Week 1
Having landed safely and been met by the large
taxi I had booked to take us to Gibraltar I am gutted to discover that
the nut on the other end of the bike's rear quick release is gone. Sheared
off in fact. Dicte's bike is also bashed but fortunately still whole. Spanish
taxis are not allowed across the border into Gib and unable to ride my
bike we trudge gloomily through the town of Gibraltar in search of our
hotel. The farewells at the airport, fairly stoical and restrained at the
time were beginning to sink in. By Sunday I discover the real meaning of
homesickness. I 'd been awake nearly all night wondering just what the
hell I was doing there! Fortunately Dicte is a positive person and we embarked
on a rather strenous walking tour of 'The Rock' which was well worth the
effort. En route I flagged down a Spanish mountain biker who gave me the
address of a bike shop in Spain.
Monday 24 April 2000
Day 1
36 km to Neuvo Guardiaro via Punta de Europa,
Gibraltar. Sure enough, despite Monday being a public holiday the shops
in La Linea (Spain)are open and the bike shop provides the new Q/R without
a word of English being exchanged! Spirits up again we hurry back across
the border to the hotel, load our bikes and set off for the Puenta de Europa
- the southernmost starting point. The hills are very steep on Gib. and
there is plenty of traffic in Spain but it feels good to have got going
according to plan. Avoid motorway by using the ‘via de servicio’
service roads
Day 2
66km to Ojen via Estepona, Marbella (nightmare
finding way out!) A355. Estepona is a quiet, up market holiday town but
the sea was cold! Traffic heavy at times but a helpful tailwind. A355 up
to Ojen quite busy with heavy lorries (on way to & from quarry?) Ojen
- small, attractive, white village on mountainside. Difficult to find accommodation
but the rumours of our presence in the small village spread quickly and
after help from the villagers we ended up in a newly built apartment that
was only half furnished and rather more pesetas than we'd bargained
on but was very nice. We are finding the Spanish very pleasant and helpful,
despite our extremely limited Spanish.
Day 3
62km
Malaga via Monda, Coin, Puerto de la Torre. Saw
plenty of orange & lemon trees on the way and several other touring
cyclists including one lost Brit who thought he was on his way to Rhonda
but was in fact closer to Coin. Having initially wanted to miss Malaga,
a lack of accommodation in the nearby villages meant we were forced in
to the town. Malaga seemingly only accessible via motorways! Truly horrendous
traffic. My companion is terrified & me only slightly less so! The
Youth Hostel we stumble across more by luck than judgement is enormous,
clean and cheap. Room mates provided valuable info about visiting the Alhambra
in Granada – the week’s goal.
Day 4
49km
Ventas de Zafarraya via very helpful but very
cramped taxi out of Malaga to Casabermeja (as motorway is forbidden to
cyclists), Colmenar, Sabar, Periana, A335.
The run to Salmar (590m) was a long grind but
gave stupendous views. The final long climb in a violent, cold hailstorm
brought us to strange, dilapidated village at 1000m. Lots of birds, flowers
and goats on the way and the lovely herb smell of Spanish country roadsides
so why does the whole village smell of fish? In the swirling rain it looks
like two rows of white rubble, separated by a rutted potholed road. Lorries
drive through endlessly, aimlessly, emptily. A cheap, cold room - no heating,
wet clothes, numb fingers & toes. Mr Macho, the bar tender, runs the
bar with one eye fixed on dubbed American shoot'em up films, whilst chewing
matchsticks, shooting at the TV with his finger pistol!
Dicte ventured out when the rain stopped and
bought some sherry - very cheap, very local, very fiery. Almost undrinkable
actually, although being a true Swede she decanted what we didn't drink
that evening into a plastic bottle to take with us for 'medicinal' purposes!
Friday Day 5
70km
Granada via Alhama de Granada, A338, Embalse
de dos Bermejales, Agron, La Mala
A cold, clear and sunny morning presented the
village in a better light. An icy wind howled as we packed our bikes and
set off across a high, fertile plain followed by arid, semi-desert country.
Steep new roads, sheep with bells. The reservoir ‘Embalse de los Bermejales’
is an exquisite blue. We get our first glimpses of the mountains of the
Sierra Nevada and chat to several more touring cyclists including experienced
and lightly loaded Brits from Derbyshire and Belgians on bikes damaged
by airport handlers. We arrive tired hot and dusty in Granada but it has
been a wonderful day's cycling, despite puncture for Dicte.
After several vain efforts to find a room and
with literally only minutes remaining we find a hotel that sells us their
last room - a sparse but spacious family room at the top of the house.
A weekend fete means accommodation is in great shortage but why are our
rooms always at the top of the building?
The prerequisite grand-dad is there in the foyer
guarding the establishment in between dozing. He doesn't want his daughter
to put our bikes in his enclosed yard. We don't need Spanish to understand
she thinks he is a pain in the butt!
Days 6&7
Granada – 2 rest/sightseeeing days. Seeing the
Alhambra entails a 2 hour, early morning queue starting at 6.30 am to get
two of the 8000 tickets for the day. Our hostess shakes her head and is
surprised when we appear with tickets for the afternoon. We'd have missed
our chance had we not been told how things worked when we were at the YH
in Malaga. We take the chance to launder, repair Dicte's puncture
and visit the Albaicin & Sacromonte districts and cathedral as well.