GRAPES: In agriculture we forgot grapes. We passed through miles of vineyards, many being harvested. Pickers would wave and yell as we rode by. There were tractors pulling wagons loaded with grapes heading to the wineries. The vineyards were mostly further north.
WILDLIFE: Aside from the flock of buzzards circling us in the desert, we saw deer, lots of rabbits, a spruce or blue grouse, some hawks, and maybe a fox. The bugs aren't bad, and we saw lots of geckos. In the north we saw dead snakes on the road, some big enough that you wouldnt want to meet them, and cute little hedgehogs. We imagined we saw wild boar, but in truth they were probably domestic.
Friday 30 September 2011
Wednesday 28 September 2011
SOME OBSERVATIONS ABOUT SPAIN, AFTER 16 DAYS AND 925 KMS.
FIRSTLY: We never met a Spaniard we didn't like. Some of them we've liked a lot. The guy who gave us the keys to his hotel. The lady who directed us to the Plaza España in Aguilar, and then followed us and whistled when we missed the turn. The girl in the bar who dropped all her "S's" when she spoke and had the patience of Job when we couldn't understand her, until finally we told her to just bring us whatever she thought we might like for dinner. The guard on the train who took care of us after Grady got us on the wrong train. Josa in Mérida, who introduced us to the english learner/pub crawl group of locals after finding us a hotel in Mérida. The english learner who was a forester, to Daryl's delight. The nurse who patched up Laurie's hacked up finger, and the bike shop owner who opened up his shop late at night to fix our bikes. And on and on - innumerable random acts of kindness, mostly people going out of their way to help us find our's. Wonderful people! All willing to instruct Laurie and Grady on spanish vocabulary and verbs, to play charades with Daryl, or to fulfill Ross's oft repeated request for "an cervaso per favire?
SECONDLY: Resist the urge to book hotels online. The best hotels are those recommended by locals or just stumbled upon by chance. The walk-in price is better than the booked price, especially those booked online. Besides, searching for a hotel is a fun way to see the new town. Only once or twice was a hotel full and in each case it recommended another nearby hotel with availability. A 3 star hostal is better than a 2 star hotel, but usually cheaper. Most hostales are family run and very friendly. Only a small fraction of the available hoteles and hosteles are listed on the internet booking sites.
THIRDLY: Make sure your group is compatible. We had a pretty good idea ours was after all the training rides, but it became clear that give and take was essential and we all took our turn, some just more than others. The trip was an incredible team effort as there were dozens of decisions to be made daily, from which road to take, where to stop for coffee, breakfast, when, how far to travel, where to stay, what to see, and on and on. We made some very good group decisions, like, rotating meal payments after 125€, instead of breaking down bills every meal. Perhaps the " fixed incomer" was judged to having an addition problem on his turn, but otherwise it went very well. Gives you another insight into the difference between assisted cycling tours and independent efforts like ours.
SMOKING: Its really upsetting. So many more people smoke than we're used to in Canada. It seems to be endemic, young, old and in between. Beautiful, sophisticated young women walking down the street, sucking on a cigarette or dropping it, still lit, anywhere it happens to land. We saw some indication that smoking is not allowed in some restaurants and public building, but not many. There are ashtrays everywhere. Its very sad and they really need to work on more education on the evils of smoking.
DRIVERS: Spanish drivers are way more courteous and careful than Canadians, at least with respect to sharing the road with bikes. Wherever possible they pulled way out to pass, slowed down and didn't pass on blind corners, and often gave us friendly toots to make sure we knew they were there.
HEALTH: Except for the smoking Spaniards seem to be pretty healthy. They are not nearly as fat as Canadians, and we saw lots of walkers, joggers and bikers out for exercise. They have good health care from what we saw, lots of health clinics, doctors and pharmacies.
DIET: It takes some getting used to. Breakfast is a coffee latte or sickly sweet hot chocolate, with at most a pastry or toasted bun with jam or, more often, tomato sauce drizzled with olive oil, or pig fat as a pate. Lunch is at 2:00 and is either tapas or the menu del día - 2 courses with bread, dessert and a drink, usually for under 10€. Dinner is at 10:00, and is usually a selection of tapas. We tended to eat a big meal late, and then go straight to bed and writhe around trying to digest it. In the end we learned to just have salad for the late meal. The hard riding and heat tended to quell our appetites, except Ross who was always hungry.
INFRASTRUCTURE: The Spanish road and train system is nothing short of amazing! We were not allowed on the #1 system, the Autovias and Autopistas, but the next ones down, theNationales, are every bit as good as our best and we went all the way down to the south and still found them not only navigable but well signed and close to the road maps. Most were newly paved, with, we surmised, German pavement, with almost no traffic away from the main towns. Trains were used three times and while the Renfe system was staffed with some very blunt autocrats, we soon caught on to the do's and don't and except for the fact that we could not ride the FAST train the whole structure was incredible. In Madrid they have a fabulous Metro system, which is very well used. Once we figured out bikes on escalators, it was a breeze to use, and cheap and fast. In short they have a transportion system we will never see in Canada for economic reasons, and they are still building and we might suggest over-building (good for Bombardier) which may have something to do with the strained Spanish economy. If infrastructure spending is a stimulus, they're sure stimulated.
FAMILY LIFE: We all noted that there appears to be a strong family tie across the generations. The paseo, a stroll through the town center or a local park after the sun goes down, seems to be enjoyed by all age groups, often together. There are lots of young guys strutting their stuff, and girls very effectively advertising their wares, but you see little kids with grandparents, and obvious 3 generational groups everywhere. The kids, even quite small, run loose and seem to have the freedom of the town. Laurie was swarmed by a pack of well over a dozen 10-12 year olds in Mérida when he talked to them about a miniature poodle one had. Not a parent in sight. They wanted Laurie to talk english to them, responding at the top of their lungs, all at once. Most of the school aged kids we talked to had some english, even if they were often too shy to use it.
AGRICULTURE: Some of this we're guessing, but a lot of the south is made up of HUGE farms, extending literally for miles and miles without a break. Its either big agribusiness or rich barons (Dons). The small holdings seem to be confined to the rougher hardscratch country. We saw millions of acres of olive trees, corn and cotton, in that order. The machinery is big and mostly new. John Deere must be doing well. It all seemed highly efficient on a grand scale. In the north there are lots of olives, but also millions of acorn trees that the black pigs graze under. Theres lots of cattle country up north, some devoted to.fighting bulls. Incidently, during our trip Barcelona had its last bullfight before a statewide ban takes effect. Like the church, bull fighting has largely lost its support from the younger educated spanish middle class.
CARS: Lots of small diesel cars, mostly pretty new. No american cars to speak of, and no beaters. Lots of cab-over trucks, virtually none american. Never saw a conventional cab (to us) heavy truck. All the buses are Volvo or Mercedes. Gas and diesel is about 40% more than we pay.
PETS: No street dogs. In the big cities lots of small lap dogs, all well cared for. Big dogs are in the country, usually aggressive and thankfully chained or fenced in. No cats to be seen.
COSTS: Food is cheap as are the hotels. Clothing is about the same as us, and pricey in the big cities. There's lots of big money in Madrid, and business people are better dressed than us. Beer and wine is cheap. Overall, considering we ate out for every meal and stayed in hotels every night, it was a pretty inexpensive vacation. We sure saw a lot of country and met a lot of people, neither of which we would have done on a motoring trip staying in chain hotels.
SUMMARY: Highly recommended way to visit Spain. If you can do it, do it. Sancho is already organizing next years tour. Maybe northern Spain, or Uraguay up the River Platte, or maybe just Banff-Jasper and the Roger's Pass. Stay tuned.......
FIRSTLY: We never met a Spaniard we didn't like. Some of them we've liked a lot. The guy who gave us the keys to his hotel. The lady who directed us to the Plaza España in Aguilar, and then followed us and whistled when we missed the turn. The girl in the bar who dropped all her "S's" when she spoke and had the patience of Job when we couldn't understand her, until finally we told her to just bring us whatever she thought we might like for dinner. The guard on the train who took care of us after Grady got us on the wrong train. Josa in Mérida, who introduced us to the english learner/pub crawl group of locals after finding us a hotel in Mérida. The english learner who was a forester, to Daryl's delight. The nurse who patched up Laurie's hacked up finger, and the bike shop owner who opened up his shop late at night to fix our bikes. And on and on - innumerable random acts of kindness, mostly people going out of their way to help us find our's. Wonderful people! All willing to instruct Laurie and Grady on spanish vocabulary and verbs, to play charades with Daryl, or to fulfill Ross's oft repeated request for "an cervaso per favire?
SECONDLY: Resist the urge to book hotels online. The best hotels are those recommended by locals or just stumbled upon by chance. The walk-in price is better than the booked price, especially those booked online. Besides, searching for a hotel is a fun way to see the new town. Only once or twice was a hotel full and in each case it recommended another nearby hotel with availability. A 3 star hostal is better than a 2 star hotel, but usually cheaper. Most hostales are family run and very friendly. Only a small fraction of the available hoteles and hosteles are listed on the internet booking sites.
THIRDLY: Make sure your group is compatible. We had a pretty good idea ours was after all the training rides, but it became clear that give and take was essential and we all took our turn, some just more than others. The trip was an incredible team effort as there were dozens of decisions to be made daily, from which road to take, where to stop for coffee, breakfast, when, how far to travel, where to stay, what to see, and on and on. We made some very good group decisions, like, rotating meal payments after 125€, instead of breaking down bills every meal. Perhaps the " fixed incomer" was judged to having an addition problem on his turn, but otherwise it went very well. Gives you another insight into the difference between assisted cycling tours and independent efforts like ours.
SMOKING: Its really upsetting. So many more people smoke than we're used to in Canada. It seems to be endemic, young, old and in between. Beautiful, sophisticated young women walking down the street, sucking on a cigarette or dropping it, still lit, anywhere it happens to land. We saw some indication that smoking is not allowed in some restaurants and public building, but not many. There are ashtrays everywhere. Its very sad and they really need to work on more education on the evils of smoking.
DRIVERS: Spanish drivers are way more courteous and careful than Canadians, at least with respect to sharing the road with bikes. Wherever possible they pulled way out to pass, slowed down and didn't pass on blind corners, and often gave us friendly toots to make sure we knew they were there.
HEALTH: Except for the smoking Spaniards seem to be pretty healthy. They are not nearly as fat as Canadians, and we saw lots of walkers, joggers and bikers out for exercise. They have good health care from what we saw, lots of health clinics, doctors and pharmacies.
DIET: It takes some getting used to. Breakfast is a coffee latte or sickly sweet hot chocolate, with at most a pastry or toasted bun with jam or, more often, tomato sauce drizzled with olive oil, or pig fat as a pate. Lunch is at 2:00 and is either tapas or the menu del día - 2 courses with bread, dessert and a drink, usually for under 10€. Dinner is at 10:00, and is usually a selection of tapas. We tended to eat a big meal late, and then go straight to bed and writhe around trying to digest it. In the end we learned to just have salad for the late meal. The hard riding and heat tended to quell our appetites, except Ross who was always hungry.
INFRASTRUCTURE: The Spanish road and train system is nothing short of amazing! We were not allowed on the #1 system, the Autovias and Autopistas, but the next ones down, theNationales, are every bit as good as our best and we went all the way down to the south and still found them not only navigable but well signed and close to the road maps. Most were newly paved, with, we surmised, German pavement, with almost no traffic away from the main towns. Trains were used three times and while the Renfe system was staffed with some very blunt autocrats, we soon caught on to the do's and don't and except for the fact that we could not ride the FAST train the whole structure was incredible. In Madrid they have a fabulous Metro system, which is very well used. Once we figured out bikes on escalators, it was a breeze to use, and cheap and fast. In short they have a transportion system we will never see in Canada for economic reasons, and they are still building and we might suggest over-building (good for Bombardier) which may have something to do with the strained Spanish economy. If infrastructure spending is a stimulus, they're sure stimulated.
FAMILY LIFE: We all noted that there appears to be a strong family tie across the generations. The paseo, a stroll through the town center or a local park after the sun goes down, seems to be enjoyed by all age groups, often together. There are lots of young guys strutting their stuff, and girls very effectively advertising their wares, but you see little kids with grandparents, and obvious 3 generational groups everywhere. The kids, even quite small, run loose and seem to have the freedom of the town. Laurie was swarmed by a pack of well over a dozen 10-12 year olds in Mérida when he talked to them about a miniature poodle one had. Not a parent in sight. They wanted Laurie to talk english to them, responding at the top of their lungs, all at once. Most of the school aged kids we talked to had some english, even if they were often too shy to use it.
AGRICULTURE: Some of this we're guessing, but a lot of the south is made up of HUGE farms, extending literally for miles and miles without a break. Its either big agribusiness or rich barons (Dons). The small holdings seem to be confined to the rougher hardscratch country. We saw millions of acres of olive trees, corn and cotton, in that order. The machinery is big and mostly new. John Deere must be doing well. It all seemed highly efficient on a grand scale. In the north there are lots of olives, but also millions of acorn trees that the black pigs graze under. Theres lots of cattle country up north, some devoted to.fighting bulls. Incidently, during our trip Barcelona had its last bullfight before a statewide ban takes effect. Like the church, bull fighting has largely lost its support from the younger educated spanish middle class.
CARS: Lots of small diesel cars, mostly pretty new. No american cars to speak of, and no beaters. Lots of cab-over trucks, virtually none american. Never saw a conventional cab (to us) heavy truck. All the buses are Volvo or Mercedes. Gas and diesel is about 40% more than we pay.
PETS: No street dogs. In the big cities lots of small lap dogs, all well cared for. Big dogs are in the country, usually aggressive and thankfully chained or fenced in. No cats to be seen.
COSTS: Food is cheap as are the hotels. Clothing is about the same as us, and pricey in the big cities. There's lots of big money in Madrid, and business people are better dressed than us. Beer and wine is cheap. Overall, considering we ate out for every meal and stayed in hotels every night, it was a pretty inexpensive vacation. We sure saw a lot of country and met a lot of people, neither of which we would have done on a motoring trip staying in chain hotels.
SUMMARY: Highly recommended way to visit Spain. If you can do it, do it. Sancho is already organizing next years tour. Maybe northern Spain, or Uraguay up the River Platte, or maybe just Banff-Jasper and the Roger's Pass. Stay tuned.......
Sunday 25 September 2011
DARYL ABANDONS THE TOUR
We rode into Córdoba and straight to the train station. Pathetic whinging and begging fell on deaf ears - no bikes on highspeed trains, period. We could take a series of regional trains, some in the wrong direction, and would eventually end up in Madrid, or, as Ross pushed for, ride part way. The bus station is conveniently located across the street from the train station, so we bought bus tickets to Madrid. Daryl jumped a fast train to Malaga to get Judy, and will return in time for the bus trip. Laurie shared a room with Daryl's bike, far preferable to sharing with Daryl himself.
The remaining 3 took the wrong bus into El Centro, which went nowhere near El Centro, and eventually most of the bus got involved with getting us transferred to a suitable alternative, which we got onto and then rode through El Centro far beyond where we should have got off, when again the locals took pity and told us to get off, and we backtracked into the tourist area. We spent the afternoon touring the Mesquita, a christian cathedral built inside a mosque, huge beyond comprehension, and then a few more sights and a walk through the jewish quarter, from which the jews were all expelled in 1492. The former offices and dungeons of the Spanish Inquisition are oddly on proud display, they carried on for almost 400 years. yuch.
The remaining 3 took the wrong bus into El Centro, which went nowhere near El Centro, and eventually most of the bus got involved with getting us transferred to a suitable alternative, which we got onto and then rode through El Centro far beyond where we should have got off, when again the locals took pity and told us to get off, and we backtracked into the tourist area. We spent the afternoon touring the Mesquita, a christian cathedral built inside a mosque, huge beyond comprehension, and then a few more sights and a walk through the jewish quarter, from which the jews were all expelled in 1492. The former offices and dungeons of the Spanish Inquisition are oddly on proud display, they carried on for almost 400 years. yuch.
Saturday 24 September 2011
HEY! JOSH IS GETTING MARRIED TODAY
Friday 23 September 2011
SANTA CRUZ
JON CLARKE, THE OLIVE PRESS
THE RAILBED TRAIL
Thursday 22 September 2011
OUR "FLAT" DAY -- NOT
EN ROUTE TO RUTE
HOTEL CIUDAD LUCENA
Wednesday 21 September 2011
On to Lucena
There is such a thing as Blogger's Block and it is similar to the computer yips, at which time another team member steps in and has a go........As estimates have it we are gaining readership exponentially and therefore have a greater obligation to completeness and accuracy. I will therefore firstly explain that we are finally tuned athletes and cannot be responsible for the posting of blog entries out of order....as Ross says (constantly) it is what it is. ....We left off in Santaella, literally translating "Saint she", with a great statue in the Plaza devoted to Women, which we all toasted in the course of re-hydrating for the remainder of of our ride to Aguilar. Again direct translation of Aguilar is eagle and sure enough for the 4th time that day we rode high up to the eyrie. Not only was the town on a hill, there was not a level street in the town. After no fewer than 3, including the local constabulary, advising us there was no hotel in town, we persevered and discovered a Pension next to a delightful tavern/restaurant, with a delightful camonera who, at Laurie's urging ordered our dinner for us, as we seemed to be getting nowhere with explanationls. Exhausted we hit beds with the knowledge that the next day was only 25ks and we could afford a leisurely start after a great breakfast at the same little place next door and the same delightful young lady serving. Naturally having pedaled to the top of yet another Spanish feudal village hill top, you would think we might enjoy an equally long coast down...? Well, Laurie had yet another flat before we could get out of the Pension, so we had to find a bike shop which turned out to be at the bottom of the incoming hill which meant, well, you get the picture. The rest of the trip was uneventful from a negative stand point as we rode into a olive oil farm and got a mini tour of the operation from the owner. We are in Lucena which appears to be somewhat more protected from the economic malaise than what we have been seeing. W are all
learning lots even if, in around about way. Laurie announced that he had finally mastered the water fountain in the bathrooms but when we explained the function of the bidet he had to start over again. .....That is payback for taking and publishing a picture of me falling off my bike!...We are in a very smart hotel with a pool, so now Darryl's whining for a pool can stop....I'll pay for that. Tomorrow we are off for the first in a series of local rides of 70-100ks without panniers!
learning lots even if, in around about way. Laurie announced that he had finally mastered the water fountain in the bathrooms but when we explained the function of the bidet he had to start over again. .....That is payback for taking and publishing a picture of me falling off my bike!...We are in a very smart hotel with a pool, so now Darryl's whining for a pool can stop....I'll pay for that. Tomorrow we are off for the first in a series of local rides of 70-100ks without panniers!
FLAT REPAIR - 4 IN ONE DAY
ROADRASH
HEADING SOUTH TO THE HILLS
We had a beautiful new hotel in Rio de Palma, so a not so early start to take advantage of the breakfast buffet laid on in the morning. Ross was suffering from the accumulated rides so we gave him the option of jumping the train to Córdoba and meeting us there. He refused, saying he was good for the 50 or so kms to Córdoba, no problems. Off we went, but 5 miles down the road we threw tour plans out the window and decided to head south into the National Park mountain areas, and return to Córdoba in a few days. Grady had been pressing for a stay in that area and day trips without panniers from a central hotel. Ross's easy 50 kms to Cordoba suddenly became 100 km through hill country and the late start meant we had no choice but to ride through the heat of the day.
Our ultimate goal was Lucena, and the maps indicated small (gravel??) roads cut straight across country on the shortest route. Daryl's gps refused to believe us, and wanted to stick to the much longer national highway network. We finally got the gps in sinc by Daryl naming tiny villages en route as our destination, one after the other as we arrived at them. This is hill country, with lots of up and downs, and every village is perched on a hilltop. Everywhere we go we ask the locals for directions, and theyre always ready to assist. lots of times the women, especially, seem very reserved and grouchy until they figure out we're harmless and lost, at which point they become friendly and helpful, but just like us they often say de recha (right) when they mean la isquirda (left) which can be a nuisance until someone down the road sets us right. In one classic situation Laurie asked two old boys the way to the next village and they each turned their back to the other and pointed in exactly opposite directions. It turned out one had misunderstood Laurie's accent in what passes for his spanish and thought we wanted a different village. What a great picture it would have made. We all were killing ourselves laughing.
We made it to Santella mid afternoon. Ross (remember the one who said he was hurting) had taken off in the lead with Daryl pressing to stay in sight. Grady and Laurie were well back, just as Laurie (who was still going into the old churches and lighting candles) had his 2nd, 3rd and, yes, 4th flat tire. Grady stayed back and mechanic'd, in the blazing sun. Daryl's gps had clocked 100.7'F that afternoon. Our water in the carrier bottles was actually hot. With the help of our BlackBerries and texting we all found each other in Santaella, and got under an umbrella (parasol= for sun) at a streetside bar and drank gallons of water with SuperRoss downing a cerveza or two. There we fixed Laurie's 5th flat of the trip, at which point Sancho decided he was banned from further church attendances. Only then did Laurie admit he had been secretly reading the Koran.
Our ultimate goal was Lucena, and the maps indicated small (gravel??) roads cut straight across country on the shortest route. Daryl's gps refused to believe us, and wanted to stick to the much longer national highway network. We finally got the gps in sinc by Daryl naming tiny villages en route as our destination, one after the other as we arrived at them. This is hill country, with lots of up and downs, and every village is perched on a hilltop. Everywhere we go we ask the locals for directions, and theyre always ready to assist. lots of times the women, especially, seem very reserved and grouchy until they figure out we're harmless and lost, at which point they become friendly and helpful, but just like us they often say de recha (right) when they mean la isquirda (left) which can be a nuisance until someone down the road sets us right. In one classic situation Laurie asked two old boys the way to the next village and they each turned their back to the other and pointed in exactly opposite directions. It turned out one had misunderstood Laurie's accent in what passes for his spanish and thought we wanted a different village. What a great picture it would have made. We all were killing ourselves laughing.
We made it to Santella mid afternoon. Ross (remember the one who said he was hurting) had taken off in the lead with Daryl pressing to stay in sight. Grady and Laurie were well back, just as Laurie (who was still going into the old churches and lighting candles) had his 2nd, 3rd and, yes, 4th flat tire. Grady stayed back and mechanic'd, in the blazing sun. Daryl's gps had clocked 100.7'F that afternoon. Our water in the carrier bottles was actually hot. With the help of our BlackBerries and texting we all found each other in Santaella, and got under an umbrella (parasol= for sun) at a streetside bar and drank gallons of water with SuperRoss downing a cerveza or two. There we fixed Laurie's 5th flat of the trip, at which point Sancho decided he was banned from further church attendances. Only then did Laurie admit he had been secretly reading the Koran.
In Them Old Cotton Fields
Monday 19 September 2011
SEVILLA
Another 100+ km day and we arrived in Sevilla. As Grady says, it gets easier, but NOT easy. Temperature barely made it over 90' and a light breeze so it seemed positively cool compared to our 99.1 degree day in the desert. Did we mention the buzzards that circled us for a while that day in the heat of the afternoon? What's with that? We must have looked pretty weak by then.
We left Monestario in the dark and after a short climb we coasted for nearly 10 kms as we dropped down to the flat valley bottom. Cool, downhill and a beautiful sunrise. Not bad! We stopped for coffee in a little roadside bar that was open for the odd trucker and the locals in need of a little white lightening eye opener. A fellow was frying chorros across the street so we had to try that - think deep fried waffle batter strung out in strings the thickness of your thumb. Grease, white flour and salt, a healthy breakfast. As the day wore on we got into the hills and stopped for brunch of eggs and ham in a biker (motorcycle) bar run by dad, mom and the two girls, all run off their feet. There was no smoking inside so we stayed in to avoid the smokers who are very prevalent over here. National 630, which we'd been on for days, is newly paved, wide and winds its way over and through the hills between Extramaduro and Andalucía. It must be one of the best motorcycle roads on earth, and on Sunday there are hundreds of them roaring down the road single file in large groups. Two passed us on a corner with their knees almost dragging the ground they were over so hard. Sanchos foursome not so much.
We had one very long hard climb over a major pass. grade was about 6.5% for miles and it took us over an hour to climb, but from the top it was easy going all the way to Sevilla. Rather than fight the suburban traffic, after a chat with 2 friendly traffic cops who kicked us off the freeway, we made our way to a new hotel in a failed condo development in Camas, a bedroom community of Seville, and instead of rooms we rented one bedroom apartments, kitchens included. Very nice, 45 EUs including breakfast.
We took a taxi into El Centro, Seville, and touristed around the cathedral (unbelievable) and the Alcazar (likewise), before dinner in a nice streetside restaurant and back to the hotel for bed.
Today we had a late breakfast and long argument about what tondo and where until finallybRoss was put in charge and chose to take the train to Cordova. We road to a Metro station and jumped the subway to the station closest to the train station where we rode to on bike paths, right across the center ofntown.
We left Monestario in the dark and after a short climb we coasted for nearly 10 kms as we dropped down to the flat valley bottom. Cool, downhill and a beautiful sunrise. Not bad! We stopped for coffee in a little roadside bar that was open for the odd trucker and the locals in need of a little white lightening eye opener. A fellow was frying chorros across the street so we had to try that - think deep fried waffle batter strung out in strings the thickness of your thumb. Grease, white flour and salt, a healthy breakfast. As the day wore on we got into the hills and stopped for brunch of eggs and ham in a biker (motorcycle) bar run by dad, mom and the two girls, all run off their feet. There was no smoking inside so we stayed in to avoid the smokers who are very prevalent over here. National 630, which we'd been on for days, is newly paved, wide and winds its way over and through the hills between Extramaduro and Andalucía. It must be one of the best motorcycle roads on earth, and on Sunday there are hundreds of them roaring down the road single file in large groups. Two passed us on a corner with their knees almost dragging the ground they were over so hard. Sanchos foursome not so much.
We had one very long hard climb over a major pass. grade was about 6.5% for miles and it took us over an hour to climb, but from the top it was easy going all the way to Sevilla. Rather than fight the suburban traffic, after a chat with 2 friendly traffic cops who kicked us off the freeway, we made our way to a new hotel in a failed condo development in Camas, a bedroom community of Seville, and instead of rooms we rented one bedroom apartments, kitchens included. Very nice, 45 EUs including breakfast.
We took a taxi into El Centro, Seville, and touristed around the cathedral (unbelievable) and the Alcazar (likewise), before dinner in a nice streetside restaurant and back to the hotel for bed.
Today we had a late breakfast and long argument about what tondo and where until finallybRoss was put in charge and chose to take the train to Cordova. We road to a Metro station and jumped the subway to the station closest to the train station where we rode to on bike paths, right across the center ofntown.
WIFI - The Blogger´s Nightmare
The Blog updates have been seriously impeded by the local WIFI heirarchy which does not seem to respect our position, turfing us off usually as we are about to conclude the day´s events and all of the contents are lost. I say seriously as our first line editor has taken to bed with a case of the computer yips born of frustration from lost data. I will try to bring things up todate on the hotel computor which seems to have a stuttering keyboard issue (maybe missing some ¨g´s¨)......So the ride to the station was fun as the bike path shares with the sidewalk and we just mosey our way with the crowd. Tickets bought and we begin the half hour wait for our train on track 8. Once on the train we note with alarm that the board announcing the destination of the train does not include OUR destination and sure enough, as we slowly pull out, the security guard confirms that we are on the wrong train. Like everyone we have met so far, he takes a personal interest and meets with a colleague and they determine that we can get off at a station 3 stops away and they will direct the local guard to ensure we get on the right train following. We arrive in Lora del Rio and after a quick tour of the town we head off in the 90F heat for a 28 k ride to Palma de Rio a beautiful little town built around an old walled city We asked a young fellow if the hotel we saw advertized was the best in town and he nodded, adding that it was the only hotel in town! It turned out to be a lovely place and debated whether to use it as a base for day trips for a few days but decided over dinner that we should carry on to Cordoba tomorrow and then find a place southof there in the Lucena area to stay for a few days of cycling in the mountains; cuz you can´t get enough of those hills you know!
Sunday 18 September 2011
ITS ALL DOWNHILL FROM HERE
Andalucía here we come
Having started in the autonomous region of Castilla-León, we headed south from Mérida through the autonomous region of Extramadura towards Andalucia. Saturday was an early start in the dark as we made our way through the mostly deserted city to N630, a newly paved beautiful traffic free road, largely made redundant by the A66, think I-5. South of the city after nearly an hour we were treated to a beautiful sunrise and the 50'F temperatures started to rise with the sun. We breakfasted near Viafranca and treated ourselves to juevos and jamon with delicious roasted bell peppers. Gerb was on the hook for payment. We rotate payments with each of us in turn paying for everything up until approximately 125 EUs are spent when the next guy takes over. Sancho rides free.
We made a side trip to Zafra, our first white village. Zafra means "cute white town perched on top of a ridiculously high mountain" in spanish. We coffee'd in the town plaza with a really nice bartender and his wife who gave us lots of local colour and history. A little (seriously, maybe 4'6") lady took us aside to the Plaza Pequeña, conveniently located next to the aptly named Plaza Grande, and showed us the official meter, carved into a large corner column in the square. It took even our spanish speakers a long while to figure out what she was trying to tell us. She was delightful, as were the 3 lovely nuns Laurie engaged in halting conversation in his version of spanish.
We carried on looking for a local farm road but Daryl's GPS took us back to the main road instead. It did, however, give us accurate turn by turn instructions out of Zafra. what we have learned is that for every tough climb, there's a nice downhill coast on the other side. Overall we've dropped 3500' since Alba and feel sorry for the northbound bikers. Later we stopped in another white village, Fuente de Cantos, a small little place. We just head for the biggest charch in town, and thats where the main plaza will be. on arrival we were hustled by a 6 year old urchin, who lead us behind the church to his mom and dad's restaurante, where we had a fabulous Menu Del Día, 3 courses plus drinks for 8.50 EUs.
We pressed on through the 93' heat and finally pulled into the only hotel in Monestario where we aced out two pilgrims and got the last four rooms, 28 EUs each including dinner and a picnic lunch to go. 116 kms overall. 93' seemed positively pleasant compared to our 99.1 in the desert day. Did i mention the buzzards that circled us in the desert. Truly.
Laurie's bike broke and desperately needed repair. A conference determined that cutting of a plastic disk might solve the problem. Laurie, the onlu one to regularly attend church, began the repair and soon hacked off part of his finger instead of the disk. Ross and Daryl doctored the bike while Grady doctored the finger, declaring stiches were needed. Grady walked an ashened Laurie to the local Urgencia where Grady handed over to a NURSE (yeah!!) who patched up the damage sin suturas, no charge. On returning to the hotel Ross and Daryl commandeering the local bike shop owner into opening up the store and fixing the bike, no charge. Dinner on the patio with a table of Brit pilgrims walking the El Camino, and off to bed in our 8'x8' rooms, seriously. On first viewing his room, Grady remarked "no cat swinging tonight, boys". Early next morning in the dark we headed for Seville, a mere 100 kliks away............
We made a side trip to Zafra, our first white village. Zafra means "cute white town perched on top of a ridiculously high mountain" in spanish. We coffee'd in the town plaza with a really nice bartender and his wife who gave us lots of local colour and history. A little (seriously, maybe 4'6") lady took us aside to the Plaza Pequeña, conveniently located next to the aptly named Plaza Grande, and showed us the official meter, carved into a large corner column in the square. It took even our spanish speakers a long while to figure out what she was trying to tell us. She was delightful, as were the 3 lovely nuns Laurie engaged in halting conversation in his version of spanish.
We carried on looking for a local farm road but Daryl's GPS took us back to the main road instead. It did, however, give us accurate turn by turn instructions out of Zafra. what we have learned is that for every tough climb, there's a nice downhill coast on the other side. Overall we've dropped 3500' since Alba and feel sorry for the northbound bikers. Later we stopped in another white village, Fuente de Cantos, a small little place. We just head for the biggest charch in town, and thats where the main plaza will be. on arrival we were hustled by a 6 year old urchin, who lead us behind the church to his mom and dad's restaurante, where we had a fabulous Menu Del Día, 3 courses plus drinks for 8.50 EUs.
We pressed on through the 93' heat and finally pulled into the only hotel in Monestario where we aced out two pilgrims and got the last four rooms, 28 EUs each including dinner and a picnic lunch to go. 116 kms overall. 93' seemed positively pleasant compared to our 99.1 in the desert day. Did i mention the buzzards that circled us in the desert. Truly.
Laurie's bike broke and desperately needed repair. A conference determined that cutting of a plastic disk might solve the problem. Laurie, the onlu one to regularly attend church, began the repair and soon hacked off part of his finger instead of the disk. Ross and Daryl doctored the bike while Grady doctored the finger, declaring stiches were needed. Grady walked an ashened Laurie to the local Urgencia where Grady handed over to a NURSE (yeah!!) who patched up the damage sin suturas, no charge. On returning to the hotel Ross and Daryl commandeering the local bike shop owner into opening up the store and fixing the bike, no charge. Dinner on the patio with a table of Brit pilgrims walking the El Camino, and off to bed in our 8'x8' rooms, seriously. On first viewing his room, Grady remarked "no cat swinging tonight, boys". Early next morning in the dark we headed for Seville, a mere 100 kliks away............
Friday 16 September 2011
Mérida
Cáceres
On The Road Again
We reluctantly said goodbye to our luxurious hotel in Béjar, where they put on an early breakfast for us, and hit the road southbound. There's a long climb out of Béjar but we were fresh and rested, summitting at Puerta de Béjar, perhaps the best place on earth, a beautiful little hilltop village with amazing views over an endless plain (no rain) bordered by mountains. We coasted downhill for miles onto the valley floor and carried on south. We were paralleling the Via de la Plata, part of the Camino de Santiago, and often came upon the trail and even met the occasional peligrino (pilgrams). We stopped in Guijuelo, not the best place on earth, especially if you're a pig. Its the pig slaughtering capital of Spain, with dozens of ham processing plants and a stream of livestock trucks arriving around the clock with ever more mystified porkers. Everywhere were haunches of ham, selling for about $50 Can. Its sad, but delicious.
We pressed on to Plasencia, with narrow little streets filled with little old ladies stepping in front of Ross from his blind side. We had a paella lunch in the square, and pressed on in the heat of the day with only mad dogs and englishmen for company. Its near desert type country, with nothing in the way of villages for miles. By 4:30 we were out of water and Daryl's GPS was reading 99.1'F and no shade. We stopped at a roadside bar which had some beds upstairs but no airconditioning and pretty basic, but tempting nonetheless. We met a young fellow driving north and asked him what lay south. Sancho was watching out for us at that point, this fellow's Dad owned a Casa Rural (small hotel) in Cánaveral, 20km's further south. We saddled up and pressed on, well rehydrated with water bottles replenished, and made it by 6:00. The hotel was deserted but the bar next door phoned and Dad showed up to check us in. We basically rented the hotel for 120EUs. He gave us the front door key. We collapsed in the living room, 102 kms that day. Daryl was disappointed he couldnt get a reading over 100'F. We showered up and wandered through the town's narrow little streets with its ubiquitous bars every block or two, and found a restaurant about to open at 8:00 (spanish 8 ie: 8:35). The menu was what he was cooking, a pork stew or pan fried trout, both with french fries, but big tasty fresh salads which we all were craving. A diet of steady tapas is lacking in anything green. By 10:30 we were all in bed.
The next morning was to be an early start to miss the heat, but Ross missed the memo. Grady and Laurie wandered around and found the only open bar filled with quiet sleepy truckers hunched over their cafe con leches. No matter what type of coffee Laurie ordered we got long expressos, so filled them with sugar and forced them down, immediately followed by heart palpitations. Four more para llevar (to carry) and back to our hotel where we finally kicked Ross out of bed. Our early start began at 8:30 and by 10:30 Daryl's whinging about lack of breakfast forced us into a truck stop for a breakfast of fried eggs, ham, roasted bell peppers and french fries, orange juice, toast and coffee. Back on the bikes with the added weight and by noon we were in the Plaza at Cáceres. The Zona Monumentales is amazing. Its in a walled section on the hilltop, cobbled narrow alleys, and muy antigua. Jews, Muslims and Christians all shared the city between periodic bouts of slaughtering each other. The Plaza Mayor outside the walls is huge, and we watched as they flooded it for its daily wash. We touristed it for a while before heading off on an adventurous ride around the city with Laurie and a clearly erroneously drafted map in the lead. Eventually we found our way back into the City with Ross, Grady and Daryl all shouting incomprehensible contradictory impossible instructions to Laurie at every intersection. After an unpleasant encounter with two local policia, something about one way streets, we found the train station and jumped the 7:00 PM train to Mérida, where, after an unpleasant encounter with a train guard at the station, something about jumping the tracks with bicycles, we road into the town center.
We periodically stopped locals for hotel instruction and after checking out two unsuitable suggestions, we bumped into Josa outside a bar waiting for her Thursday night get together of spanish locals learning english. They meet every Thursday where they converse in english, no spanish allowed. Josa suggested the Nova Roma Hotel, guiding us half way there, and invited us back to the bar to talk english. Quick showers and we were at a table of locals in the bar, all doing our bios in english and talking politics, economics, children and jobs. Grady and Laurie talked spanish and were answered in english. Bed at 1:30 AM and up this morning to explore the Roman Ruins, all over town.
We pressed on to Plasencia, with narrow little streets filled with little old ladies stepping in front of Ross from his blind side. We had a paella lunch in the square, and pressed on in the heat of the day with only mad dogs and englishmen for company. Its near desert type country, with nothing in the way of villages for miles. By 4:30 we were out of water and Daryl's GPS was reading 99.1'F and no shade. We stopped at a roadside bar which had some beds upstairs but no airconditioning and pretty basic, but tempting nonetheless. We met a young fellow driving north and asked him what lay south. Sancho was watching out for us at that point, this fellow's Dad owned a Casa Rural (small hotel) in Cánaveral, 20km's further south. We saddled up and pressed on, well rehydrated with water bottles replenished, and made it by 6:00. The hotel was deserted but the bar next door phoned and Dad showed up to check us in. We basically rented the hotel for 120EUs. He gave us the front door key. We collapsed in the living room, 102 kms that day. Daryl was disappointed he couldnt get a reading over 100'F. We showered up and wandered through the town's narrow little streets with its ubiquitous bars every block or two, and found a restaurant about to open at 8:00 (spanish 8 ie: 8:35). The menu was what he was cooking, a pork stew or pan fried trout, both with french fries, but big tasty fresh salads which we all were craving. A diet of steady tapas is lacking in anything green. By 10:30 we were all in bed.
The next morning was to be an early start to miss the heat, but Ross missed the memo. Grady and Laurie wandered around and found the only open bar filled with quiet sleepy truckers hunched over their cafe con leches. No matter what type of coffee Laurie ordered we got long expressos, so filled them with sugar and forced them down, immediately followed by heart palpitations. Four more para llevar (to carry) and back to our hotel where we finally kicked Ross out of bed. Our early start began at 8:30 and by 10:30 Daryl's whinging about lack of breakfast forced us into a truck stop for a breakfast of fried eggs, ham, roasted bell peppers and french fries, orange juice, toast and coffee. Back on the bikes with the added weight and by noon we were in the Plaza at Cáceres. The Zona Monumentales is amazing. Its in a walled section on the hilltop, cobbled narrow alleys, and muy antigua. Jews, Muslims and Christians all shared the city between periodic bouts of slaughtering each other. The Plaza Mayor outside the walls is huge, and we watched as they flooded it for its daily wash. We touristed it for a while before heading off on an adventurous ride around the city with Laurie and a clearly erroneously drafted map in the lead. Eventually we found our way back into the City with Ross, Grady and Daryl all shouting incomprehensible contradictory impossible instructions to Laurie at every intersection. After an unpleasant encounter with two local policia, something about one way streets, we found the train station and jumped the 7:00 PM train to Mérida, where, after an unpleasant encounter with a train guard at the station, something about jumping the tracks with bicycles, we road into the town center.
We periodically stopped locals for hotel instruction and after checking out two unsuitable suggestions, we bumped into Josa outside a bar waiting for her Thursday night get together of spanish locals learning english. They meet every Thursday where they converse in english, no spanish allowed. Josa suggested the Nova Roma Hotel, guiding us half way there, and invited us back to the bar to talk english. Quick showers and we were at a table of locals in the bar, all doing our bios in english and talking politics, economics, children and jobs. Grady and Laurie talked spanish and were answered in english. Bed at 1:30 AM and up this morning to explore the Roman Ruins, all over town.
Tuesday 13 September 2011
A Great Start
After leaving Victoria early early Friday morning we arrived in Madrid
Set up a bike shop in the airport and put the bikes back together. No damage, no losses.
3 confusing subway Metro lines later we got to Atoche train station to discover we missed the train to Ávila by 5 minutes, with a long wait for the next.
We pedalled around El Centro Madrid
Early the next morning in the dark still we road through the slowly awaking and for some, still partying predawn city to Atoche, and managed to figure out the trains.
Less than 2 hours later we were in Ávila, with its original medieval walls surrounding the old city.
We attended mass in the cathedral, looked all around, did the obligatory museum tour,
and at 1:00 headed out for Alba de Tormes after a roadside lunch of, yes...tapas.
The ride was 83 kms all uphill the first hour and then steep climbs up and down the rest of the way on secondary and third class roads but mostly nicely paved.
The tough part was a VERY strong headwind, all the way. It was a very tough ride for the first day. We checked into a nice hotel in Alba, famous for its roman bridge, still in use today.
After hot bathes all around we wandered into town to the Plaz(th)a Mayor, and found a nice sidewalk cafe/bar where we decided to have...wait for it....yes, tapas.
Laurie stuck to coke and agua but the rest sampled copious quantities of cerveza. The next morning we bussed to Salamanca
This morning we headed out early and had an easy ride to Béjar except for one very long steep summit. Weather is clear and hot. It hits mid-90’s by 1:00 but cools off at night and is quite brisk for the first hour of riding in the morning.
Minor accidents, all pilot error, bruises but no serious damage. 2 flats so far but thanks to the Wayneinar they are taken in stride and easily dealt with. The roads have been mostly good except for a 15 km stretch of old farm road on the way to Alba.
The drivers are wonderful and pass well over, sometimes with honks of encouragement. We’ve met lots of local bikers on training rides but no other touring groups so far. Everywhere we go we meet locals who are so friendly and interesting.
Grady and Laurie manage to talk to the locals in what passes for spanish. Laurie is getting good at lisping his c’s but Grady struggles. We’ve met all kinds of people who have pretty good english. Everyone has been friendly except one aggressive beggar who was a little threatening but nothing serious.
In Béjar we stumbled onto a fabulous hotel with incredibly luxurious full suites with large private patios, all beautifully furnished, for 60 euros all in including breakfast and secure bike storage, 100 meters off the Plaza Mayor. The suites are embarrassing but what the hell!
We paid 70 euros in Madrid
We more or less stick together, and those ahead stop if the stragglers fall out of sight. We’re faithful about drinking lots of water and starting to adopt the “light breakfast, big meal at 2:30 and tapas from 9 to 10 then bed.
Tonight its off to bed in ridiculously ornate brocaded kingsize beds in our separate bedrooms off our living room suites with patio views of the local mountains. This is ski country here, so we’re quite high, steep hills but very picturesque.
Oh, did I mention we had a few tapas tonight? We’ve got lots of pictures but are having serious technical problems trying to post blogs so it might be sporadic getting the pictures posted but we’ll try. Thanks to Ryan for helping out as Sancho’s helper.
Stay tuned.
Madrid.
 |
| Assembling the bikes in Madrid airport. |
Madrid. The airport bike shop
 |
| Add caption |
Friday 9 September 2011
Friday 2 September 2011
One Week To Go
As Spain sinks ever deeper into recession and political turmoil, Sancho's foursome begin packing their paniers with dollars and gold cards to help with its economic rescue. One week to go.
Monday 29 August 2011
Malahat Falls
The intrepid four have been much maligned about their inability to put the Malahat behind them. I'm pleased to report that the Malahat is now nothing more than another piece of history, as it was summited today in less than an hour from the Mill Bay Ferry. Other than the odd chest pain experienced by the eldest of the four, the Malahat turned out to be a vigorous start to another great day on the bikes! After a very nice Langford Bistro lunch we powered through Prospect Lake Road to coffee at the Red Barn and some further trip plans and packing discussions (apparently weight is such an issue that the eldest is the only one planning to take deodorant!). From there everyone went their separate ways home.
Sunday 28 August 2011
The Malahat
Rain was pathetically used as an excuse to avoid the Malahat last week. Sancho has checked the forecast and there will be bright skies and no fear of precipitation Monday, the last training session when all four riders will be together before Spain. Sancho's team-mates will attack the Malahat. Sancho's pussies will find excuses.
Wednesday 24 August 2011
THE WAYNINAR
Sancho was worried about roadside repairs in Spain, and the tour's obvious lack of mechanical abilities. A seminar was arranged at Victoria's best bicycle store, Wayne and Pam's Performance Bikes. Yasser from the Mediterranean Grocer catered dinner on the counter with traditional middle eastern specialties, including Lebanese humpback salmon, a dish responsible for much Israeli jealousy and middle eastern strife.
Tire changes, stem and headstay tuning, derailler repairs and adjustments, boxing and unpacking bikes, and a wealth of tips and suggestions were all covered over 4 hours late into the night. Pam offered deeply discounted bike clothes along with all the necessary spares and tools for the tour. Wayne imparted some useful thoughts on business, philosophy and life-lessons-learned to the assembled tour. Its no coincidence that Performance is the best bike shop in Victoria.
Sancho was pleased.
Tire changes, stem and headstay tuning, derailler repairs and adjustments, boxing and unpacking bikes, and a wealth of tips and suggestions were all covered over 4 hours late into the night. Pam offered deeply discounted bike clothes along with all the necessary spares and tools for the tour. Wayne imparted some useful thoughts on business, philosophy and life-lessons-learned to the assembled tour. Its no coincidence that Performance is the best bike shop in Victoria.
Sancho was pleased.
RIDING IN THE RAIN
Monday was 65± kms around Victoria in continuous rain. Ross, Daryl and Laurie met Grady on the Brentwood Ferry and coffee followed at the fancy Brentwood Lodge. Then a meandering tour down the peninsula to the Victoria waterfront, around Oak Bay, down Arbutus and back to home. Good ride but very wet. Looking forward to Spanish heat.
Friday 19 August 2011
Test to See If I can post to the blog
OK we can ride a bike but can we post on our progress???? Lets find out
Wednesday 17 August 2011
Sancho's Challenge
Sancho is not very optomistic about the tour's success in Spain when the group is too lazy or too frightened to ride the Malahat. Sancho thinks the Malahat should be conquered without further delay, or else change the name of the blog to Sancho's Pussies. So the Victoria crowd is to be on next Monday's 9:50 ferry from Brentwood to meet Grady in Mill Bay at 10:15. The Malahat awaits. Victory is assured.
Tuesday 16 August 2011
4rd Last Training Day
Only 25 days until we leave and these training days (every Monday) are ever so important to our fitness levels for the 3 week ride in Spain. So we all met at my (Grady's) place, all except Daryl who had to work dispatch, and Laurie who was on his boat, oh and Ross who had a business meeting and we took off to the cottage at Honeymoon Bay. Great day, 78.9Ks, avg. 20.1 kph over 3hrs 55min. Well done guys!! We are trying to put together an overnight training session to get a feel for what the "road" will be like with panniers full. Stay tuned....
Saturday 13 August 2011
Tuesday 9 August 2011
Monday 8 August 2011
One Month To Go
Today we all met at Tim Horton's in Mill Bay. After coffee and treats we rode to Shawnigan Lake (uphill) then over the Kinsol Tressel, on toward Cowichan on the Canada Trail, then back to Duncan for lunch, then Kohksila Rd south, across the highway and back to Mill Bay on Telegraph Rd. 60 km, lots of hills, tough going on the loose gravel on the trail. Grady chose the route and we only got lost once. Daryl ran out of breath but from bitching not riding. Laurie bought lunch (again). Ross almost road home via Brentwood Ferry, but not quite. Average speed about 18 km/hr so not up to our usual. Everyone shared the lead at one time or another, and no-one lagged behind. We're pretty much ready for Spain, but is Spain ready for us???
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)