Cycle Tour I Circumnavigation of the Iberian Peninsula From the Mediterra nean to the Atlantic and Back
Behind me, the Alps closed the horizon; ahead, the coast stretched toward France, where the French Pre-Alps emerged faintly in the distance promises of secondary roads and silent valleys yet to be crossed. The bicycle was fully loaded, the air still cool, the border just a few kilometers away. The journey began there, at the exact point where the mountains bend toward the sea.
A solo and completely self-supported journey along the natural edges of the Iberian Peninsula, from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic and back again. A full circumnavigation by bicycle through Italy, France, Spain, and Portugal, following coastlines, historic routes, and quiet back roads, letting the landscape, the light, and the rhythm of the body dictate the direction.
From the Mediterranean to France
Departing from Ventimiglia immediately revealed the essence of the route. Steep mountains and the deep blue of the Mediterranean coexisted within the same gaze, announcing a constant oscillation between land and water, effort and contemplation. The first days unfolded along coastal panoramas and luminous cities, following sections of the EuroVelo 8 – Mediterranean Cycle Route, between the French Riviera and the Côte d’Azur, all the way to the lagoons of the Étang de Salses-Leucate.
Toward the Ocean
Leaving the coast behind, the landscape began to change. Coastal plains gave way to the French Pre-Alps and, eventually, to the long line of the Atlantic. Crossing the Bidasoa River, I entered Spain at Irún, joining the Camino del Norte. The Basque Country, Cantabria, and Asturias followed one another in a continuous dialogue with the ocean: cliffs, green pastures, and wind-swept fishing villages.
Paths and Borders
In Galicia, the route turned inland toward Santiago de Compostela, a crossroads of roads and spirituality. Beyond the Miño River, I followed the Camino Português into Portugal, alternating between coast and interior landscapes until reaching the luminous scenery of the Algarve, shaped by wind and light.
The South and the Turning Point
From the border town of Vila Real de Santo António, I crossed the Guadiana River into Andalusia. Seville appeared like an island of water and stone, before I continued south to Punta de Tarifa, Europe’s southern threshold, where the Atlantic and the Mediterranean meet and, on clear days, Africa rises on the horizon.
The Return Along the Mediterranean
From Tarifa, the journey turned eastward: Costa del Sol, Costa Blanca, Costa Brava. Re-entering France at La Jonquera, I avoided retracing my outward route by crossing Arles and an unexpectedly green inland Provence, through vineyards, countryside, and cork oak forests in the Forêt communale de Fréjus.
The climb to the Col du Testanier (311 m) was the last true threshold. From the top, the Mediterranean suddenly reappeared on the horizon. The descent carried me gently back toward the sea: from Cannes to Nice, the coastline unfolded through bright bays and rocky headlands. Tackling the Grande Corniche, the views became monumental—the sea sparkling far below, Monaco suspended between sky and water. Passing through La Trinité, I reached La Turbie, perched above the Principality, where fatigue gave way to pure wonder. The final descent led through Roquebrune and Menton, among citrus groves and Mediterranean light, until the return to Ventimiglia, framed between sea and mountains.
Closing the Circle
The circumnavigation of the Iberian Peninsula was complete—from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic and back again—across Italy, France, Spain, and Portugal. It was not only a geographical journey, but a passage through landscapes, cultures, and inner boundaries: a map of emotions engraved forever in the geography of the heart.
L'AVVENTURA INCOMINCIA
Pedalando tra montagne, mari e orizzonti illuminati dal sole, un viaggio indimenticabile attraverso la Penisola Iberica.
Ecco le tappe di viaggio e 📷 Clicca sulla foto per ingrandire e vivere l’avventura
🇮🇹 Stage 1: From Milano Centrale Station, in the heart of Milan, to the train journey toward Ventimiglia,
📌 Discover this stage of the journey: route details and GoPro footage on the blog
IThe journey began far from the road, with a farewell. A goodbye filled with emotion to my mother, to my brother Clod an indefatigable adventure companion and to Elen, whose light spirit always manages to bring brightness. Anticipation vibrated in the air, a silent thrill felt deep in my chest. Shortly after, my sister Fulvia and her partner Mauro arrived, ready to help load the bike and gear. Within minutes we were weaving through Milan’s traffic, heading toward Milano Centrale.
The train covered the 224 kilometers to Liguria in less than five hours, slowly leaving the city behind and delivering me into the light of the Mediterranean. In Ventimiglia, I secured the panniers to the rack and took a deep breath: the unmistakable feeling of the open road was finally real. I rode only a few kilometers to Camping Roma, a small, quiet oasis overlooking the border between Italy and France. Its peaceful courtyard, sheltered from the noise of the city, became my base for the first night—a gentle, measured entry into the adventure.
After pitching the tent, I walked up to Ventimiglia Alta, the medieval village that overlooks the modern town and the sea. Cobblestone streets wove into a labyrinth of history, among arches, stairways, and sudden viewpoints opening toward the marine horizon. Each step seemed to slow time, as if the journey had already begun to change its rhythm.
I returned to the campsite at sunset, as the sky turned shades of pink and gold. I felt a simple, profound gratitude: for a warm meal, for a safe tent, for my family’s affection, and for the promise of the road ahead. The following day would take me beyond the border, toward the French Riviera, with the pedals ready to turn toward new landscapes and new stories.
🇮🇹➡️🇫🇷 Stage 2: From the Italian Riviera through the Côte d’Azur to Southern France
📌 Discover this stage of the journey: route details and GoPro footage on the blog
The moment I crossed the border between Italy and France at Ventimiglia, the Côte d’Azur revealed itself in all its legendary splendor. This stretch of Mediterranean coastline, framed by the jagged peaks of the Alpes-Maritimes, is a mosaic of turquoise waters, pale cliffs, and luminous towns, where the landscape feels shaped as much by time as by nature.
My first stop was Menton, the “Pearl of France”a elegant and sunlit, the naturl gateway to the French Riviera. From here I joined the Basse Corniche (Corniche Inférieure), a panoramic road suspended between sea and hillside, guiding me toward Nice. Every pedal stroke opened a new perspective: sweeping curves above shimmering waters, green slopes, vineyards, and valleys gently descending toward the Mediterranean.
The days flowed like a symphony of light and color. Golden beaches, coastal villages, and iconic cities followed one another seamlessly. Monte Carlo shone with its timeless elegance, while Nice welcomed me along the Promenade des Anglais, lively and always facing the ever-present sea.
Continuing westward, I passed through Saint-Laurent-du-Var, Cagnes-sur-Mer, and Villeneuve-Loubet, eventually reaching Antibes a city of ancient charm, with ts sea-facing ramparts, harbor, and the fragrant Marché Provençal, where the colors and flavors of Provence accompany every step. From there, between Juan-les-Pins and Golfe-Juan, the coastline finally led me to Cannes.
Along the Croisette, among elegant buildings, historic hotels, and seaside boutiques, the city reveals its cinematic soul. In front of the Palais des Festivals et des Congrès, the handprints of actors and directors stand as a reminder of how this stretch of coast has become, over time, one of the symbolic places of the Mediterranean imagination.
🇮🇹➡️🇫🇷 Stage 2a – From Cannes to Toulon
Just beyond Cannes, the coast led me toward Mandelieu-La Napoule, where the elegant silhouette of Château de la Napoule is reflected in the waters of the Mediterranean. Crossed by the Siagne River as it flows gently toward the sea, the castle with its towers and waterfront gardens adds an almost fairy-tale quality to the landscape, turning the ride into a harmonious encounter between nature and history.
From here began one of the most spectacular sections of the entire route: the Corniche de l’Estérel (Corniche d’Or). Crimson-colored cliffs plunge into the deep blue of the Mediterranean, and the road climbs through sweeping panoramic curves suspended above the sea. Riding this stretch inevitably brings to mind California’s Highway 1 and the landscapes of Big Sur, a reminder that the bicycle is a true passport to the world’s most iconic coastlines.
Continuing westward, I passed through the seaside towns of Fréjus and Sainte-Maxime, eventually reaching Port Grimaud, often called the “Venice of the French Riviera.” Here, canals weave through the town like watery veins, among low bridges, slow-moving boats, and pastel-colored houses, creating a quiet, suspended atmosphere.
From Port Grimaud I could have continued directly toward Saint-Tropez, but to avoid traffic and summer crowds I chose a detour inland. I crossed gentle hills dotted with vineyards and open fields, tackling the Col de Gratteloup (192 m) before rejoining the coast near the Salins d’Hyères. From there, the road carried me on to Toulon, where I rode through the lively port area and admired the Porte d’Italie, an ancient gateway to the city and a symbol of its long military and maritime history.
🇮🇹➡️🇫🇷 Tappa 2b – Da Tolone a Marsiglia, fino a Martigues
Lasciata Tolone, proseguii lungo la ciclabile che costeggia le spiagge di Six-Fours-les-Plages, accompagnato dalla brezza marina e da ampie vedute sul Mediterraneo. Il ritmo era fluido, quasi rilassato, con il mare sempre a pochi metri dalla ruota anteriore.
Poco dopo, la strada iniziò a salire tra i colli dell’entroterra. Il paesaggio cambiò gradualmente: vigneti, campi coltivati e piccoli centri rurali segnavano il passaggio verso una Provenza più discreta e silenziosa. Attraversai Bandol, Le Castellete Aubagne, seguendo strade secondarie che conducevano lentamente verso la grande città.
L’ingresso a Marsiglia, la città più antica di Francia, fu netto e vibrante. Nel cuore del Vieux-Port, lo sguardo venne catturato dall’Ombrière, la grande tettoia a specchio progettata da Norman Foster, che riflette cielo, persone e barche in un gioco di luci sorprendente, trasformando il porto in uno spazio sospeso tra realtà e riflesso.
Lasciata Marsiglia, la strada mi condusse verso Martigues, spesso chiamata la “Venezia della Provenza”. Attraversando i canali e i ponti che collegano i quartieri storici, osservai le case colorate e le barche ormeggiate lungo l’acqua: un piccolo gioiello lagunare, sospeso tra mare e terra, che chiudeva la tappa con un’atmosfera quieta e raccolta.
🇮🇹➡️🇫🇷 Stage 2c – From Martigues to Sète, through the Camargue
From Martigues, I boarded a small ferry to cross the Grand Rhône, the main western branch of the Rhône River. Here the river opens into a vast delta that marks the entrance to the Camargue, one of the wildest and most unspoiled regions of Provence, shaped by marshes, salt flats, endless beaches, and extraordinary wildlife from pink flamingos to white horses roaming freely.
A gravel cycle path guided me through these wide, silent landscapes, not far from Arles. Riding past Les Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, along the Digue à la Mer and near the Gacholle lighthouse, the sense of isolation was absolute: only wind, water, and sky set the rhythm of the day.
Farther on, I took the cable ferry of the Bac du Sauvage to cross the Petit Rhône. Back on the Mediterranean shore, the route became linear and luminous once again. I cycled between La Grande-Motte and Sète, a town set between the Thau Lagoon and the sea, renowned for its oysters, canals, and port atmosphere where maritime tradition blends seamlessly with everyday life.
🇫🇷 Stage 2d – From Sète to Le Barcarès
The journey continued toward Marseillan-Plage, where I joined the EuroVelo 8 – Route Méditerranée, cycling just a few meters from the sea. I rode along the coastal area bordering the Réserve Naturelle du Bagnas, where pink flamingos moved calmly among lagoons and reed beds, giving the landscape a quiet, almost unreal atmosphere.
I followed cycle paths tracing the coastline and the canals connected to the Canal du Midi, reaching the Sérignan area, where a cycle bridge passes beneath the course of the Orb River just before it flows into the Mediterranean.
The route then turned inland through the rural countryside of Fleury, among vineyard fields and quiet farm roads immersed in silence, before leading me back once again toward the blue of the sea and the golden sands of Narbonne-Plage.
From there I reached the Pont des Salins, a stretch suspended between sea, lagoons, and canals, at the gateway to the Site Naturel Protégé de Sainte-Lucie an unspoiled environment of salt flats, ponds, and large bodies of water linked by narrow channels, a vast, bright, open landscape.
Leaving these lagoon landscapes behind, the coastal road guided me to Leucate, where the Mediterranean meets open lagoon spaces and the wind becomes an integral part of the journey. Beyond Leucate, famous for its kitesurfing competitions, continuing south I reached Le Barcarès, where the sea merges with the vast Salses-Leucate lagoon, at the foot of the Pyrénées-Orientales.
It was here that I symbolically left the Mediterranean behind to begin the long climb inland, crossing gentle hills and increasingly continental landscapes, with the Atlantic Ocean now set as a distant new goal.
With every turn of the pedals, I had been carried through a constantly changing world of sea, sun, and wind, transforming the simple act of cycling into an intimate dance with the light and open spaces of southern France’s Mediterranean coast.
🇫🇷 Stage 3: The French Pre-Alps – From the Mediterranean Coast to the Atlantic
📌 Click if you want to explore this stage: the route details, stories, and GoPro footage
Crossing the French Pre-Alps from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic was more than a cycling route: it was a complete adventure. Over 600 kilometers across six departments Pyrénées-Orientales, Ariège, Aude, Haute-Garonne, Hautes-Pyrénées, and Pyrénées-Atlantiques this journey unfolded as a mosaic of cultures, landscapes, and winding roads tracing the foothills of the Pyrenees, the natural border between France and Spain.
I followed a network of roads, including several sections of the Véloroute V81 – Piémont Pyrénéen. These were not the towering giants of the Tour de France, but gentler climbs, rolling hills, and a constant alternation of forests, valleys, and the first glimpses of the Pyrenees. It wasn’t easy: my legs were always at work between ascents and false flats, yet every effort was rewarded by ever-changing scenery.
The journey began in Le Barcarès, on the Mediterranean coast, following the cycle path along the Agly River to Rivesaltes. As I moved inland, vineyards gave way to the hills of the Fenouillèdes, leading to the village of Saint-Paul-de-Fenouillet—a gateway to deep canyons, medieval fortresses, and a landscape that remains raw and untamed.
The road then followed the course of the Aude River to Belvianes-et-Cavirac, nestled among the mountains. Stone houses, the sound of rushing water, and sheer rock walls announced one of the most spectacular segments of the stage: the gorges before Quillan.
Riding through the Gorges de la Pierre-Lys meant cycling inside a natural cleft carved by time itself tight bends, rock-cut tunnels, and walls that seemed to close in above the handlebars, while the Aude roared alongside.
Beyond the gorges, Quillan appeared, lively and surrounded by forests. From here began the steady climb to the Col du Portel (601 m), a gentle mountain pass immersed in greenery. Not demanding, yet transformative: cooler air, deep silence, and open views across the slopes of the Aude.
From the pass, the route pushed on toward Ariège, where the landscape grew increasingly rural. Here Foix stood out, dominated by the magnificent Château de Foix perched on its rocky outcrop an unexpected and powerful medieval vision, marking one of the most evocative moments of the stage.
🇫🇷 Stage 3a – Foix → Saint-Girons
Leaving Foix behind, a gentle climb began toward the Col de Bouich (599 m), set among quiet forests and silent countryside. A modest but symbolic pass, marking entry into the most authentic heart of Ariège.
From the summit, the descent opened onto bright meadows, isolated farmhouses, and wide slopes that naturally guided the way toward Saint-Girons, nestled at the meeting point of three valleys the Salat, Lez, and Baup. The town appeared as a calm, welcoming oasis: stone bridges, quiet lanes, a slow-flowing river, and an atmosphere of everyday simplicity. After so many kilometers of passes, gorges, and castles, Saint-Girons offered a restorative pause, a place to breathe deeply before continuing toward the western stages of the Piémont Pyrénéen.
From Saint-Girons, the route unfolded along France’s Parcours Cyclable / Voie Verte des Gaves cycle paths, interwoven with small towns and low-traffic secondary roads. Riding here meant immersing oneself in a peaceful setting of green valleys, small villages, and gently flowing rivers. Each section carried a calm, steady rhythm perfect for savoring the authentic atmosphere of the central Pyrenees and letting the region’s landscapes set the pace of the journey.
🇫🇷 Tappa 3b – Stage 3b – Lourdes → Hendaye
Passing through Escoubes, I reached Lourdes, a town imbued with a profound spiritual aura, its cobbled streets alive with pilgrims from all over the world. I felt a quiet respect for the history and devotion that permeate the city.
The route continued along the Gave de Pau, a river flowing through the valleys and hills of the western Pyrenees. Quiet secondary roads and cycle paths allowed me to pedal fully immersed in the beauty of the landscape: gentle climbs and scenic descents alternated with flat stretches, where forests, stone houses, ancient chapels, and grazing animals created a perfect natural setting.
Arriving in Pau, with its elegant boulevards and outdoor cafés, the city’s cycling and cultural history was palpable, proudly nicknamed the “Capital of the Tour de France.” Before continuing toward the Basque coast, I stopped to admire Le Tour des Géants, an open-air museum featuring nearly eight-meter-high totem installations, each dedicated to a Tour de France winner, complete with name, photo, and race statistics. It was an inspiring experience, celebrating the strength, passion, and history of great cyclists against the spectacular backdrop of the Pyrenees.
The journey then headed west, passing through Orthuz and Guiche, small towns set in the countryside of the western Pyrenees, and following the Adour River as it flows toward the Atlantic. Arriving in Bayonne, a medieval town with its colorful half-timbered houses, I felt the satisfaction of having crossed the mountains from sea to sea but the adventure continued along the Basque coast.
Riding along roads lined with dunes, maritime pines, and picturesque villages, each town was a new discovery: the wide beaches of Anglet, surfers riding the waves at Biarritz, the colorful market and fishing boats of Saint-Jean-de-Luz, with the scent of the sea and breathtaking views opening on the horizon.
Finally, in Hendaye, the bridge over the Bidasoa River led me into Spain, to Irun a gateway city on the Bay of Biscay and the start of the Camino del Norte. It was he perfect place to close one chapter of the journey and open another, with the road ahead ready to offer new landscapes, cultures, and adventures..
🇪🇸 Stage 4: Along the North Coast of Spain to the Portuguese Border
📌 Click if you want to explore this stage: the route details, stories, and GoPro footage
Also known as the Camino del Norte or Coastal Route, this stage carried me from east to west along Spain’s northern coastline, all the way to Santiago de Compostela, before turning south and crossing by ferry from A Guarda to Caminha in Portugal.
Crossing the bridge over the Bidasoa River, I left France behind and entered Irún, the gateway to Spain and the starting point of my Camino del Norte. The Bay of Biscay coast welcomed me with the ocean nearby, undulating roads, and the lush greenery of “Green Spain,” where the air carried the scent of forests and saltwater.
The Basque Country offered cliffs, pounding waves, and cities like San Sebastián and Zarautz. Here I left the pedestrian path, which was too technical for cycling, instead following coastal roads through surfers, vineyards, and endless vistas savoring every curve and scenic stop along the way.
Further west, I crossed Cantabria, with its long beaches and iconic towns like Santander; then Santillana del Mar and Comillas, where cycle paths made it easier to travel compared to the muddy trails used by walkers. Often, I found myself riding along the same routes as pilgrims on foot, exchanging smiles and brief greetings as they moved more slowly than my pace, united by the same passion for travel and the surrounding landscape.
🇪🇸 Stage 4a – Irún → Santiago de Compostela
Entering Asturias, I crossed the Puente de la Maza, where signs for the Camino Lebaniego Route marked the start of a roughly 70 km path leading from the sea to the mountains of the Picos de Europa. Shortly after, I reached Ribadesella, a town split in two by the estuary of the Sella River and surrounded by mountains, beaches, and cliffs. Riding along the waterfront and watching the mountains on the horizon, I felt the magic of this stretch of the Asturian coast a perfect balance of nature, history, and spectacular views.
Continuing westward, I arrived in Gijón, with its mix of industrial history and maritime life. Soon after, Avilés welcomed me with its charming old town and port, while Soto de Luiña and Cudillero offered glimpses of coastline and picturesque villages. Here, safer cycling alternatives allowed me to ride away from the muddy pedestrian trails, while still immersing myself in the same atmosphere of pilgrims and travelers.
Upon reaching Ribadeo, the gateway to Galicia, the route changed once again. Following the Eo River, I crossed the iconic bridge that separates Asturias and Galicia. After Ribadeo, past the Masma River, I left the coast behind for good and entered the Galician interior, as the pedestrian Camino del Norte becomes impassable by bike.
Thus began the long climb toward Mondoñedo, through silent valleys, forests, and stone villages immersed in greenery. From there, I passed Abadín, Vilalba, and Baamonde each kilometer more rural and remote than the last until I reached Santiago de Compostela, where the cathedral towers rise like an ancient finish line. For many, this would have marked the end of the journey. For me, it was only a new beginning.
🇪🇸 Stage 4b – Santiago de Compostela → Caminha
From Santiago de Compostela, I continued south along the Portuguese Coastal Way, traveled in reverse: Padrón, Pontecesures, crossing the Lérez River, then Pontevedra, Redondela, Vigo, and Baiona, where news of Christopher Columbus’ return once arrived.
Finally, I reached the far south of Galicia, A Guarda, where land meets the ocean. A small ferry carried me through calm currents, under a sky tinged yellow and orange from nearby forest fires, guided by a smiling boatman at the helm, all the way to Caminha, Portugal. As the Spanish coast receded behind me and the green hills of the Minho drew near, I felt that a new chapter of my journey had just begun.
🇪🇸🇵🇹 Stage 5: The Coastal Way of the Camino Portugués and the Algarve Coast
📌 Click if you want to explore this stage: the route details, stories, and GoPro footage
This stage unfolded in two phases: first along the Camino Portugués, from north to south, and then along the Algarve coast, from west to east. What captivated me was the sense of freedom: not a single path, but a network of options allowing me to chart my own course. Each day was a new adventure, with sea breezes, quiet lanes, and gentle countryside.
Starting from Caminha, I followed the northern coast of Portugal, passing through Vila Praia de Âncora, Viana do Castelo, and Esposende, until reaching Porto, a UNESCO World Heritage city. Crossing the Dom Luís I Bridge was unforgettable: an iron arch suspended above the Douro River, with hills covered in azulejo-clad houses and wine cellars. After passing Vila Nova de Gaia, I continued along the coastline, enjoying its beautiful beaches.
The coastal ecovias made cycling relaxing: boardwalks between dunes and ocean, silent pine forests, and long flat stretches along the Aveiro Lagoon, with its canals and wetlands. After passing Espinho and its lively seafront, I followed a quiet cycle path parallel to the road, immersed in pinewoods and the scent of resin, arriving at Praia de Mira nestled between the Atlantic Ocean and the Barrinha, a peaceful coastal freshwater lagoon connected to the Ria de Aveiro system through a network of channels.
🇪🇸🇵🇹 Tappa 5a – Praia de Mira → São Pedro de Moel
Dopo aver lasciato alle spalle Praia de Mira, seguii una ciclabile tranquilla parallela alla strada, immersa tra pinete e profumi di resina. In breve mi immettei sulla Estrada Atlântica, pianeggiante ma con qualche dolce saliscendi, completamente libera dal traffico automobilistico e circondata da paesaggi secchi e selvaggi.
Successivamente ripresi la strada principale, che presentava margini ciclabili, fino ad attraversare il ponte di Figueira da Foz sul fiume Mondego, un momento panoramico che segnava il passaggio verso la costa centrale.
Continuai poi lungo una ciclabile parallela alla strada principale, indicata dal cartello EuroVelo 1, leggermente in salita, con dune e vegetazione secca ai margini. Passai vicino all’Osso da Baleia e poco dopo raggiunsi la Lagoa da Ervedeira, una splendida laguna d’acqua dolce nel comune di Leiria.
Proseguendo lungo la ciclabile, attraversai panorami aridi e suggestivi fino a raggiungere Vieira de Leiria e infine São Pedro de Moel, dove il Farol Penedo da Saudade domina le scogliere offrendo una vista spettacolare sull’oceano.
🇪🇸🇵🇹 Stage 5b – Nazaré → Torres Vedras
Continuing along the coast, I climbed to the panoramic district of Sítio, towering above the fishing village of Nazaré. From this promontory, the view over Praia do Norte was breathtaking: legendary waves that, in the right season, exceed 20–30 meters and attract surfers from around the world. That day they were calm, yet the charm of the place remained undiminished. The descent led me to the village below, with its long beach and brightly colored boats resting on the sand, while Peniche could be glimpsed in the distance.
Heading south, I reached São Martinho do Porto, a tranquil fishing village nestled along a bay perfectly sheltered from the ocean a serene place where the sea seems to turn into a lake.
Heading inland, I passed the aqueduct of Óbidos and admired the Castelo de Óbidos from the road, the magnificent medieval fortress perched on the hill overlooking the town, its crenellated walls rising above the white rooftops.
I then rode through Outeiro da Cabeça and continued along quiet rural roads until reaching Torres Vedras, known for its wine-producing hills and its picturesque historic center, dominated by the Castelo de Torres Vedras, proudly perched above the town.
🇪🇸🇵🇹 Tappa 5c – Torres Vedras → Tróia
Da Torres Vedras proseguii verso la strada principale, seguendo la direzione per Lisbona tramite Google GPS, e l’avventura ebbe inizio verso Olival Basto (parte di Odivelas), situata sulle colline vicino alla capitale. Le salite erano talmente ripide che le poche auto che vedevo sembravano poter ribaltarsi mentre cercavano di salire. In bicicletta era impossibile pedalare, quindi procedetti a piedi, spingendo la bici lungo curve e strade strette. Fortunatamente non pioveva, altrimenti sarebbe stato davvero terrificante!
La fatica fu premiata: arrivata in cima, la vista era incredibilmente bella, aprendo lo sguardo sulla strada principale appena percorsa.
Superata Olival Basto, proseguii verso Lapa, elegante quartiere storico situato su una collina, famoso per le sue ville, ambasciate e giardini. Le strade lastricate e le discese ripide mi portarono lungo il Tagus River, dove la città cominciava a dispiegarsi davanti a me.
Entrando nel cuore di Lisboa, la città era viva: tram che scivolavano sui ripidi vicoli, facciate illuminate dal sole e il quartiere marittimo di Belém, ricco di monumenti alla storia marinara del Portogallo.
Attraversando il fiume Tago in traghetto, raggiunsi la Costa da Caparica, situata lungo la costa occidentale della penisola di Setúbal, dove spiagge e piste ciclabili mi guidarono verso sud. Proseguendo lungo la costa, raggiunsi il porto di Setúbal e lo stuario del Sado, dove presi un breve traghetto per attraversare il fiume, approdando sulla penisola di Tróia.
🇪🇸🇵🇹 Stage 5d – Tróia → Lagos
From Tróia, I continued along the Alentejo coast wild, rural, and timeless. I reached Sines, the birthplace of Vasco da Gama, where Praia Vasco da Gama stretches before the harbor like a tribute to the great navigator.
Heading south, I passed through Cercal do Alentejo and arrived at Vila Nova de Milfontes, where I crossed the Mira River bridge, with the ocean wind rising through the valley and the calm river waters flowing toward the Atlantic.
Beyond Odeceixe, whitewashed houses and cork and olive fields dotted the landscape. Further on, Aljezur welcomed me in the heart of the Costa Vicentina Natural Park.
From here, I could have reached Sagres, the southwestern tip of Portugal, but I chose to explore less touristy spots, leaving the coast to discover the hidden gems of inland Algarve.
Following these inland routes, I passed through Bensafrim and small villages like Budens, before descending back to the coast at Lagos, where the cliffs at sunset gleamed golden, carved into caves and arches by the relentless sea. The town itself seemed to breathe the history of Portugal, evoking the era when caravels set sail from its harbor to explore new worlds.
🇪🇸🇵🇹 Stage 5e – Lagos → Vila Real de Santo António / Ayamonte
From Lagos, heading east along the Algarve, I rode on flat, smooth roads that followed the coastline. I passed through Portimão, crossing the Arade River bridge, where the landscape remained low and open, with no significant hills or climbs.
Eastern Algarve is indeed a completely flat region: sandy coasts, cultivated fields, small coastal towns, and gentle undulations that never interrupt the rhythm of cycling.
I continued toward Lagoa, Faro the capital of the Algarve and Olhão, where cycle paths and quiet back roads ran between farmland and stretches of solar panels. I finally reached Cabanas de Tavira, a charming former fishing village near historic Tavira. Here the landscape softened even more: long flat stretches, peaceful lanes, and a slow pace that invited pauses along the way.
By now, I was in the eastern Algarve, almost at the Spanish border. Ahead of me stretched the Guadiana River, its calm waters both separating and connecting the two countries. Following the river, I arrived at Vila Real de Santo António, an orderly, completely flat town perfect for the final pedal strokes of my Portuguese journey.
From there, crossing into Spain was simple: a short ferry carried me to Ayamonte on the opposite bank, the gateway to Andalusia and the start of the road toward Huelva, Seville, and the Strait of Gibraltar.
🇵🇹➡️🇪🇸 Stage 6: Ayamonte → Tarifa via Huelva, Seville, and the Strait of Gibraltar
📌 Click if you want to explore this stage: the route details, stories, and GoPro footage
Leaving the border town of Ayamonte, I pedaled east across the province of Huelva, following quiet country roads, lightly trafficked and often lined with citrus orchards, olive groves, and sun-drenched fields. The route alternated between smooth asphalt and well-maintained dirt tracks, offering a sense of calm and full immersion in the Andalusian countryside.
I passed through the lively port city of Huelva before reaching San Juan del Puerto, a small village along the Rio Odiel, where streets were peaceful and flanked by typical Andalusian houses. Continuing toward Niebla, I was struck by its imposing walled enclosure, rising majestically above the surrounding plains, telling centuries of medieval history as my wheels rolled along the rural roads.
Heading east, I arrived in Seville, a city with Iberian-Punic roots, featuring an extraordinary network of cycle paths that led me through its treasures: the Alcázar, the Cathedral with the Giralda, the winding streets of Santa Cruz, the lively Triana district, and the iconic Plaza de Toros de la Real Maestranza de Caballería, witness to centuries of bullfighting tradition. Of all these, what caught my eye most was the Plaza de España, with its arches, canals, and street musicians performing flamenco a place where the spirit of Andalusia seemed to come alive.
Leaving the city, the road carried me into Cádiz province, along the sunny Costa de la Luz, where the Atlantic meets the land with endless light. Smooth coastal roads and quiet side streets guided me past rolling fields, wind-swept dunes, and sparkling ocean views. Soon I reached El Puerto de Santa María, a city steeped in maritime history and forever tied to Columbus’ great voyages. Returning here, years after my first visit during the 500th anniversary of Columbus’ journey, brought back memories, blending past and present as my wheels kept turning.
🇵🇹➡️🇪🇸 tage 6a – Southern Coast of Spain: Puerto Real → Tarifa
Continuing south, I passed through Puerto Real and the salt flats, with the scent of aromatic vegetation mingling with the salty wind. I rode past Chiclana de la Frontera, San Fernando, Rota, and Chipiona, until reaching Sanlúcar de Barrameda, overlooking the mouth of the Guadalquivir River. Amid olive groves and golden hills, the whitewashed villages of the inland, like Vejer de la Frontera, rose on the heights, while the coastline offered ever-changing views of the Atlantic.
Following the coast, I passed through Conil de la Frontera and Barbate, with the cliffs of Parque Natural de la Breña y Marismas del Barbate, and the beaches of Zahara de los Atunes and Atlanterra, until reaching Tarifa. Beyond the town, I arrived at Punta Tarifa, the southernmost point of Spain and the entire Iberian Peninsula, where the Atlantic meets the Mediterranean in a spectacular embrace. The road climbed toward the promontories of Parque Natural del Estrecho, reaching up to 330 meters, offering breathtaking views of the Tarifa coast and the sparkling African shore across the strait.
Descending toward Algeciras, immersed in the rhythm of the port, I continued to La Línea de la Concepción, the border town where Spain meets Gibraltar, the famous British territory at the southern tip of Andalusia. I crossed the border dominated by the Rock of Gibraltar, home to the Barbary macaques. This time, however, I didn’t explore the attractions, having already visited on a previous cycling trip: I limited myself to a quick ride past the crowds, with a brief pause for a Coca-Cola, before crossing back and turning my wheels westward.
After this fleeting glimpse of Gibraltar, my Iberian journey was ready to continue along the southern coasts of Spain, opening a new chapter in an adventure that had already taken me through mountains, seas, and centuries of history.
🇪🇸🌊 Stage 7: Along the Spanish Mediterranean Coast to La Jonquera, Catalonia
📌 Click if you want to explore this stage: the route details, stories, and GoPro footage
Leaving Gibraltar behind, I entered the strait where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Mediterranean, a place where Europe and Africa seem to almost touch. Crossing this threshold felt symbolic, like the beginning of the final major chapter of my Iberian journey.
Following the coast eastward, the sea accompanied every pedal stroke, reflecting the sun and painting the golden beaches of the Costa del Sol in shades of blue and turquoise. Panoramic climbs revealed waves crashing against cliffs, while the wind carried the salty scent of the water and the rhythmic sound of the tides. Approaching Granada and Almería, the landscape became more arid and desert-like, yet the sea remained constant, dotted with hidden coves and rocky inlets.
Crossing the Cabo de Gata-Níjar Natural Park, volcanic mountains plunged into crystal-clear waters, and the pristine beaches seemed endless. Carboneras, with its small harbor and golden shores, offered a panorama of lights and reflections on the sea that felt eternal, turning every pedal stroke into a suspended moment between nature, silence, and infinite horizons.
🇪🇸🌊 Stage 7a – Costa Blanca, Costa Daurada, Costa del Maresme, and Costa Brava to La Jonquera
Continuing north along the Costa Blanca, hills alternated with flat stretches between whitewashed villages and fertile plains all the way to Valencia, where sun and sea accompanied every pedal stroke. The climbs along the Costa Daurada offered golden glimpses of beaches and ancient towns, while in Tarragona, its imposing cathedral and Roman ruins stood against the infinite blue of the Mediterranean.
Further north, the undulating roads of the Costa del Maresme led toward Barcelona, where sea and hills intertwined in a mosaic of light and color. The beaches of Barceloneta lapped at the city, while Gaudí’s masterpieces, such as the Sagrada Família and Parc Güell, added magic and fantasy to the bustling streets. Vibrant squares and extraordinary architecture mingled with the sound of the sea and the city’s lively energy, creating a striking contrast with the tranquility of the previous coasts.
Finally, the rises and falls of the wild Costa Brava guided me to La Jonquera, just a step from the French border, amid rugged cliffs and the deep, intense sea.
Every turn told a story: the sea changing shades, ancient ports, silent deserts, whitewashed villages, lively squares, and cities pulsating with life. It was a vast, demanding, and unforgettable route, yet in that quiet moment it felt simple: just me, my bicycle, and the endless blue horizon that had accompanied me from the very beginning to the end of my Iberian journey.
Route Details
• Direction: Counterclockwise
• Distance: 5,714.23 km
• Daily Average: 95.24 km/day
• Duration: 60 consecutive days (no rest days), August 22 – October 20, 2024
• Countries Crossed: Spain, Portugal, France, Italy
• Interview 🗨: Circumnavigation of the Iberian Peninsula – Coming soon
• Full Route Map 📍: Map
• Stage Maps Achive 📍: Stage Maps Archive
• Be part of the journey 📖 🎥 : Follow the daily travel diary stages and relive every ride with the GoPro
🇪🇸➡️🇫🇷➡️🇮🇹 Stage 8a – From Col du Testanier to Ventimiglia, French and Italian Riviera
From the Col du Testanier, a long and exhilarating descent carried me back toward the Azur Coast, all the way to Cannes, where the deep blue of the Mediterranean once again dominated the horizon. I continued through Villeneuve-Loubet and Nice, immersing myself in the city’s vibrant rhythm: the Promenade des Anglais, the lively urban backdrop, and the beating heart of Place Masséna, with its iconic Fontaine du Soleil and bronze statues of Earth, Mars, Venus, Mercury, and Saturn, captured my attention at every turn.
To avoid retracing the coastal route already ridden on the outbound journey, I tackled the final major climb along the panoramic section of the Grande Corniche, the iconic road that rises high above the Mediterranean, offering sweeping curves and monumental views. The ascent led me through La Trinité and La Turbie, suspended above the Principality of Monaco. Fatigue gradually gave way to wonder, as endless panoramas and Mediterranean light unfolded around every bend.
From the summit, the final descent began—smooth and elegant—through Roquebrune and Menton, the last jewel of the French Riviera, scented with citrus groves and bathed in golden light. Crossing into Italy along the Via Aurelia, I finally reached Ventimiglia, framed between sea and mountains. It was there that the circle closed, exactly where everything had begun.
I had completed the circumnavigation of the Iberian Peninsula by bicycle, from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic and back again, crossing France and Italy. What an adventure—one of those experiences that remain etched in memory forever, shaped by breathtaking landscapes, climbs and descents, sea and mountains, challenges and joy.
And to all the people I met along the way, whose warmth and generosity made this journey even more meaningful, and to my family and friends Vivi Roby, Ruthie, and everyone who followed from afar, sharing emotions and kilometers as if riding beside me my deepest gratitude. 💛
🇪🇸➡️🇫🇷➡️🇮🇹 Stage 8 – From La Jonquera through the French and Italian Riviera to Ventimiglia – End of the Tour
📌 Click if you want to explore this stage: the route details, stories, and GoPro footage
With a deep, satisfied smile, I began the final stage of my journey from La Jonquera, crossing the French border through Le Perthus. The road felt familiar, yet surprisingly new: the places I had already passed on the outbound journey seemed to greet me, bathed in a different, warmer, and more aware light.
In Barcarès, in the Pyrénées-Orientales, memories resurfaced strongly. It was there, at the start of the journey, that I had ridden the Vélosud Pré-Alpes Française, the coast-to-coast cycling route. That place was not just a point on the map but a symbol of the beginning of it all. Returning now meant ideally closing the circle of my circumnavigation of the Iberian Peninsula.
Following the EuroVelo 8 – Mediterranean Cycle Route, I passed through Perpignan and Fleury, skirting the Canal du Midi, where shaded trails run alongside calm waters beneath centuries-old plane trees. Cycling among vineyards, canals, and sun-soaked fields was the perfect prelude to the landscapes of lagoons and sea awaiting me towards Narbonne and Sète, the famous “Venice of Languedoc,” where canals shimmer between lagoon and Mediterranean.
After leaving Sète, I reached La Grande-Motte, choosing a route that crossed the system of lagoons suspended between land and sea. I pedaled along Le Lido, between Petit and Grand Travers, passing near Palavas-les-Flots, where canals, ponds, and salt pans host pink flamingos moving slowly in the shallow waters, creating a quiet and almost surreal atmosphere.
Continuing on, I reached La Grau-du-Roi, where the Mediterranean meets the edge of the Camargue Regional Natural Park. To avoid retracing the outbound route, I ventured inland, through marshes, salt flats, and small villages, immersing myself in a stark and authentic landscape where nature and tradition still coexist. From here, the route continued towards Saint-Gilles and Arles, a city steeped in history and art, where Roman heritage and Provençal atmosphere coexist in perfect harmony. Cycling through its ancient streets, dominated by the majestic Roman Amphitheatre, felt like brushing past centuries of history with every turn of the wheel.
Leaving the streets of Arles, a city deeply connected to the memory of Vincent van Gogh, the journey continued into the heart of Provence, passing through Aix-en-Provence, Brignoles, and pine- and vineyard-scented hills. This time, unlike the outbound route, the path did not follow the sea but ventured inland, offering new perspectives and a continuous sense of discovery.
I passed through tranquil villages like Vidauban and Roquebrune-sur-Argens, passing by the Mosquée Missiri and through the Forêt Communale de Fréjus, along the Route de Cannes. Here the road began to climb steadily, surrounded by greenery, until reaching the Col du Testanier (311 m). A quiet, immersive climb where effort blended with the beauty of the landscape—a perfect prelude to the final kilometers toward home.