking what the official profile said as he was convinced there was a climb and we needed to go up this tiny tiny lane along the estuary. A Spanish nosey bloke started saying something and when he heard we were English he had a go at speaking. Apparently there was a climb but it was very steep 30% (no joke!) and very difficult. So off we went. When we had to turn to start the climb I saw how steep it was and wondered if the little Meriva would make it! MM_Scimitar had to,d me to put the auto bad into manual and keep it in first on the steep climbs. There was no need on this one as it was o steep that was all it could do.
At the top I got The Cyclist to go back to the corner and do it again so I could get a photo with the coast in the background. I know, it’s cruel but he wants good photos as much as I do.
The last bit of the ride was along the peninsula of Finestere. Apparently this is a very religious place with bleeding rocks etc. people come on pilgrimages, which explains the many many back packers we saw walking along the way today. This is also the most westerly point of Spain and The Cyclist thinks it is the most westerly point of the whole of Europe as it sticks out (his exact words), further than Portugal.
After we finish and do the obligatory photos we get back in the car and head to the hostel where we were last night. It is a 2.5 hour drive. The start tomorrow is another 1.5hour drive and The Cyclist said that he couldn’t face 4hour transfer after cycling 140miles in the wind and heat.
The guy had let me use the freezer in one of the flats as our room doesn’t have one. So I had used the fridge too. When we got in I got to work as the cyclist was so pooped he stripped to his boxers and just flopped on the bed. I had given him sandwiches and fruit on the journey back but he would need to eat again soon. I had a long list of things that needed doing, but I started with dinner. I had access to the kitchen and I had checked that the hob worked, so as long as I left it clean who would know? I made two big saucepan fills of pasta with tomato sauces and Fresh Parmesan. The first I took to the cyclist, who was now sat up and was working on the lap top. This was some work for one of his clients and he needed to get it done tonight. I left him to do the next batch of pasta to put in the fridge for tomorrow and boil the eggs Inhad got the other day. While this was cooking I washed up all the bottles, flasks and shake bottle etc that had been used today and sterilised them.
Once that was done I cleaned the kitchen, re filled the bottles putting them in the fridge or freezer. I headed back to the room to do his leg rub, wash his kit, pack up and load the car with everything I could, before having a shower and a cheese sandwich and crisps. During this time I had enjoyed 3/4 of a bottle of local wine so I was ready for bed when I finally stopped at 10.30 pm. I set the alarm for 5am and got Into bed to watch an Ashes to Ashes episode with the Cyclist. I fell asleep and he started work again for his client.

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