Having massively enjoyed escaping the British winter to explore smooth Spanish roads and feel some sun on my back in previous years I was already keen to return in 2026.  When Richard and Maddy joined the Club and offered the opportunity to stay with them at their villa I jumped at the chance for a change of scenery and a new experience.

This wouldn’t come for free of course, but with the additional offer of airport transfer (including bike if desired) it did alleviate any worries of us all finding available rooms in the same hotel.  Plus we wouldn’t have to deal with hire car firm reps with limited English giving us the “hard sell” on additional motor insurance.  All I had to do was sort transport to Alicante airport and persuade my travelling partners of the value of the early flight.

Easier said than done when a 7:15 Easyjet flight from Gatwick coupled with available trains from our arranged Haywards Heath parking spot would necessitate an alarm call at 3am or earlier lest any delay mean a missed flight!

The offer of collection from Alicante airport did impose a further minor complication in order to avoid inconveniencing our hosts into using the camper van.  Fortunately none of our group were that bothered about taking our own bikes and so we were able to fit everything thought necessary for a 6-day holiday within cabin luggage capacities and thus all fit into the hosts’ beloved Citroen C3 at a squeeze for the circa 75-minute motorway drive to their villa.

Of course we’d still need bikes to ride while out there, but Richard and Maddy even removed any complication of sourcing bike hire from us as they would deal directly with a local shop on our behalf.  A few weeks before departure we were asked for frame size, saddle height, pedal type and whether we required Garmin or Wahoo computer mount and they would ensure the bikes were ready for collection on our arrival.

As a great philosopher once said “I love it when a plan comes together!”  Well, a 2:45am alarm call was brutal, and I enjoy driving Sussex lanes in the dark even less than in the daytime, but all’s well that end’s well, and it ended very well.

It could have been worse – Clint set his alarm for 1am in order to have breakfast before driving to mine;  and it wasn’t raining for once!  Clint’s satnav sent him astray, but thankfully he’d left plenty of time to make his way to my house.  We were actually slightly early in collecting Trevor and Graham, and even had 15 minutes to wait for our train once I’d parked the car.

Not having to check-in any hold luggage saved further time, which was handy as security wanted a closer look at some of the contents of our bags.  That said, we’d barely finished breakfast when we were called to our gate for our scheduled flight.  Alicante Airport now scans your fingerprints as well as your passport, but Richard had only just arrived when we found our way out of the terminal for collection.

A most welcome chicken salad lunch plus two very cute border terriers and one Maddy awaited us at the villa.  We then hurriedly changed from civvies to bike gear and jumped back in the C3 to be driven down to the bike shop to meet our steeds for the week.

Berria Belador

Zero language barrier here as the proprietor is a Brit, so for the production of bankcards to cover hire and returnable deposit, we could set our eyes, hands and backsides on a quartet of Di2-equipped carbon-fibre Berria Beladors.  There was no point in any of us bringing our own computer mounts as they wouldn’t have fitted to the aero-bars, but I did attach a rear light for a quick test spin to check that nothing rattled and to fine-tune saddle height as necessary.

Into the “camis”

Now was where the early start really paid off as we had time for more than just a spin along the front or back up to our lodgings, but a decent ride.  I’ve ridden, and loved, the Montgo climb out of Denia a few times, but never before taken the left turn on the ridge that leads to a viewpoint near a lighthouse with a spectacular panorama overlooking the town of Xabia.

Denia Marina

To which we shortly descended for a quick tour and pitstop before hitting the “camis”.  These are local lanes that criss-cross and serve the agricultural land here, mainly fruit orchards, but are much quieter and better-surfaced than their Sussex equivalents.  They and Richard led us around “Montgo rock” in a flattish route back to Denia Harbour for a cold beer in hot sunshine as we pondered how we could afford some of the nearby yachts available for sale and why we’d want to when we could spend that money on bikes, holidays or villas.  All that remained was a gentle spin back up through the maze of the “estate” that was to become so familiar to us that week and a discussion of where to eat that night.