As Dave Newbould pulled up outside my house at just after 3 am I knew that finally the trip was on. After a trip around Evesham and the remote nether regions of the Lenches the car was full with Dave, Tony, Graham and myself. We got to Birmingham Airport in good time and parked the car. Ignoring the bus stop closest to us we decided to undertake a complete circumnavigation of car park 1. Despite our combined efforts we finally managed to catch a bus,and within minutes we were firmly in the bosom of fellow Wheelers, in the booking hall.
Now for what ever reason, the travel agents had decided to split the party into 3 groups. This meant that couples travelling together were allocated totally different partners. ( If they decided to do the same thing at the hotel, this would make for a very interesting week away!) Well Dave marshalled the group into some semblence of order and through we went. Eagerly we all scrambled onto the plane and were soon in our seats and tearing down the runway.
From behind me came a voice I would soon be very familiar with. Little Callum, his first flight and a combination of tiredness and excitement turned a 7 year old into an instrument of torcher. "I CUN SEE THE AYR POOORT!" he screamed, in the broadest Brummy accent ever, and just to emphasise the point he started kicking the back of my seat. He continued to scream and kick the back of my seat for the whole of the journey, I thought that death would come as a merciful realease for me but alas it was not to be.
Well just as we approached Majorca and hardly having finished my £2 cup of PG tips, we started to descend through the clouds, not white whispy clouds set against an azure blue sky, but dark clouds, grey and black and menacing, threatening a down pour, sitting over equally forboding mountains.
We got back to earth safely and as we left the terminal, the sun came out. The tour guide tried to confuse us by telling us to get on bus 275, the problem was, which bus 275, as there was 2 of them both going to different places.
The trip through the centre of the island gave us a preview of what was to come, some fantastic countryside and some formidable climbs. Now experienced in the art of moving the group around Dave with the skill of a competitor in "One Man and His Dog" managed to speed us through the booking in process.
Up to the rooms and some quick unpacking was called for as we were now off to collect our bikes from Porto Pollenca.I was as excited as Callum! We stood outside the Pro Bike Hire shop and were handed our bikes, mine was a glorious looking Massi carbon bike with a Campag Centaur group set, others looked equally pleased with theirs. There was some adjustments needed, Helen needed her comfortable saddle fitting, and some had concerns about tyres etc. My computer didn't work and there was seemingly a shortage of pumps and tyre levers on the island as no one appeared to be given both! We cycled back to the hotel, some 7 miles. The hotel receptionist told us that we each had to pay 28 euros for them to store our bikes as they had signed an agreement with a local bike rental company. We of course took this as a challenge, as we had not been informed of any such charge. Henry Kissinger could not have been more tactful and diplomatic in telling them what they could do with their 28 euro charge! Needless to say, we didn't pay it, opting for the far more reasonable refundable 5 euros rental on the lock. Time for a sauna and food before an early night with anticipation of some excellent cycling tomorrow.
Day 1
Day 1 Route (Google Maps)Porto Cristo was the destination, the sun was out and we were ready for the off.
Out past the power station and through the marshes, before hitting some of the gloriously undulating Majorcan roads. Porto Cristo was our coffee stop and just sitting there in the sun with the Med in the background gave everyone a real buzz.
We set back from Porto Cristo as a group , but soon the excitement of the fast roads and sunshine caused the group to split speeds of 40 mph were easily reached and some uphill sections were taken at speeeds in the 20's.
A couple of German cyclists were used as bait when they were allowed to get 1/4 mile ahead and then were chased down, at first we thought they hadn't noticed what we were up to, but after a while they refused to be our playthings and fought back.....they still got caught. Imagine our suprised when a little later they pulled up at the same hotel.
Alan who was a late replacement on the Wheelers tour and a cyclist with Cheltenham CTC had come along with us and had found the pace not to his liking. There were often cries of "Alan's Off The Back". He managed to get a little seperated from the group and had a little difficulty finding the hotel. He clocked up a few extra miles as he had a tour of Alcudia all on his own, just another 8 miles or so.
He was seen a couple of hours after the rest of the group had arrved home pushing his bike back into the hotel. Alan was to feature quite heavily in the rest of the week, for all the right reasons. After the obligitory sauna and swim followed by food it was an early night. 64 miles had been covered that day.
Day 2
Day 2 Route (Google Maps)Graham its raining! It's damn well raining! I shouted as I stared out at a grey and uninviting scene.
We all went down for breakfast and the normally picturesque terrace where we had been having breakfast was now transformed into the poop deck of a north atlantic trawler, rain and spray and a biting wind. It was with a great deal of suprised that the hotel staff insisted on serving us breakfast in these conditions despite there being several dozen unoccupied seats in the restaurant which was warm and dry and inviting. Its a good job we had union representation, and the Maitre D'Hotel was soon scurrying around offering us an alternative and somewhat more temperate location for breakfast.
In the late morning the rain had finally stopped and someone (Tony) had the idea that this would be an ideal time to get those few extra miles in, so off we set into light drizzle and a head wind towards the foothills of the mountains outside Porto Pollenca.
"Alans Off The Back" came the cry as desperate to miss the rain we took to the hills. After a particularly sapping climb everyone regrouped at the bottom on the following descent, expecting Alan to appear any moment. He didn't!
The group waited and waited, finally Simon offered to go back and find him. We waited, finally Simon came speeding towards us, Alan had punctured at the top of the hill, he had no pump. Simon had helped replace the tube but, it had holed again. We turned and faced the climb. As we approached the top of the climb Alan came running down the road, his bike over his shoulder and his wheel in his other hand. It was starting to rain again, it was cold and it was wet. The puncture having been repaired it was decided, "Let's go back". So we did, in the pouring rain.
Back at the hotel it was straight into the jacuzzi to warm up, and then food. We decided to go to a bar on the beach and watch people in overcoats and cagoules straining into drizzle trying to enjoy themselves. We had a discussion about cleats and Helen asked the question, "How do you know what colour your cleats are?" She was tired.
Elvis was on stage at the hotel and that was a sure sign that it was going to be an early night, still we had managed 34 miles.
Day 3
Day 3 Route (Google Maps)This was going to be the "Big Day", Sa Colobra, with its 10 K descent and climb.
We set out at pace towards Pollenca via the "Garden" Road, then it was climb, climb, climb up the 515 metres of the Coll de Femenia. where we regrouped and headed for the next stop at the Viaduct. Well following an error of judgement on my part we stopped short of the Viaduct at a small cafe that had magnificent views.
The descent down Sa Colobra was breath taking, steep and hairpin after hairpin, with the realisation that all this had to be climbed as there was no other way back!
Everyone made it in one piece to the bottom where we were rewarded with the ability to purchase the most expensive pasta in Majorca,(£9 for Spag Boll!), still we had to eat.
The climb was taken in the heat of the day, cars and coaches appearing to hang in the sky kilometres above your head. The scenery was a blur as sheer determination was the only way that this climb would be conquered. Up and up hairpin after hairpin, the occaisional whoosh as a cyclist sped downwards toward the most expensive spaghetti ever.
As the sweat rolled into your eyes and the gears had all been exhausted there it was, the cafe at the top. Helen let out a yell, punched the air, zipped up her top in true stage winners fashion...and as she turned the corner she saw, another 500 metre of climb that kicked up in the cruellest way, this wasn't the top! The tired riders regrouped at the Viaduct Cafe, where almost anything edible was consumed. Once all up the return journey to Alcudia was underway. Carol Hall couldn't stop smiling, she had suprised herself, but not us, as this confirmed what we all knew, that she's a strong riders with bags of determination.
A peloton of French cyclist came along and the chance of a free tow home was taken, I don't think they liked that!
The descent back to sea level was fast and furious, everyone jubilant that they had bagged Sa Colobra, and the 1973 metres of climbing that it entailed.
Back at the hotel it was the now traditional jacuzzi, and food, followed by that great majorcan institution"Paddy's Bar".72 miles had been covered on a challenging ride.
Day 4
Day 4 Route (Google Maps)The day was bright and sunny, we had agreed as a celebration of yesterdays success to meet slightly later at 09.30.
We were heading to Arta. We toook a route out through C'an Picafort on a particularly undulating route. This time cries of "Alan's Off The Front" rang out. We'll be seeing him again soon I thought, and we did, the whirring legs soon lost there drive and turned into reverse.
A Triathlon team past us, all flash with their broom wagon following on up behind, they soon became a dot on the horizon. I had no desire to chase them.
However the 2 Russian female cyclist that came past me as we were 10K out of Arta was a different matter, it would have been rude not to jump on the back of them and savour the ride into town!
After a stop in Arta people did their own thing. We decided to cut through the scenic middle of the island and head back. We got back for the traditional jacuzzi and food. We then decided to find the only bar in Majorca not showing the Champions League final.
Tomorrow it's the lighthouse, today we had another 35 miles under our belts.
Day 5
Day 5 Route (Google Maps)The day dawned misty as a sea fog tried to roll in, but soon that was burnt away and we were off. Destination the lighthouse at Formentor.
We headed for Pollenca, and as soon as we had left the main town the climb started. Up on some fairly poor roads to the coach park, which had people panting.
Then a descent, the roads were wet and the surface poor so caution was the name of the game. Then it was up again, until we reached, the tunnel.Not a long tunnel, but presenting a few problems, firstly it was dark, even darker if like me you forgot to take your sunglasses off! Secondly it was strewn with potholes, and thirdly there was a metre gully each side off the road that was impossible to see once inside the tunnel. "Cycle towards the light!" came the shout, and squinting through my dark shades I could just make out a patch of light at the end of the tunnel. This disappeared as a cyclist in front decided to give me a total eclipse!
Now peddalling totally blind I was just able to make out 2 cyclists to my right. Simon was not so lucky and came a cropper in the tunnel, through a combination of the poor road surface and disorientation.
The lighthouse offered great views and another chance for John James to distibute Evesham Wheelers Audax fliers.
The run back home was taken at speed. An innocent moped rider who had the audacity to try to overtake the Wheelers peloton was hunted down and humiliated, by a grinning Phil Stayte who broke off the front of the group.
Lunch was taken at Porto Pollenca. A few extra miles were added with a detour via the garden route. Following a short stop at a garden centre the group cycled off, Alan decided that he would like to stay on the left hand side of the road.
As a bemused Majorcan driver approached him there were cries of " Alan's on the bonnet!" Then it was back to the hotel another jacuzzi, food and "Paddy's bar".
Day 6
Day 6 Route (Google Maps)A bit of a foggy start to the day, but the sun soon put pay to any mist, The A's were set for 100 miles today, the B's had a more sedate day planned, as legs were now beginning to get tired and crave rest.
The B's headed out through C'an Picafort. The rolling roads through Majorcan countryside out to Sineu were taken where the groups met up for coffee. Simon and Alan planned to ride out to an observatory to the south that offered a climb and some good views, the rest of the group plumped for a steady meander homewards.
The market gardening land around Sa Pobla provided some interesting rides, as the peloton toured fields full of potatoes and lettuce and groves of oranges and lemons.
The bikes had to go back today, and after some negotiation it was agreed that they would be picked up from the hotel. Pedals were removed and that was a sure sign that there was no more cycling for us this holiday.
Well that didn't include Alan who after his epic ride with Simon earlier had decided to "get a few extra miles in". He kept riding all afternoon, intent on reaching the magic 100. Well imagine his disappointment as with just 12 to go he got the call to say, get your bike back, the're being loaded up to go back to the shop.
That night after eating we all sat around on the terrace of the hotel laughing and recanting the many incidents that each of us had experienced.
John James who works tirelessly to drum up support for the Audax could be seen at every opportunity handing out fliers and promoting the event. He had spent the whole week trying to persudae a cyclist in german that he should ride our audax only to find out on the last day that the man was from Lichfield and didn't have a clue what he was talking about!
We had all worked well as a group, each of us had achieved our personal goals, we had faced formidable climbs, crazy descents, been cold and wet, hot and sweaty and pushed to the limit. We had got to know each other better and passed a memorable week together.
Day 7
Much to our suprise and following several phone calls we had managed to establish a pick up time at the hotel, 08.20. Time to have breakfast at least.
A subdued group left the hotel for Palma airport, and anticipated the journey home. By a stroke of bad luck we had managed to pick the desk where the baggage conveyor belt had broken down. For 2 1/2 hours we waited in line hardly moving, our flight departure time getting closer and closer. There was real panic in the eyes of the check in lady.
Then it was time to dump the bags and run, and I mean run. The whole Wheelers group had to sprint the length of Palma airport with the tannoy announcing "Last call for Thompson flight to Birmingham".
Then as the heavens opened we were on the plane. We were not at all sure that our baggage would be on the plane, but we were on our way home. As a means of celebrating our achievements in Majorca the pilot took us 3 times around Birmingham and bounced us off the tarmac a couple of times!
At the baggage carousel at Birmingham no one really expected to see our bags again, but to our suprise there they were.
Before long it was goodbyes and, see you on the Sunday run and we all made our weary way home. It had all ended suprisingly well..
Special mention needs to be made to Dave Newbould who took on the organisation of the whole holiday, and without who's committment the event would not have taken place. Through his hard work we all had the chance to be part of something that will be remembered for a very long time. Thanks Dave.
Ride Routes and Profiles