Fin

I'm sorry for being so shit at this blogging, but in my defence, I have been busy.

Ok, so what's happened since Lisbon? I'll write you through it quickly and I'll write some more about the highlights.

We left Lisbon and went down the coast via Setubal (where we didn't see any river dolphins), Santiago do Cacem, Odemira, Aljezur and then reached Lagos on the south coast. We went along the Algarve in hope of seeing some amazing streches of beach, but saw mostly northern europeans and shopping centres since the road following the coast is further inland so we spent our days savoring the moments when we catched a glimpse of the sea. We passed through Portimao, Lagoa, Albufeira, Faro, Tavira and in Vila Real de Santo Antonio, we crossed the river mouth over to Spain. On a beach near Isla Christina, we unrolled our ground sheets and parked our bikes for two days and two nights, slept under the stars and woke up with the sun.

Finally, on the third day we set off again to Huelva where we caught a train and started our journey through the south, south-east and east of Spain. We went through and had short stops in cities like Sevilla (where we got lost trying to find camp grounds ), Cordoba, Jaen, Alcazar de San Juan (where we were going to sleep on the platform but were instead shown into a, usually locked, waiting room by the nice station staff (he even woke us up)) and finally stopped in Valencia. We stayed in Valencia for five days. All the other tourists were there for the Tomatina festival. We missed it by an hour. Intense, barely legal brits, aussies and kiwis at the camp site at night and refuge in the hot city at day. Valencia is beautiful, with the dried up river bed turned into an enormous park, the restaurants, the architecture and is a definite to return to.

Almost a week of not cycling any great distances except the 15km between camp site and city, so needless to say we were eager to set off. Castellon de la Plana, Vinaros (where we camped by a male nude beach, with an awful lot of spectators literally staring down at the rocks with all that washed up flesh), Tarragona (lunch stop, needs revisiting: beautiful), Calafell, Sitges and then cycling a little too much on the 8 lane motorway to get in to Barcelona. Terribly difficult to find alternative routes into the city. 'Neways, we're alive and we've arrived in Barcelona. We stayed for six nights with Rudie and Sarah, two friends who got tired of London, moved there and are, after almost two years, understandably, still happy. We were well looked after by our generous hosts and we took in lots of good food, beer and art and did lots of walking.

From Barcelona we went north towards France. Girona, Figueres, the majestic Pyrenees (which we crossed with road N-11 which doesn't really offer any climbs or views, so we took a little detour for two days and saw some picturesque villages, high mountains and deep valleys), Thuir, Perpignan, back to the coast by Canet-en-Rousillon and followed it up to Narbonne. We had now started asking at vineyards we passed if they had any work for the grape picking, but with no luck since the harvest had already started and was done mainly by machine.

Some internet research had taught us that we wanted to go further north in order to catch up with the harvests, so we took a train via Avignon to Vienne, one stop south of Lyon. Disappointed not to find any vineyards in the area, we took off to Lyon and literally passed through it trying our luck further north. Note that Lyon was amazing - although a little hard to get in to by bike - and deserves a proper visit. Asking around at the vineyards revealed that the combination of a bad grape year and the economy offered less work, so we decided to start making our way towards Paris.

However, passing through the village Beaujeu, we popped in to a winery that was too close to not try. At first 'pas de travail', but as we were walking up the drive way, the woman in the office opened the door and asked us to come back. They'd gotten on the phone to a patron to find out whether he needed more 'vendangeurs', and yes, eight days decent paid work, accomodation and food included. We worked at two different farms, of which the second was connected to the winery so we could pop down after work to see what the result of our hard work was. 15 days of killing back aches and millions of cuts - shallow and deep. We met some really nice people and some really horrible people. Some had only half as many teeth as we and some wet their beds at night - yes, they were bunk beds and he was on top - poor Ludovic. We were given wine at nine in the morning with brunch in the fields and with every meal for the rest of the day. First week it was sunny, second week it was raining. All in all we can say it's a good way of getting over a fear of spiders, it's lots of fun and easy money but it's painful to the point of tears.

With pockets full of cash we jumped on a train to Paris to visit Alain and Jean-Christophe, who put us up for three delightful nights in this city of romance. It wasn't as much romantic as it was crowded, we calculated early on. Our hosts took us out in their car one evening to see Paris after dark and it changed our initial idea about it. After that we'd just avoid the touristy bits we'd already seen on the first day when we took a river boat with guide and all, this way it was easier to find good sights and nice shops.

After Paris we took another train to Calais, where we got on a ferry to Dover, to finish the rest by bike. Slept a night in a cow field, cycled to Rye, where we popped into Hannah's mum, Sarah's, cafe and ended up sleeping on her floor - thank you so much! The following day Sal's knee was tender after starting cycling again after such a long break, so we relaxed and did the remaining 100km to London in two days, with a night in Tonbridge, at The World Famous, in Tom's caravan.

That wasn't supposed to be that long. I was gonna do it in like one paragraph. Oh well.

And now we're back, since Saturday the 9th October, the date our travels were over. Until December, when we go to France to do a ski season, but that's another story and I'm sure we'll tell you even less about it.

Fun facts: our body weights are the same as when we set off. We have both done what bears do in the woods, in the woods. We're still a couple. We cycled 4550km/2844 miles. Fixed four flat tyres (one tyre four times actually, Sal's back). Our most common breakfast was porridge. Every three days Carl boiled his socks. Our highest speed was a modest 58.7km/h. Carl hasn't shaved since the beginning of June. We have had water thrown on us (from pedestrians and moving cars), been shouted at (pedestrians and cars), been spat in the face (England) and had fingers given to us (England).

I, Carl, am back working in the pub. Sally is decorating christmas trees and selling wild beef at Borough Market.

Good to be back with baked beans, pint measures, gloomy skies, people shouting 'wanker' and most of all our friends. A month and a half and I think we can't wait to go again.

Thanks to everyone we stayed with. Thanks to everyone we met.

Thanks to you for reading,

Much love

Carl and Sally