Ok, I slept well but it was another night of very weird dreams and shivering as the temperature dropped to 9c. A normal night I suppose with an early 6:30am rise, tent covered in morning due and a layer of mist covering the ground like pretty much every scene in pretty much every cinematic version of Hounds of the Baskervilles.
Coffee on the boil, making my way through a breakfast of Pain-au-Everything and fruit as the sun rose and dried out my tent. A great start to the day but still lacking any expectations other than a long, straight cycle path once I reached Mios a couple of km down the road. I set off on foot after a heavy session of stretching and yoga with a much lighter pack and a caffeine buzz. Another beautiful day, a good path ahead but still… no real expectations. In fact, I found the first couple of km pretty, well, I suppose the word to describe it is “boring”. Happy to press on but lacking enthusiasm to say the least. Odd!
The first path was one very long straight that disappeared into a mirage of heatwave. The Tarmac was perfect, my board rolling along the flat surface in silence. The next path, exactly the same and then, “quell surprise” a long straight path with perfect Tarmac. My average speed somewhere around the 20kmph zone but the perfect conditions were a little wasted in me. Just not feeling the vibe. Another very long straight with a mirror ending and I’m starting the appreciate the day even less with the monotony. Too much of a good thing that I wasn’t appreciating properly in the first place. I needed a change and that’s exactly what I received as the Tarmac ended and became 15km of rough surfaces and gravel. The speed dropped to 8kmph, my right foot shaken with numbness to the ankle but I pressed on and on the board. I sighed, complained a bit, tutted a lot as the mirage never delivered the glass surface it promised. This was dragging me down but that’s exactly what I needed to break the unappreciative mentality that I started the day with.
Up ahead I saw another mirage, but this one got closer and closer. Refusing to believe it was potential for a change in surface and pressed on towards it with a jugganaught brown (thank you Guy) and then BOOM! My wheels stopped rattling, my board stopped shaking, my foot rested as I coasted a good 20m with a single push. The rough became the smooth once again and kicked my mentality back into the shape it should have started with earlier that blissful morning. The more I coasted effortlessly, the bigger the smile. Carving the pathway between the non existent cyclists and saying “Bonjour” to every no one.
The never ending straights were now in my eyes as the direct route to Ibiza, I picked up my pace and made some decent headway before stopping for a mismatched lunch – a pate and coleslaw baguette. Belly full I decided to risk a cheeky stop at a nearby campsite to make use of the shower facility on the sly, just another small thread of success that delivered a freshness of attitude as well as an essential freshness of skin.
I picked up the pace after stretching my hamstring one more time, making the most of the smooth surface and long, long straights that were queued up in single file. No one around, not a sound other than the silence of my board being drowned out by the mating calls of a thousand tree roaches.
There really is nothing more to add to the 50km I’d skated to this point, it was all the same, perfectly monotonous until I found a decent picnic area in the shade with a public toilet nearby. I stocked up the water pouch with tap water that came with a free chlorine flavouring and checked my notifications. I love seeing all the “likes” and comments of support but today delivered something different, an unexpected share that was impossible to offer the same lack of appreciation that I’d started the day with – it seems the leading authority of longboarding back in the UK are also following my adventure! My jaw dropped, I checked again to make sure, I gazed into the distance in awe, I looked back at my board feeling a new sense of energy and hit the pathway for one final push of the day. Thanks to Thrill Magazine, I wasn’t finished just yet!
I giggled and as I pressed on, the viewcount of my latest vlog post racked up as I tapped into the UK community with thanks to the share. I just wanted to give it one more hour but my leg was starting to kick up a fuss at the extra mileage so I reached a patch of shade and checked the time to see if I could do anymore then the 25mins extra. But it wasn’t 25 mins, it had been an hour and 10. I lifted my head in shock, turned it to the right and realised I was at another picnic area just as quiet as the one before but with a much superior water supply, fate? I don’t know! But this was my spot for the night either way. I prepared another miss matched meal of 30 min noodles, mozzarella and mackerel and kept on eating even after that.
Oh… I had nearly forgotten to check my mileage for the day! Seems the extra will power had brought a very special gift – a new daily record of 69km without even knowing it! Wow!
I perched myself up against a tree with a busting belly and a huge amount of pride and got stuck into writing the backed up blog posts. And I was doing well! That was, until, a small group of the locals rocked up with a different mission in mind, to get well and truly shit faced!
Now, as I’ve said, my mission for this trip is to reset some switches, change my negative mentality, see things in a better light, make the most of every opportunity and that means say the word “yes” a hell of a lot more. So when they approached me with an offer to join them, the writing ground to a halt and I accepted the tin of local special brew they passed my way, then the spliff they passed around, then another beer and definitely the opportunity to sleep on their sofa across the road, but before a comfortable nights kip came “la menth” and another joint, but before a comfortable nights kip, the evenings big event: vomiting hard! And if that wasn’t “grande” enough, the chlorine tap water decided to bully my lower intestine at the same time. A symphony of explosion playing almost harmoniously, the double exit technique. I spun, I shaked, I puked a lot more before settling back into spinning and crapping. Granted, it’s been a very long time since I’ve been in this state but it seems the skills I learnt as a teenager have stuck with me and I handled the whole affair pretty darn well, back on my feet within the hour. PHEW!
Say “yes” more – a great charity organisation and a brilliant concept for a Jim Carey film! But last night I found out it doesn’t mean “say yes to everything” because, right now, sitting up against a tree, fanning myself and expecting to the see contents of my stomachs again very shortly, I just added a big, fat “NO THANK YOU” on my to do list.
I can only say a huge thank you to the hospitality offered by Jeremy, Mandy, little Jules et all as last night was most certainly a memorable event on the long push to Ibiza but… I think I’ll leave it at just the one and thank you very much it.
But now I want to curl up and die, eeugh