Bikepacking along the Eurovelo 8: from Spain to Croatia

There are in-between moments in life. Perhaps after quitting a job, or waiting to start a new one. These moments are precious as they offer an opportunity to reflect on what you have achieved in the past and what you wish to accomplish in the future.

For me, this occurred in early 2022, after I quit my job and began to work remotely for some months. Not having to sit in front of a computer for 8-hours a day enabled me to clear my head a little.

Soon enough, I was looking for an adventure to break my routine and challenge myself, both mentally and physically. The idea of traveling without a set end date seemed really enticing. It was then that I was introduced to bikepacking, through a combination of discussions with friends and online research.

Route Description

As always, the first step was to map out the approximate route for the journey. From the start, I was keen to cycle across the South of Europe. I thought this would make for a somewhat gentle introduction to bikepacking, as it probably wouldn’t involve passing through highly remote areas or places where I couldn’t communicate with locals. I quickly set my focus on the Eurovelo 8 cycling route, otherwise known as the Mediterranean Route, which stretches from Cadiz (Spain) to Cyprus over a whopping 7600km.

My journey started in Sils, a small town located to the North of Barcelona, where I was based at the time. At this point, the destination was still unknown. That’s the advantage of not being bound to a physical workplace: I could go on as far as my legs could carry me. For now, I didn’t want to set the bar too high, so Venice seemed like a reasonable objective. Anything beyond that, I thought, would be a bonus.

Gear & Apps Used

Cycling gear

The importance of getting the right cycling gear can’t be understated. Of course, it depends on the kind of trip and setup you’re going for. They can broken down to the following three: endurance, cycle touring, and bikepacking. Personally, the latter appeared like the best option for me.

I knew I needed a bike on which I could attach bags directly on to the frame. It also had to be durable and versatile enough to sustain different kind of rough terrain. Eventually, I chose a Kona rove al 700, a gravel bike that strikes a balance between quality and price. Despite needing a few minor repairs, the bike is still in good condition today so I feel like this promise has been held.

For the seat pack and frame pack, I went with the Ortlieb brand. You can’t really go wrong with those, though they generally come at a hefty price. These can easily set you back a few hundreds euros.

Besides the day-to-day necessities, camping gear was also necessary as I had planned on camping occasionally. I simply bought a one-person tent, a sleeping mat, and a sleeping bag. I found that this was enough considering I was mostly staying in camping places with good amenities. Other options include hostels, Airbnb, and Warmshowers.

Phone Apps

You’ll also want to download a few apps on your phone for the trip. In the bikepacking community, a must-have app is Warmshowers. It’s kind of like couch surfing but exclusively for people traveling with a bike. Your hosts will provide accommodation (and sometimes food too) for free, in exchange for a few travel stories. I’m really grateful that this app exists as it led to many fascinating encounters!

Another one is Komoot, which has established itself as an essential tool for planning and navigating routes. It allows you to browse cycling routes in your local area, also providing detailed statistics on route conditions, such as elevation gain, types of roads (pavement, gravel, etc.), and the like. The free version is already packed with great features, but I know I’ll soon upgrade to the pro version to get access to real-time navigation.

The highlight of the Trip: the Tende Mountain Pass

The most rewarding and memorable day of this journey was also the hardest. On May 20th, my brother (who joined me for a part of the trip) and I were forced to take a train from Ventimiglia (Italy) through the Roya Valley. This segment of the road had been damaged by a severe flood in the course of 2020.

Wanting to make our way into Italy in a spectacular fashion, we get off one stop early. We want to have a go at the Tende Mountain Pass, perched at an altitude of 1870m. As the main ‘spaghetti’ roads to climb up were being rebuilt, we took an alternative route, known as the Spegi trail. We do so in spite of the local villagers warning us about the difficulty of the climb.

A few minutes after departing, we realized what we were in for. The trail was so steep and full of rocks, that we had to push our bikes for most of the way. But we refuse to give up. Overall, the climb took almost 2 hours and a half, as we mostly walked and endured the 13.5 kilometers and 1500m climb. The view of the alpine landscape, however, was well worth the effort. The complete silence, snowy mountain tops, and natural light up there were surreal. The only indications of man’s presence were the old military forts dating from the late 19th century. After a well-deserved break, we head back down the winding roads, through the border, and into the Piedmont region.

Reflections on the experience

All your senses are on high alert and search for something to cling onto, often distorting the passage of time. Sometimes, it’s the rhythmic noise of the bike pedals, and other times it’s the sheer beauty of the landscape.

There isn’t one main learning from this experience, but rather a heap of small things.

1. The first one is that when you set your mind to something, the body can endure a lot. When I departed I was in a rather good physical condition, but I wasn’t particularly into cycling. So I left thinking that maybe I would get an injury at some point. This didn’t happen. Of course, I suffered from a few cramps in the first four or five days, but from there the ride was quite smooth.
2. Another surprise was that my mind didn’t wander off as much as I thought it would. Instead, it felt like I was fixated on everything that was happening around me. All your senses are on high alert and search for something to cling onto, often distorting the passage of time. Sometimes, it’s the rhythmic noise of the bike pedals, and other times it’s the sheer beauty of the landscape.
3. Lastly, I was amazed by the fact that I was able to cross multiple countries with a bike as my only vehicle. It’s a very simple thought, yet it stuck with me ever since I completed my trip. The whole experience really made me reconsider the way I travel. In the past, I didn’t think twice before hopping on a plane. Now, I know that there are other ways to experience travel and that the journey is just as important as the destination. In particular, I think there’s something about being vulnerable on a bike that forces you to interact with other people and get out of your comfort zone.

I believe these are the three main learnings I will bear in mind during my next tour. I’ll catch you in the next one.