The Sausage butty run

An early start this morning wasn't early enough to succesfully fit Nick's newly arrived pannier rack to his bike so the day before the tour commences we still have untried hardware.

Today was the Sunday edition of the thrice weekly ex pat ride from the Zurgena and Arboleas areas to the small town of Cantoria further up the Almanzora valley.

Although only a 20 mile return trip by the shortest route it was a good and final opportunity to trial our newly repaired and serviced bikes.

The trial soon proved necessary as my brakes were rubbing and my gears seemed to have been upgraded to automatic as highlighted by frequent unrequested gear changes. A few minor tweeks seemed to rectify these issues.

Nick however would have gladly exchanged his mechanical shortcomings with mine as his gears proved to have the functionality of a bag of shite!

Several stops later and after much theorising as to the cause of the problem, our arrival at the usual hostelry in Cantoria was somewhat delayed.  We thought the most likely issue was the indexing of the rear derailleur, a theory agreed by John, the local velo guru at the bar in Cantoria.

The noisy banter of the ex pat peloton at the bar was interrupted only for the important business of the day, the ordering of cafe con leches all round and of course the local Andalusian delicacy of bocadillo salchichas (sausage butties).

Nick's gears seemed better on the way back to Zurgena but with the benefit of hindsight (we are now on day 2 of the tour) our confidence in Nick's mechanics were misplaced.

Tomorrow is day 1 of the Sierra tour and this evenings weather is a little ominous although the forecast seems good.

                                             Just after an evening thunder storm:

A lazy day on the coast

Chilling in Calabardina and Aguillas:

5 days until the tour starts so taking it easy.  We're enjoying a 2 night stay at the peaceful Hotel Mayari in Calabardina. We are the only guests and we were treated to a personal tour of the hotel's very own museum of north African antiquities.

Our day started with a light breakfast of muesli, yogurt, banana, strawberries, orange juice, toast, rye bread, croissants, jam, tomatoes, cucumber, salami, ham, cheese washed down with 2 cups of excellent cafe con leche, no lunch required!

We took a stroll/spin along the deserted promenade in Calabardina.

I left Claire to rest on the promenade for half an hour whilst I joined in with the beach aerobics 'Little Britain' style! 😄

We drove to the area's main resort, Aguillas.  

  
                                                       Aguillas port:

This is the chairman of the local BOSG (Body Odour Support Group) enjoying a day on the beach at Aguillas

Hornillo Pier

The old pier which is a remnant of the railway built by British engineers in the late 19th century to load the locally mined iron ore on to ships.

Tomorrow we head to Zurgena where I will be reunited with my trusty steed so that I can check her servicability for the upcoming tour. Roll on Monday.

On the road again

On the road again, in Southern Spain:

In a week or so and after too long a gap the wheels and the walking stick will be back on the road and back in Andalusia.  The plan is to cycle from Almeria province and do a full circumnavigation of the Sierra Nevada massif, a route of some 600km and around 35,000 ft of ascent.

This time I won't have the luxury of riding at my own lazy pace as I will be accompanied by my brother Nick, a resident of southern Spain and someone who unfortunately and very much unlike me has the build and weight of a proper cyclist.  

I don't expect an easy trip!

A short tour in Almeria province - Day 3 of 3

Up and over:

I decided to leave the sensible option for another day, Sorbas would have to wait. I girded my loins for a more direct crossing of the Sierra de los Filabres mountain range. I retraced the route from day 1 as far as Uleila del Campo and resisted the temptation to take the outward route in full and head towards Lubrin.

I could see the onward route to Albanchez high on the mountain ahead. It was sufficiently daunting for me to stop and dismount the bike, check my tyres, brakes, water bottle levels and my sanity.

               The onward route can be seen top centre rising across the hillside from left to right:

I passed a sign which said 'Cantoria 38km' – not a great distance in cycling terms but with 40deg C and a mountain range to cross it prompted a moment of concern.

The climb started on the road which skirts the village to the west and continued relentlessly.

I soon abandoned any thought of completing the climb without stopping, the hot still air seemed to provide no fuel for faltering legs. I tried to stop where there was a hint of dappled shade from roadside trees but there was little. What breeze there was would be strongest on the bridges where re-entrants in the mountainside funnelled the air a little so that's where I stopped, baking in the afternoon sun to try to cool down!

                     Brown signs with the word 'Sierra' generally warn of a hard day at the office!

The high point of the pass had been in view for some time, or so I thought. Of course around each bend there was further ascent. I came across the first good patch of shade and stopped to rest for a few minutes. The only food I had was the sticky remains of a bunch of grapes I'd plucked from my sisters terrace the night before departure but they were much needed. At least I had water, warm water!

Everything comes to he who sweats and eventually I reached the Puerto de la Virgen, the Pass of the Virgin.

                                                 My hard earned rendezvous with the Virgin!

I hoped that the ascent had all but ended for the day and after a photo stop on the pass I enjoyed the reward of another flowing descent.

I took a small detour into the village of Albanchez looking for a cold drink and food. As is generally the case it was deserted. I was half way through the village when I heard voices,

I followed them and came into the plaza to find a small stall setup serving drinks and food. The locals stared inquisitively as always as the dripping cyclist slurped his first cold drink.

The food being served was paella and I had a small plateful with a chunk of bread for 1 euro, delicious.

The roller coaster ride continued down the the road between Cantoria and Almanzora which I was familiar with from my local excursions. From there a mixture of Rambla (dry riverbed) and road took me back to Alforquia and a couple of cold bottles before tea.

The trip has opened my mind to further possibilities, it is an option to ride in extreme heat and it's certainly preferable to riding in the wind and rain.

Short days, lots of water and a tolerance of incredulous looks from the locals are the secrets.