The ferry that is . We docked a little late and there was an announcement warning of Spanish immigration delays but our mixed cycling quintet rolled off, and to the head of the queue pretty easily . The port was typically busy and noisy but after a couple of roundabouts and a short tunnel I picked up a bike path all the way into Bilbao.

It’s probably worth saying at this point that I’m using an app called “cycle travel” for navigation . It’s free and I really rate it as it defaults to quiet traffic free routes, including off road cycle ways etc . Sometimes this means its suggested routes are longer but they are always more pleasant .

Bilbao. I didn’t know much about it but it has a port area that Lonely Planet would probably call “edgy” -but at that time of the morning it was the usual waking up clatter of rising shutters, pavements being washed before the heat of the day and moped buzzing locals carrying baguettes and pastries .

I didn’t intend to loiter ,aiming to head for the centre, cross the bridge over the River Nervion and then towards the North coast at Lekeitio-about 52 miles to a campsite I’d identified but not booked

Something else probably worth saying is that my aim was to not book places to stay more than 24 hours ahead -not on the grounds of being some kind of free spirited nomad but more because I just didn’t know how my legs would be from day to day !!

However the river crossing wasn’t a bridge as I thought but something far more geekily exciting -a gondola suspended from a huge overhead gantry that glided back and forth carrying Bilbao’s finest ,apparently since 1893. The Bizkai Bridge (see why I was confused) is now a designated UNESCO “heritage monument” so the 90 cent ticket for five minutes of childish excitement seemed like good value really!

It was hot,and getting hotter. Hilly and getting hillier and the bike was heavy and …..well you get the picture .

The cycling was really nice though -excellent roads ,considerate Spanish drivers and superb infrastructure was of course welcome but robbed me of my usual excuses for slow progress ! I was thinking that I’d overpacked the bike and under packed my legs when I rolled into the one horse town of Muniz,and later Fruiz ,for some grub and una cerveza

It was at this point I realised my Garmin was malfunctioning-although I’d been cycling hard all day and had covered at least sixty miles it was telling me I’d covered less than twenty! Hmm ….sadly the malfunction was all mine and I decided to head about ten miles to Guernica and call it a day .

Guernica was buzzing . Typically Spanish with a central square packed with what must have been the entire population, which for a random Tuesday night was pretty impressive .

The town has an evocative history-massively damaged during the first air raid of the Spanish Civil War in 1937 (carried out by General Franco’s fascist chums from Germany and Italy) it was the scene of much resistance -targeted (and then rebuilt) because of the bloody mindedness of the locals it seemed to sum up the Catalan spirit of independence and stubbornness I was beginning to see-more of that later .

I’m always suspicious of travel writing that says ….”at this point,tired and weary, I happened across a small hotel ,cheap and clean with a friendly owner and bike parking” but thats exactly what happened !! Hotel Bolina for the record,£38 for the night, don’t mind if I do.…