Day 12

Los Pedrones – Tuéjar

83km

I don’t feel I’m getting much better at my fear of farmers. The one stationed at my exit from the woods this morning was probably oblivious to my sneaking past. In my head he was plotting my imminent death.

Once I’d escaped all was well again. As soon as my legs start spinning everything tends to fall into place.

Especially once I’ve found coffee. I seem to have become quite adept at sniffing out cafes. Above is my caffeinated face. Below is my chocolated face.

I also think (don’t hold me to this when the mountains have killed me) that taking Juan’s route advice was an excellent idea. I sang my way along beautiful, sweeping forest roads. Not like British forest roads though – these ones had proper paving.I spent a suspiciously long time descending hairpin bends. I knew I was going to have to pay for that…

When we reached the bottom Olive nearly cried. We could see the road rising up the cliff on the far side of a reservoir. Imposing would be an understatement! However, once we began to climb I began enjoying myself. It was the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. I think I stopped every half a mile to take a picture so it didn’t even feel like a hill! And I’m sure none of the pictures I took would do it justice.

It was worth every minute of climbing… except maybe I wouldn’t have complained if the last 20minutes hadn’t existed.

Bring on the mountains.

N-330

Caudete – Los Pedrones

103.25km

I’ve taken route tips for the next few days from Juan and his brother. I think they might have over estimated my ability.

The more-or-less flat start I was promised was a 20km gradual climb.

Had my mind taken off it by making friends with a truck driver who proudly proclaimed he cycle toured too. He said he needed to rush to work but then appeared 10km down the road with a friend and a big camera ready for me to pose in front of his truck. Even have a business card as a memoir… should I ever need an “excavaciones” company on my travels. Interesting start to the day.

The road did flatten out and even went downhill (shock horror!). Put on the brakes for some lunch at Ayora – a town that has literally grown out of the rock. It was such a peaceful, beautiful place:

I reached my 80km target at Cofrentes. Olive and I spent a long time at the junction down to the town debating whether it was worthwhile the effort of coming back up the hill again out of it. Again it was good looking but had a suspiciously fluorescent green river and neighbouring nuclear power plant so I won the argument and we stayed high.

Or what I thought was high until we started climbing… forever. I thought I was hallucinating when there was a roadsign for water near the top. But it was actually real. Real water flowing down the mountainside! Noticed too late it had a do not drink sign… oops. At least we were up stream of the nuclear plant.

I don’t think this picture has come out very well. Most of the day there was a strange haze hovering on the horizons. Still yet to work out what kind of weather it was or suggested.

My fear of Spanish farmers was heightened by a farmer ploughing the field next to where my tent was hidden. Every minute or so he would trundle back up the hill and scare me witless. I need to get over this fear.

Day 10: Mi Familia Español

Pinoso – Caudete

52km

The motivation for today was from my host: if you arrive by noon I will make paella. Now if that doesn’t get you cycling I don’t know what will.

Olive and I had a pretty easy morning, probably just the knowledge we didn’t have far to go. There was one testing moment where I considered throwing a tantrum. Had about a mile of shocking road surface where I was being thrown around like a rag doll. Luckily it started only a mile before a Province border and once I crossed the border the road became a dream again.

Honestly Britain could learn a good few lessons from the Spanish about roads. The abovementioned road was what would be a B-road or country lane in England. Here it was perfectly tarmac-ed (god bless the inventor of tarmac), wide, smooth and, most importantly, downhill!

After an obligatory stop for coffee we entered the home straight. A 10mile dead straight (and most importantly flat) road into Caudete.

The view ahead was spectacular. A hill with horisontal stripes (basic geology again) with windturbines right along the ridge with the town nestled into the foot of the hill. Felt like I was flying. I was so distracted by the view I didn’t register when someone shouted “Meg!”

It was the warmshowers host, Juan! He’d come out to meet me on the road. He guided me through an olive grove to his home (or what appeared to be… more on that later).

We arrived to a hive of activity. Ladies cooking, music, children playing, a beautiful sight. It appeared the extended family were here for lunch! What a lovely afternoon we had. Their limited English (it seemed the 10y old niece was the best translator) and my very basic Spanish made actual communication difficult but there were smiles all around. How could there not be with such an enticing paella?

After being fed to bursting I encountered the biggest coffee thingy of my life.

I almost forgot, starters had been an interesting one. A vegetable halfway between an onion and a leek, but a lot sweeter, cooked on an open fire then dipped in salsa. Might not sound it but probably the most delicious thing I’ve tried for a long time!

The vegetable, let’s just call it Fred, is in season it seems. The family activity this afternoon was Fred-harvesting. Literally hundreds of the things! Every time I looked up there was another barrowful. These guys are going to be having a Fred-filled few weeks/months!

Come evening groups of family started heading off. As the last group was leaving it turned out they were all leaving. Kind of strange leaving me here all by myself but clearly they trust me to not steal the Fred harvest. I was definitely made to feel part of the family. I think (but not sure yet) that Juan is coming back tomorrow morning con leche. Only time will tell!

Day 9: Cero Problemas

Librilla – Pinoso

90km (ish)

What do you call a farmer who’s protective about his lemons orchards?

Bitter…Woke at 6.30 (before it’s even light) to the sound of tractors which sounded like they were going to mow my tent down. Luckily it seems there is no need for lemon farmers to inspect their slow growing crops in the dark, or space for that matter. It’s just my over inventive imagination picturing a wild Spanish farmer wielding a sombrero tracking me down.

Today was pretty dreamy. Had company at all my meals:

Big red spider at breakfast (seen snakes and lizards too today – who new Spain was so exciting!). And yes breakfast did involve lemons…
An ant carrying a crumb twice it’s body size around in circles at lunch. Made me think maybe I am travelling light.
A big dog with an interest in tomato and pasta at tea. Unfortunately I wasn’t very generous so he tried to make friends with Olive instead.

I ate raspberries dipped in honey on two separate occasions. I am literally living the dream.

I also conquered a city without getting lost. Basically involved going a long way around the city rather than through it. And I think my route gave me a good view of Jesus (If this is meant to be Jesus)I took route advice for today from Sol. Turns out maybe I should have questioned it a bit – the road she said was gorgeous was uphill for 20km. Only a crazy cyclist has that kind of sense of beauty 😉Not entirely sure why I keep encountering such big hills. Must be karma for some evil I did in a previous life.

Spanish winds

Aguilas – Librilla

98.9km so far

Who knew it was possible to experience what seemed to be a headwind when heading in so many different directions. Mother nature wasn’t sure what was happening today.

The forecast had said light winds and scorching sunshine. I thought I’d try the possibility of a siesta so set off early to get cracking before it got too hot. My, I love mornings!

We had all that to ourselves – just me and Olive. Going up my first hill I noticed a fully lycra clad speedy bike behind. Satisfyingly he didn’t catch up. Proceeded to play leapfrog each time I stopped for a photo.

Mr lycra did kindly save me from my first scary dog scenario. Never been scared of dogs before but this one was huge, growling and salivating. My irrational brain decided the best idea was to stop and try and stare it down. Dogs can smell fear right? Probably not my best idea. Mr Lycra sprayed some water at it and it backed off.

Moral of that story is I need more water. Turns out this area of Spain is classed as a desert. Might explain why finding water has been such a challenge!

The other (less exciting but still kept me entertained) first of the day was cycling next to a toll-motorway. Naturally it was completely empty and all the trucks were on my service road. Got to go through a cool tunnel so all was well.

With the rest of my day I

Learnt the Spanish for supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
tried to siesta but got too worried about not making it to a campsite with water
Got too dehydrated so couldn’t make it to my campsite
Found a water fountain in Librilla and decided to spend my afternoon/evening sat there drinking said water and providing the local children with some light entertainment watching me make tea.

Successful day out.

The going got tough

Day 6: San Jose – Aguilas 120km (ish)

Day 7: Rest day 🌞 10km (max)

Awoken from a real bed by this sunrise over San Jose I should have been set for an awesome day. I should have asked Laura (Sol’s daughter who allowed me to share her room!) if I snored. Slept like a log.

Over breakfast at a real table we had real conversation in English – what a novelty (not just sign language and “huh?”). Sol agreed to join me out of town as she headed out for an epic mountain bike ride.

The first 10km were a dream. I think I stopped about ever 2minutes to take a picture. It was truly stunning, never seen anything like it. I’d liken it to the lake district but with gorgeous coastline too. The difference with the sheep here was they wore bells and tinkled a melody as I passed.

Unfortunately my dreams came crashing down as I turned into the wind… And the hills. Again.

30km of headwind was enough to bed in my grumpy beans. My legs felt like lead.

Despite soon turning out of the wind I just couldn’t cheer up! It turned into type 2 fun. In retrospect it was a wonderful ride but at the time I was all for sacking it in and camping by the side of the road.

Having invested in a jar of honey lunch involved a good deal of Mary Poppins. However, it was a time filled with slight dread. I decided lunch was required when I could see the road a hundred meters above me and couldn’t quite face it honey-less. I’m not sure the picture does the mighty hill justice but this was the view from the top:

We had our first experience of a tourist resort. All garish buildings and blaring bars. Olive didn’t enjoy that too much.

On we battled in search of what was meant to be my “haven of peace” – Isla Bonita. I’d read online it was a buzzing community space with people building it up and making it beautiful. Turns out it was closed down a few months ago after it’d turned into a drug den. Disappointing doesn’t quite cover it. I did end up staying there and having a heart to heart with a homeless man. It made my worries sound pretty insignificant.

Today I felt guilty leaving. I distracted myself with the beauty of Aguilas and a long search for a map for the next stretch of the adventure. I think I found my happy beans again too 😊

Cabo de Gata

Canjayar – San Jose

83km

I think I had my attitude a bit wrong today. Started off with a let’s see how many miles I can do mindset. Tried (and failed) pushing up any hills – spinning is a lot easier. Started getting stressed about how slow I was. Turns out you can’t rush Olive when she’s fully laiden.When I eventually calmed down and stopped worrying about mileage it was wonderful. Just the most spectacular scenery I’ve ever seen! It’s like something out of an advert… for cycling adventures.Found food (yay!) and coffee and chilled my beans.

Did a spectacular fail of a navigation of Almería. On my map Almería has two roads out of it to the east. I needed to take the first one, easy right? In real life there are more than two roads out of Almería…My sense of direction is generally pretty good but cities like this do a good job of disorientating me. After getting totally confused I decided to ask Mr Garmin for help. I listened to his advice for about 5minutes then realised he was taking me round in circles. We proceeded to argue about the best way out of Almería for the next half an hour. Me shouting at an inanimate object and Mr Garmin just beeping every 3seconds telling me to u-turn.

We still aren’t friends.When we did make it out it was worth the delay. El Cabo de Gata es bonito! Got blown along by the wind past miles and miles of tomato farms (god only knows why you’d need greenhouses in this heat?). Debated whether or not it was worth taking the detour to San Jose and I am so glad we did!

Not only was it beautiful and was I very nearly tempted to go in the sea (still freezing) but I got spotted as a solo tourer by the lovely Sol and Mark. Chatted about gear and touring and Spain and everything… then got offered a bed for the night! What wonderful, heroic people! And such incredible cyclists by the looks of their strava – they did a 300km Audax last weekend. Incredible.

This is the view from their place. Which has actual beds. And an actual shower. And a washing machine! WahooAs a sidenote not had much success to date with tourist information. I don’t think they’ve woken up after winter yet. Or maybe they just take a full day siesta. Every day.

This was the grand entrance to the tourist information in the Cabo de Gata. Firmly closed.They do have a few entertaining signs around though. I read this one as “don’t eat plants, frogs or pencils”

La Sierra Nevada

La Calahorra – Canjáyar

71km

This is Olive’s excited face watching me pack up camp. Fat lot of help she is.

This is my “what-the-hell-have-I-got-myself-into face on spying the mountains for the first time. I had to call on Julie Andrews “favourite things” to get me up. Not quite my best performance but if you can hear through the wheezing and panting you might be able to catch the tune. Over and over again. The same two lines.

Anyhow we made it. And Olive sang all the way down the other side. That famous brake squeal melody we all know and love.

The rest of the day was focused around searching for food. Largely unsuccessfully.

I did find a sandwich and coffee in a charming wee mountain village that looked like it had grown out of the rock there. And I managed to order all in Spanish too! The highlight was that it came with salt containing “anti-cacking agent”. I kid you not.

The problem is that either these villages are good at hiding their corner shops or they don’t exist. I scoured the streets of many a village using my “dondé está una tienda?” Over and over to no avail. Ended up using my emergency cous cous (I might start carrying some around all the time, never know when it could come in handy – night shifts, second breakfast, waiting for a bus, etc).

Let’s hope I’m more successful tomorrow!

Oh nearly forgot my slightly less successful Spanish attempt. Stopped to take a picture in Bayárcal (AKA Barclaycard for simplicity of pronunciation). Two gents clearly trying to find out where I’d come from ended up doing a photo shoot for me. I think the conversation kept coming back to Stonehenge (?) but honestly have no idea what they were saying.

Day 3: Settling in

Granada – La Calahorra

83km

I’d been kind of terrified about the prospect of a big cycle trip before I set off. Turns out it’s not that dissimilar from cycling at home.

Today built on my vast experience of 2 days touring: 1. rain and 2. hills. Today it rained up the hills… or at least until we hit the snowline.

Nevertheless we battled onwards and upwards. Felt like I was upheld my reputation as a crazy woman by wearing shorts in the snow. It just made me feel epic.

I think Olive reached her highest peak to date:

I wish it had been nicer so I could have taken more photos, the scenery was spectacular. It was like a geology lesson but with only the pictures (i.e. not a very good lesson but quite entertaining). The sun did make a guest appearance but maybe not enough of one to merit my rush for suncream. If there’s one way to make the sun hide away it’s to crack out the suncream!

I think the only reason I was a happy bean today was because of my fantastic warmshowers experience. Victor has set the bar pretty high! I’m planning on following his advice and going over the mountain pass tomorrow… I think.

I never knew a bed and warm shower could go so far! Oh and fantastic food. Which I tried to copy this evening and ended up with a pan of burnt garlic. Maybe I should build up to it.

If you head away from the coast you find hills

Lobres – Granada

88.88km

I imagine being a pensioner in Lobres is pretty easy. The 2 men taking their 50m constitutional again and again, watching me eat breakfast, seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Discovered the (probably quite obvious) magic of putting chocolate raisins in porridge and ending up with chocolate porridge. Love magic like that.

The forecast thunderstorms didn’t seem to be anywhere to be seen so we set off in search of Granada. The initial 10km was shear joy. Mild incline but the most spectacular scenery!

It reminded me of cheddar gorge (yes I know that picture doesn’t look anything like it, just imagine the next bit around the corner). Stunning.

Enjoying the scenery so much I decided to take the scenic route. Who knew you could go uphill for so long? Took the welcome break of a temporary road closure half way up as a bike race passed (god help them racing those hills!). It just kept going up!

The adventure gods were punishing me for my scenic route. Got a bleeding headwind on the downhill! The worst kind of evil.

Update on Spanish cycling infrastructure – quiet roads, beautiful tarmac and regular “give cyclists space” signs all helped me love it. Even if it was uphill all day.

Arrived in Granada and to the wonderful Victor’s beautiful home. I didn’t realise “warmshowers” could mean so much more than a shower. Shared the most wonderful meal with Victor and his friends.

Yes I know maybe I’m overusing the word wonderful but I was just so happy to be fed!