Summer Roadtrip 2023 Part 1

Since deciding to spend the summer months in the Alps, there was just the small matter of getting there from our home in the Algarve. Knowing that we had to put some miles under our belts, we elected to make our first stop Merida, the old Roman capital of Hispania, in the middle of spain. This beautiful ancient city is a treasure-trove of incredibly well—preserved Roman buildings and rightly deserves its nickname of mini-Rome.

Departing on our roadtrip in the midst of a publicised heatwave currently gripping Europe could prove challenging……especially for the newest addition to the Skye team. Meet our travelling four-legged adventurer, Sandie, a very adaptable, patient, loving little friend; adopted from a rescue centre in Loulé, she is rewarding us with love and laughs as she adapts to her new world. However, how were we to solve the problem of transporting her around in this ferocious heat? That was soon solved by ALPS man (see later), my ever-practical handyman and co-adventurer, who devised an ingenious “carriage” for the rear of his bike allowing Princess Sandie to travel around in stately luxury and not scald her paws on the roasting pavements. My contribution was to “pimp it up” with an addition of a Union Jack canopy……the whole contraption is proving to be a real hit for both her and everyone who sees her. In fact, she is becoming somewhat of a celebrity as she glides around Europe and is featuring in many holiday snaps!

Always happiest near water, we escaped to the cool of the nearby mountain range for a calm night beside a river before heading on to Salamanca. Another Spanish city steeped in history, it is known for its prestigious University (one of the oldest in Europe) and boasts a square, the Plaza Mayor, that is considered to be one of Spain’s most magnificent. With its impressive architecture and vibrant atmosphere, I only learnt later that it was built to host epic bullfights – what a spectacle that must have been, although I’m relieved that this is no longer practiced. Known as Spain’s “golden city” thanks to its honey-coloured sandstone, we really enjoyed our short time here.

The reason why our Salamanca stopover was cut short is we had discovered, to our incredible good fortune, that our next destination of Pamplona was in the midst of the world-famous “Running of the Bulls” festival. We couldn’t believe our luck and wanted to savour as much of this once-in-a-lifetime, “bucket list” experience as we possibly could. First stop upon arrival was to buy red neck scarves and sashes, so that we could blend in with the mass of humanity all wearing white and red.

Apparently, around 1 million tourists visit the Fiesta over the course of the week, expanding the city by over 5 times; walking through the crowded streets and seeing the overflowing bars, it felt like it. It’s hard to encapsulate the atmosphere on (e-!)paper as, at every turn, there were more crazy and unusual sights; an oom-pa-pa band marching, an entire square of dancers, gorillas and other fancy dress oddities, huge areas of street food with enormous bbq firepits and the biggest drinking fest ever seen, with throngs in the streets and revellers falling out of bars…..or just falling!! In fact, it is the sounds and the smells that are hard to sum up – suffice to say, there was a loud hum from the crowds, only drowned out by the odd tuba or drum. As for the bars, they were sticky underfoot with a distinct aroma of badly cleared-up vomit – sorry, just saying it as it was 😱 🤢 This video attempts to encapsulate it …….

We stayed to watch the amazing fireworks, so after a short night’s sleep our 6am alarm call felt far too early – but there was no way we were going to miss the spectacle of the 8am bull run. And what was extraordinary was just how busy the streets of Pamplona were at daybreak (or was it that some revellers had never gone to bed?!) …….with everyone already jostling for the best position in which to watch the spectacle. A balcony would have been preferable, but €500 for the privilege of watching the runners and chasing bulls – likely to be all over in 20 seconds – seemed just a “tad” expensive!

The Pamplona San Fermin Festival takes place every July and for 9 days the town is descended upon by raucous revellers, drawn by the music and merrymaking. However, most of them are here to witness – or take part in – the Running of the Bulls. Each morning, the bulls are set loose to run through the winding, cobbled streets with fearless Mozos, dressed all in white save for red at their necks and waists, running with them. As the bulls thunder down the streets, the mozos start their run at their chosen spot and enjoy their 20 seconds of mad glory as they attempt to prove their bravery (or stupidity?!) as they dare to run in their path. Every year there are a few people who get trampled or even gored, but far more festival-goers get injured from the over-consumption of alcohol!

So we enjoyed observing the build-up, seeing the local band rallying the town and watching the medics get into position with their huge first aid kits and stretchers before heading to the Bullring. This was my first experience of being in a Bullring and I’m so glad to have witnessed the spectacle of it being full to capacity without having to see a bull being harmed in any way. That’s not to say that it isn’t cruel, as there is still a fair amount of taunting and baiting that goes on, but at least there is no physical cruelty. The atmosphere was electric – we were able to watch the bulls running through the town on the big screens, just before they entered the arena.

Once the bulls had run through they were then let out, one at a time, to go and inflict their worst on the participants. These people were keen to demonstrate their bravery by running up to the bull and touching it or even vaulting it, with the crowd egging them on and applauding any particularly brave moves. However, what really got the crowd going was when the bull managed to toss someone in the air or get its horns into someone – no wonder the medics were on standby!

After breakfast (yes, it was still that early!), we headed back to Skye to get our bikes and pick up Sandie. It was at this point that we realised that we create quite an eccentric and original sight, as we could hardly move for people wanting to take photos or stroke Sandie. Obviously, the Princess feels even more like royalty now with her serf, ALPS man, being the Royal carriage wallah……watch out, Sandie may even get her own social media following!

Having felt like we had seen enough of the Fiesta, we headed towards the Pyrenees for a cool, calm (early!) night in the mountains with an inevitable hike up to a viewpoint the following day. It was just above an old railway station that had been turned into a hotel, so we paid it a visit afterwards – quite incredible feat of engineering that a railway was built here so long ago and wonderful that it has been transformed into such a sumptuous 5 star hotel.

The general road through the Pyrenees is by way of a long tunnel, but we decided to take the mountain pass over the top and were rewarded by spectacular views. Luckily, this wasn’t a hair pin, “sweaty palm” type, so we could enjoy the vistas……although I suspect that there’ll be plenty of those in the next few weeks in the Alps 😬 Our next stop was Lourdes, as we needed to be near the airport the following morning. Why on earth would we need to be near an airport on a two month trip to the Alps??! Well, that is a very good question! The reason is that I am still working and needed to fly back to London so that I could operate the flight out to Delhi; it may sound a bit crazy, but having commuted for over 3 years now, it is just another, albeit slightly unusual, commute. And now is a good opportunity to explain how ALPS man got his name; whilst I am off working, he is in charge of Skye (and obviously Sandie!) and getting from one airport to the next……my very own Adventure and Logistics Partner-in-Skye!!! What a superstar (does that make him ALPSSS??!).

Our camping spot near Lourdes was just beside the lake (it is inevitable, water calls us!) and, after a long cool swim in the lake, wondering if all our aches and pains had been healed by the water, seeing as it’s so close to the holy water of Lourdes. With the barbie lit and ribs marinating, we were just settling down with a bottle of champagne for a quiet, private celebration of my daughter’s Uni results (A First in a Masters of Aerospace Engineering, if you will allow me a proud mummy moment 😊). However, before we could even take our first sip, we were interrupted by another campervan …….muscling in on “our” view. Whilst we were trying to negotiate with him, another one arrived, along with a car – before long, the entire field was full of cars. Puzzled, we asked a local – turns out, it was Bastille Day and we had unintentionally bagged the best view for a drone display due to take place at 11pm. What another stroke of good luck!

Heading to the airport the next day, we left enough time to see …. Quite an unusual start to a day that is going to end up in Delhi, that’s for sure. Good luck with the big drive, ALPS man and Sandie – see you in Geneva!