Tag Archives: pacha

Now, sit still and think about what you have just done.

Ibiza Ibiza Ibiza – what can I say ?

Do you ever miss the simplicity of childhood?  Never in my adult life has a Jam Sandwich fulfilled my dietary needs or requirements but as a kid, a jam sandwich was the perfect answer.  If I was really hungry, I would have 2.  Lunch or dinner, sometimes even breakfast – a jam sandwich was the way to go.

Later in life, our needs become more complex, the simple jam sarnie just won’t cut it any more

Ibiza – where do we begin?  Just back from a monster session on the island.  I realise that statement has many several meanings dependent on your outlook on life.  It could mean a huge piss up, a monster shagging session, a drug induced clubbing marathon or for the more musically blessed amongst you – maybe you were thinking about a live orchestral mash up.  For me, it was a 1000 mile drive, followed by a 3 ½ hour ferry ride with a 5 day sandwich of mountain biking across two of the Balearics finest islands before returning to the ferry and another 1000 mile road trip back to Brussels.

Nothing less than a red run every day, sometimes slipping onto a black run purely by accident.  Black runs make Rupert moan even more than red runs, and I thought making Rupert moan more was impossible – I achieved it on more than one occasion.  Next time I am going to pretend they are all red runs and head directly for the blacks.

Both bikes and riders have survived the tortuous week in mid 20º’s temperatures, dusty tracks, high speed runs (70kph or 43mph), two Balearic Islands of Formentera and Ibiza (in the same day, end to end and back again), covered just over 300km (188 miles) and climbed a total of 4800m (15,750 feet). The climbing was a particular highlight of mine.  Being both an avid thrill seeker and eternal optimist I have finally realised that climbing a mountain track in order to find the perfect downhill section on the other side, is nothing more than a fable.  The fact that you have to hold your bike above your head to clear the shrubbery while scrambling on loose rocks that even the most hardened hikers would find a challenge has not deterred me.  Reaching the top of the climb to look down into the opposing valley and realise that after that harsh ½ hour uphill climb with my bike – there is no golden path back down, no flowing sweepers where I might crack a new top speed record, no stunning scenery, no jumps, no nothing except the exact same condition that I have just endured on the way up, I now have to endure on the way down, bike held high above my head to make it through the plants all the way back down to the valley floor.  The only compensation is knowing that no-one will have ever been stupid enough to have taken a bike up there before.  It did remind me of a weekend in Genoa when I met a dog walker as I rode to the foot of the climb to the peak.  Even in Italian I understood him when he said you can’t get up there on a bike.  I smiled to myself and thought ‘ Oh yes I can – I am Johnny English’.  He was dead right of course, I carried my bike pretty much from the point where we passed each other, nearly all the way to the summit and then all the way back down the other side.

The tracks generally were very entertaining even though they took some navigating.  In true Spanish tradition, they started with something gold, got to the lunch time siesta and came back in the afternoon with corruption and nepotism to drag them down out of the top spot into a non podium finish.  The Balearics at its best and most natural – corrupt and nepotistic.  Signage and directions went from being too good to being non existent.  I don’t mind the adventure of navigation, I just think that riding a signed route shouldn’t be broken up with the need to look at maps and mobile phones to decide which way to turn at a junction. I wonder if any of the local government officials have completed these routes recently to see how good they are.

There – moan out of the way (that’s going to happen after a week with Poopie).  Apart from a few ‘minor’ navigational issues, the week was as epic as it ever could have been for two first timers there.  There is always room for improvement with experience, so next time, we will know a little bit more about what we are doing – whether we choose to apply that knowledge is a different matter, and in all honesty, highly unlikely.  All in all, I give Ibiza a big thumbs up as a biking destination.

Now lets get to the new videos.  There are 5 new uploads this week for your viewing pleasure.  Generally 1 from each day except day 4.  After covering over 140km on day 3, I had no energy left to keep switching on the Go Pro and capturing what we were doing.  In fact, day 4 was noticeably slower anyway so not worth covering.  The final day, I just lumped loads of long bits together and laid over some Ibiza modern classics – my mac could no longer keep up with my editing requests and was failing fast.

This alone, in the coming weeks will spark another mac v laptop debate as my admiration for all things Apple has been gradually eroding over the last 12 months or so.

So whats next for me?  I will tell you – pizza, cup of tea, afternoon of Xbox live then a run in the forest before sampling the taste of the long awaited 2014 Duvel Tripel Hop.

Sadly next week – I have to return to work

 

Don’t forget to watch the latest 5 videos.  Roll your cursor over the ‘Video’ tag at the top of this page, turn up the volume and enjoy.  Remember, all of these videos were filmed in HD on Ibiza or Formentera in real time.  There are parts where may think that they have been sped up but this is not the case.

A quick chance for you to welcome my 30th subscriber to these hallowed pages, please welcome Armada Boat Hire, from sunny Warwickshire.  I wonder if we can get 10 more subscriptions before our 10th birthday next year?

 

No Animals were harmed or unduly distressed during the making of these videos……………..  Well,  maybe one exception.

 

 


A Trip to Trumpton

Always good to start the week off with something dashing – I quit my job this morning.  Been niggling away at me now for a few months and finally I decided today was the day, after working a months notice, I will have completed a whole year on board.  For some reason, other potential employers like to see a year as a minimum.

Of course, the skipper was dismayed and has this afternoon been trying to tempt me to stay but you know when the little seed is planted and it will only ever grow – that really makes me think the best option is to move on.

Had a busy weekend exploring the delights of Palma.  First stop was the most important for the weekend – Lórien in Palma, an absolute must for any serious beer drinkers.  When I say serious beer drinkers, I don’t mean people that can swill down 10 pints of Budpiss or wife beater – I mean the serious drinker that only drinks two beers on their visit, yet savours the mouthful of flavours that they ingest – best of all, it is twice the strength of that pish you get everywhere else so you only need a couple and you are done for.

Hot on the tail of Lòrien was Magaluf or Shagaluf as some of you might know it.  Just on the outskirts of this huge free sperm exchange is a place called Pirates.  I last went there around 5 years ago and loved it, this time it was almost just as good. I say almost because for my part there was too much girl dancing when the acrobatics could have been more.  Still though, – if you find yourself in Shagaluf and you are not full of strangers sperm, Pirates is a must see.

Not quite last on my score list was a Saturday evening meal in a little place called Na Burguesa, a shack that clings to the hillside overlooking Génova and the whole of Palma from one side of the bay to the other, and out back to the mountains.  A nice little number too – got there in daylight and stayed until after dark.  After dinner, we headed into Palma to Hostel Cuba, a new place for me, somewhere I haven’t been since it opened but ……..I haven’t really missed anything.  Full of people trying to look too good rather than having a good time – reminded me of a trip once to Pacha where the locals were easy to spot, they danced rooted to the spot in fear of spoiling their hair or creasing their clothes.  Of course it wasn’t long before we had seen enough and headed for an old favourite ‘ Café Lisboa’.  Still liking this place although I have to admit it is missing something since the smoking ban came into force – it was a bit like a seedy Jazz club before but with a different playlist, mostly rocky stuff with thick smoke so if you were looking for someone at the other end of the bar, you had to walk down there to see them, no standing on your tip toes and making eye contact.

Saving the best to last was of course ‘The Diner’ for sunday brunch – a superb score to  finish off the weekend.

Still full of cold and feeling the effects of all of the food i have eaten this weekend I need to focus.  We leave Palma on Monday and head for Sardinia where we have two races to compete in – and I use the word ‘compete’ very very loosely indeed.


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