Cycling 2750km from Belgium to Spain (Ep. 22)

All Music by “Under the Skin”: https://open.spotify.com/artist/0AvLxd0MOteC026aTgu8KX
Intro music by NRA lab, Audio File ID: 119647
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Two tired cyclists, two endless climbs, and one very questionable promise of a “cozy Spanish dinner.” The day starts gently — a stretch of asphalt to wake up our legs — before turning into a battle against red zones, rolling stones, and our own stubborn pride. We chase deer, slip on gravel, and breathe like we’re summoning storms. The views are breathtaking, the climbs soul-crushing, and the flies… well, they seem to love us more than anyone ever has.
By evening, all we dream of is a real meal — but every restaurant in town is closed for vacation. Our grand Spanish feast turns out to be a humble kebab, eaten with dusty hands and weary smiles. And somehow, it’s perfect.

Hey everyone, we are Lean and Whim, a couple from Belgium. We have set out on an epic cycling journey from Belgium all the way down to the southern tip of Spain, over 2,750 km in 32 days. Join us in our video diary as we ride through stunning landscapes, tackle challenges, and experience all the surprises along the way. Subscribe and hop on for the ride of a lifetime. [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] The first kilometer out of the village is some paved road. I don’t mind. My legs clearly aren’t awake yet. And a gentle warm up on asphalt feels just right. We have two plateaus to climb today. The first one is supposed to be the tough one. The kind of climb that makes your legs question all your life choices. But I completely forget to film it. So, let’s just imagine a long, steep, dusty road, some heavy breathing, and a lot of willpower. And there we are already on top of the plateau. [Music] End of the we [Music] [Music] [Music] We find ourselves On a wide gravel road, cut gutting straight through open grassland. The landscape stretches endlessly. Soft hills of yellowish sunbaked grass slightly dry and rough under our wheels. There are barely any trees, no shade, no sound except the crunch of our tires and the wind brushing over the fields. For a long while, the road just keeps going straight, dusty, shimmering in the heat. Then finally, the scenery changes. On the far side of the plateau, we notice the fields that were once full of lavender. The blossoms are already harvested, leaving neat pale green rose behind. Even without the purple flowers, the view is still striking, calm, wide, and quietly impressive. [Music] Yeah. [Music] Heat. Heat. Heat. After crossing the plateau, we get to enjoy a lovely downhill stretch. Then comes the second climb. Much gentler on the legs and on a paved road. It’s still hard work, but not the kind that makes you question your existence. [Music] The views along the way are stunning. To our right, a steep drop into a wide valley. Across it, the plateau we just crossed with its rugged cliffs and flat top as if some giant had neatly sliced off the peaks. [Music] [Applause] [Music] On the map, we see a gravel track following a railway for more than 20 km. We are excited. That should be easy riding. And at first, it is. Spirits are high and with every passing train we wave like kids, hoping the driver will honk. It takes a few tries, but when one finally does, we cheer like teenagers. Soon though, the track gets rougher, climbing and tipping with every bridge and tunnel, turning into a real endurance test. We ride along the railway track. The gravel pulls. The hills push back. Our legs are older. Hearts still play. Like kids, we wave the same old way. The path keeps rising, then it falls. A winding test of strength and walls. But still we laugh, our hands held high for trains that rush in thunder by. And oh when one horn cut the air a silver cry that answered there. We felt the years just fall away. [Music] Two grown up children bright as day. [Music] Oh hey [Music] oh [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music] the rust the steel the endless bend remind us journeys never And though time has sharpened skin and bone, that whistle says we’re not alone. And oh, when one horn cut the air oh, a silver cry that answers fall away. [Music] Two grown up children, bright as day. Heat. [Music] [Music] Heat. [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music] You’re going to say a thing. Oh, [Music] [Music] when we finally hit a paved road. We are supposed to cross it and continue along the railway, but neither of us feels like it anymore. A quick look at the map and we find an alternative route on asphalt. We exchange a satisfied knot. Good decision. That’s Magnus doesn’t last long though. So focused where we on finding a smooth surface, we forgot to check the elevation gain. Our easy detour comes with one final brutal climb. Just what my worn out legs didn’t need. Add a few million flies feasting on my hard-earned sweat, and it’s a perfect recipe for mental collapse. Whim promises to lift my spirits with a cozy, authentic Spanish dinner tonight. The thalone keeps me paddling. But when we finally reach the village, the first restaurant is closed for vacation. The second one, even more inviting, is closed, too. In the end, the only place still open is a humble kebab shop. Vim gives me a guilty smile. I can only laugh. That kebab, greasy and glorious, tastes like pure redemption.