Giant Ants aren't so bad

I'd had a couple of testing days, the climb out of Toledo and others climbs to follow were hard.  That day ended in Navahermosa 'the dodgy hostal'.  The following day was a little easier but the crossing of the Montes de Toledo and the Sierra de Cabaneros were tough for a fat bloke on a bike.  It was hot and the climbs were long and numerous.

I read somewhere that Spain is Europe's 2nd most mountainous country, presumably after Switzerland.  It's a damn silly choice then for a first proper cycle tour.  Maybe Holland or Belgium would have been more sensible although I've heard that the hills of the Flemish Ardennes can be challenging.

I'd be interested to know what the ratio of time spent climbing to time spent descending is on days where there is little level ground, it must be in the region of 85/15 so that's a lot of time grinding 'The Tank' uphill!

After Navahermosa I was bound for another camp site, this time in Hocajo des Montes not knowing whether it would be open?  It didn't look too impressive as I approached but it was at least open.  How wrong I was, it looked very inviting with a big swimming pool surrounded by lush green lawns.

Reception was closed.  A camper in residence said hello as I was admiring the pool, I asked about reception, the shop and most importantly, the bar.  'Reception may be open later' he said, 'but forget the shop and the bar, they're closed'!  That's a blow I said, I could have murdered a cold beer upon which the chap went to his camper van and returned with a bottle of well chilled beer.

I chose a pitch on the rock hard gravel, setup my Thermarest chair against a tree in the shade, leant back and had one of those 'Ice cold in Alex' moments, beer had never tasted better, thank you Roger.

Th camp site was so well placed with great views over the town below and the mountains.  I was almost tempted to stay a second night.  when I say almost, I was!  I had a big pool to myself in the early evening so a rest day, I mean of course a laundry and bike maintenance day was called for.  The following day was less serene as a dozen students from Barcelona University arrived at the pool just as I was preparing to take my afternoon swim.  They did what young people do in swimming pools, shout, scream, splash and dive bomb, I retired to the peace of my tent cursing the vitality of youth!

In northern Spain I had grassy pitches, no such luxury for the rest of the country.  Pitches are generally rock hard gravel or stones, no chance of getting a tent peg in so improvisation is required.  Usually there are a few large stones around to help.

This is a typical setup for meal times.  A tree is handy to lean on and provides shade but my Thermarest chair works well when no tree is available.  An empty pannier is used as a table, the only down side is once I'm settled there is always something I forgot so I have to stand up from sitting on the ground which isn't easy at my age.

It doesn't do to look too closely at the ground, it's usually alive with ants of various sizes.  This site was exclusively for giant ants, they were everywhere, the more you look, the more you see.  I just ignore them, they don't seem to bite.  Getting them out of the tent is fun, they seem to sense your approach and change direction constantly but I've become quite adept at pinching then between my fingers and throwing them out of the tent.  They just go and get lots of their mates and come back so I'm fighting a losing battle!