Bobby Gilbert Adventures

The food we got from the market and the farmers’ shop was amazing. Lots of unusual looking things. There was a stall on the market with maybe 20 types of bread all of which looked delicious. I spent €30 on bread in one go. Sally got big into the various fish and shellfish from the farmers’ shop. We took it in turns cooking meals, ever more competitive. Leftover day was fantastic.

I managed another quick, before work, ride out to the Formentor peninsular. This time not going to the end but instead, at the top of the first big hill, turning off to climb further to a lookout tower.

Our final bike ride was to the Llevant peninsular. We rode the first bit (the stick of the lollipop on the map), hid our bikes, then trekked down to the sea. The warmest day we’d had all week and we hadn’t brought our swimmers. Fortunately it was deserted. We trekked back up, recover bikes, and into Artà for a drink with Sally’s friend Eddy.

On our last day we had time to visit the Alcudia peninsular where we found a desert island. It had very sharp rocks, was very small, and probably wouldn’t have supported us for long. Fortunately we had brought sandwiches.

Sally dropped me off in Soller so I could do a big ride on the 21st, up the Soller pass, out to Orient, up the Lluc climb then descending into Pollensa, full of memories of doing these climbs with Jose in 2014. For example, when we climbed to Lluc in 2014 there were about 12 of us in our training camp team. The Lluc climb was notable in that I was the first to go off the back, and by the top the only person left with the pro-racer leader was Jose who he paced so she dropped the whole field. Gilbert’s bracketing the field, as I later described it. The leader was so impressed with her tenacity on hills that he put her in touch with a couple of elite amateur and then semi-pro teams which kicked off her racing career.

She kept coming into my head while on my bike, all week. I usually found I was then going faster. Still trying to keep up with her! I remember she even started to descend reasonably well, following the line of the racing cyclists (and her dad!) through the corners.

Another morning we drove to Deia then caught a bus around the coast to Valldemossa. The walk over the mountain coming back was cold and windy, but great views nontheless.

The Andratx route was our biggest joint ride and constantly hilly. Sally tackled the climbs well and only complained when if I didn’t stop on the descents (I missed good views apparently). You start with some lovely climbs through woods but then come back along the beautiful coastal road which it seems they were resurfacing just for us. The first 5 miles were ripped up and bumpy, then after traffic lights we were on brand new tarmac getting high from the fumes as it had been laid only minutes before.

Comedy moment was when I rolled to a stop outside a cafe/bar in Andratx and couldn’t get my foot out of the pedal. I fell onto the pavement still attached and still barely able to get out. “Are you ok?” asked a cyclist on one of the outside tables. “Yes I’m fine”. “Don’t worry, nobody noticed” he said with a grin. I looked up to see tables of cyclist all laughing. “At least my girlfriend hasn’t arrived to see”, I said only to see Sally roll up in tears of laughter.

Sally went horse riding a couple of times while I was working from “home”. The one I saw looked a bit stiff, though you couldn’t say it was wooden. Apparently the others were more lively.

January 17th: The town had been building up to the festival all week with big mounds of sand on the roads on which big fires would be lit.

The highlight of the festival is cutting down a 20m pine tree and transporting it by hand through the very narrow streets to a hole in the pavement outside the church. Once in position the local youth fight to be the first to climb to the top of this by hugging it and squirming their way up. Huge amounts of energy needed and at worst you fall 20 metres though nobody seemed to think that was an issue.

We were having a beer in a bar in town and could see all of this live on national TV. The barman told us it was just around the corner so we ended up fighting our way though the crowds to the tree. The atmosphere was like a Shrovetide football match. Watch the video!

Ask any cyclist who has been to Majorca if they have done the Calobra? They may not have done it but they will know what you are talking about. An epic climb.

January 15: We parked the car at the junction from the main road. From there it’s a 2 mile climb to the coll and then 6 miles of descending down the Calobra. The Calobra is a dead end road. Once you get to the bottom you’ll have to get a ferry out or you climb back up the way you came. We descended all of the hair pins that we’d soon be climbing again, passing a slow tourist in a car at one point, and eventually we were down at the little port at the bottom.

From here we walked and cycled around the coast a few hundred yards until we were at the bottom of the Pareis Gorge and had a look around.

In summer this is the end of a good canyoning route which I quite like to do, however the water would be extremely cold now and hypothermia would be a very real risk. Didn’t really fancy that.

We did a little bit of bouldering, checked out some of the deep water soloing (for another day?) then back along the coast through the little tunnels to Sa Calobra Port.

None of the cafés were open, it being winter, so after a bit of a pause we start up the climb.

We went at our own pace and after a while I pulled over to take my helmet off as I was getting quite hot. It’s a long climb right to the top with the hairpin bends getting more spectacular as you got higher.

I had done this route years ago on a cycling training camp. We had a race, about 30 of us. I remember the bunch splitting apart quite quickly and eventually I was in a group of six that eventually split apart too as we went up the hairpins. I was sixth to the top.

My daughter Josephine had also done this climb, not on the same trip as me, but on a later one. I noticed her tone was 38 minutes. My time today was 61 minutes. I wonder what it was all those years ago? I suspect Jose would have given me a run for my money.

When you’re almost at the top there is an unusual bridge where the road goes under the bridge then loops around and goes over it and from there it’s about half a mile to the summit.

I waited on that bridge and I could see Sally making her way up the hairpins down below. Making very steady progress and before long she was with me at the bridge and from there we cycled to the top together. Very impressive effort cycling up her first major pass. I was impressed.

A quick descent to the car then back to our home for some good cooking.

We had 10 days in a small villa just outside of Pollensa. The weather was mostly cool and windy with occasional rain. Got a bit of sun towards the end though. Between us we went cycling, horse riding (Sally), walking, and cooking with lots of shopping for delicious food off the market and at the farmers’ shop. We also got caught up with the insane San Antoni festival. See later blog!

Sunday 12th January: Our first ride took us to the bay at Cala Sant Vincent. It was a ghost town with everything shut until the season started. The seas, which Sally referred to as “a bit choppy” were breaking over the road.

Monday 13th January: Puig de Maria is a hill that was just behind where we stayed. A brisk walk up before breakfast lead to disused buildings (a monastery?) and great views. It’s distinctive volcano shape was a good landmark to know we were nearly home when out cycling.

Tuesday 14th January: Sally dropped me off at Campanet while she went horse riding. I love the climb up to Lluc. Steady gradient but ever changing terrain of valley, gorges, steep hillside, and mountain ridges. Then pretty much all downhill to Pollensa in time for my team meeting and the start of my day working from “home”.

Meanwhile Sally came back from the horse riding to say they had bailed due to heavy rain (I had no rain in the mountains!) which had then stopped as she drove home. Feeling pretty grumpy she decided to ride out to Puerta Pollensa and then maybe a bit of the peninsular Formentor. While I got on with work, I kept track of her on live location. Saw her get to the bay on the south, leeward, side which was the obvious place to turn back from having done a big climb over to get there. Instead I saw her continue over the rest of the climbs all the way to the lighthouse at the end. The northern, windward, side apparently had waves crashing up huge cliffs. I was quite jealous. I did find an opportunity to do the same route myself a few days later.