Bicycle Touring by a lazy guy.: May 2014

I treat myself at least once a year to a hotel break in Mallorca. Based in one spot in an all-inclusive hotel and a rental bike. To me it is pure luxury. No hassle at the airport. I swan in straight to the gate towing a small carry on bag. No power mad check-in person to decide whether my bike is packed correctly, no humping it through the airport to another oversized check-in to be checked again. At the other end no waiting to see if my bike will arrive? Or not. Will it be in one piece? Or not!

I just stroll past all the people at the carousel and walk outside to the waiting sunshine and the coach that will take my case off me, to be stowed and then chauffeur me to my hotel. No struggling to unpack my bike, put it together, usually in the rain, looking for the vital tool I have forgotten. Getting rid of the acres of packaging. trying to keep oil off me and the bike. Why won't my panniers fasten, why won't the brakes adjust properly? shh.. It getting dark. where did I put my lights? No. None of that.

I'm deposited with a smile at the previously booked hotel. No searching for accommodation or campsites. One hotel for the entire stay.

Booked in to a nice room and balcony. I may wander downstairs for a 3-course meal with a glass or two of wine before venturing out to wander the town and find a bike shop, where I will negotiate a week’s rental on a full carbon road bike. The bike will be picked up the next day.

The rest of the day. depending on my arrival time. maybe spent in a gentle stroll before heading back to the hotel and sitting over coffee and cake while I study a map and decide on tomorrows route.

It’s soon time to head into the restaurant for the evenings 3 course meal with wine and maybe a couple of hours in the bar with some interesting conversation with other guests or an hour spent with my Kindle, before a good nights sleep.

I’m up early and down for breakfast. Back upstairs to change into my riding gear and clutching full water bottles and a map I head out to the bike shop to pick up my waiting steed. It’s been set up for me with my own saddles and pedals and I head out to day one of my bike holiday.

I knock out maybe fifty miles, maybe sixty. Depends on the hills and how the wind blows. There is of course the compulsory coffee stop at whatever village square I end up in. Do I dawdle chatting to other cyclists or people just curious about where I am from or where am I going? I’m in no hurry. The day is mine.

I head back to the hotel. I’m in nice time for a late lunch. I’ve worked up the appetite and feel good sitting at my table dawdling over a glass of wine watching the world go by.

I’m a bit sweaty and horrible so it’s upstairs to soak in a warm bath and climbing out, wrap myself in a fresh, fluffy white towel. I wash my sweaty gear through and retire to sit in the sun on my balcony for a while, clutching a nice cup of tea.

I’ll probably go for a stroll before my evening meal and then of course I need to work out tomorrows route.

So that’s my daily routine of my Mallorca holiday.

Of course I could go camping. Hmmm… What to do?

Yes, I know adventure and all that. But of course I do the touring thing as well but, there is also a lot going for this type of holiday. Well that’s my excuse. No To hell with it! Who needs an excuse. I love it. Absolutely love it!. How could you not?

A few pics.