Spanish Figary & Other Stories

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OP
OP
HobbesOnTour
Location
España
Day 28 Sunday April 24

Camping on the coast…… again!

Oh! I nearly forgot! Puerto de Santa Maria has a beach! ^_^ It's a bit cool, especially with the wind, to be enjoyed in the traditional ways but it still works like a happy pill on me


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My last real hope of visiting Cadiz was blown away quite literally. No ferry for me today! I set off with a route similar to yesterday's that I hoped would give me the opportunity to find a way to Cadiz but would get me back to the coast anyways. Once on the coast I could double back to Cadiz if I was feeling it by following the last of EV 8.

Rolling through the marshlands......
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It was another late departure, partly from waiting to see what way the wind was blowing, literally, and partly because I'm the laziest bike tourist!
I passed through the familiar wetlands and the happy chickens and had lunch sitting on the wall of Puerto Real accompanied by some rich sea aromas!

Not bad cycling at all!
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I went on, stopping now and then to get my bearings and checking for alternative routes into Cadiz. I thought I may have found a bike path but when push came to shove I just wasn't trusting it. I was feeling conflicted. An ancient port city - I was imagining Toledo with the ocean and boats - would be right up my alley but yesterday had flummoxed me and I had visions of getting stuck or having to wildcamp within range of big motorways. Perhaps on the far side I can double back on the EV 8 route. If not, there'll be another time.

Heading inland and even though I'm losing the sea I really don't have any cause to complain....
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I continued on heading inland and away from the sea, pleasant scenery if not spectacular and away from the worst of the wind. It was rural, agricultural and very, very quiet.

I passed through Chiclana de la Frontera and paused for another bite to eat on a bench doing my best to avoid the worst of the sun. At 5 pm it was waking up and getting busy but has a large road on stilts running through it. I found it hard to settle. This is where I met EV 8 but Cadiz barely featured in my thoughts. Perhaps it was the "busyness" after a day of rural solitude but I gave no thoughts to turning back and following the EV route in. There'll be another time.
I should add that for anyone considering Cadiz on a bike not to be put off by my experience. My understanding is that heading in on the EV8 is straightforward and that there are good cyclable routes from the bigger places around. My "mistake" - and I don't see it as that - was to use CT in the "all surfaces" option. I am blessed with the gift of time and my objective is more to explore and less to arrive.

Not fantastic ..... but perfectly adequate! Ha! How spoilt am I? ^_^ The idea that I'd be meeting up with the sea later had me grinning like a loon
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I rejoined the coast at Roche early in the evening, skimming through the town to reconnect with the sea and kept my eyes open for wildcamping options. Invariably where there are campervans there are specific no camping signs using a tent symbol. These are annoying me. I can understand a campervan being ignored on the basis that it has inbuilt toilet facilities but a lot of vans are very basic converts and don't seem to have much more than a wooden frame supporting a mattress in the back - in other words about as well equipped with a bathroom as myself. They appear to be unmolested by the authorities but I wasn't feeling confident that I would receive the same lack of attention.

In more isolated spots It's difficult to pick out where people might be wandering later - the locals do like to exercise late in the evening, often with dogs. I know that other bike tourists have camped on beaches but I also know that wildcamping is illegal in Spain and I can't help but feel that in tourist areas like this enforcement will be stricter.
Situations like this are where I feel the lack of a companion. There's a security in numbers and we could talk ourselves into it.

There's a fair whack of diversity and colour around......
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And sometimes a glimpse of the Atlantic
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Spain is really good for supplying information boards! I learned that I was right under the flightpath of some birds I do not know. Have a read of the text. It's interesting
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Passing a campground I pulled in. It was friendly, had a decent shop so I pitched up, cooked dinner then went for a wander on the beach as the sun sank once again into the ocean. There's just something about that scene that is magical to me. If I lived here would it become "normal", taken for granted?

Not the sexiest or architecturally impressive building ...... but it's a lighthouse!
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There's a whole lot to be said for falling asleep to the sound of the ocean.

I "lost" a load of time here. Something about the waves bashing the wall and all the boats calmly sitting, protected behind.
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Day 28 Sunday April 24
El Puerto de Santa Maria to near Roche 55 km Total KM 1244
Min Meters -12 Max Meters 36
Total Climb 254, Total Descent 248
Min Temp 16 Max Temp 35 Ave Temp 27

CycleTravel Here:

Strava Here

The Towns Along the Way
Puerto Real
Chiclana de la Frontera
 
OP
OP
HobbesOnTour
Location
España
Day 29 Mon April 25

The day of chats!

I had a wonderful chat with a German lady this morning in the campground. Originally from East Germany she met and fell in love with a Colombian in the early 80's. When his time was up and he had to leave she followed him - no easy task requiring special permission and accepting the fact that she could never (that's right, NEVER) return.

I couldn't comprehend that. From grey, dull East Germany to Colombia - without a word of Spanish!!

Apparently there were some serious adjustments required, a lot of poverty and tough times but she seemed to make good.
After the wall came down she was finally able to return to visit and reclaimed her German citizenship.

I can tap that out in a few paragraphs but to hear the story (and I'm a sucker for a good love story) with her body language and inflection just adding to the detail it was a real treat.

She now lives in Germany (in a new relationship), her son happy in Colombia, a daughter settled in Germany but what a story! She regrets not a thing, travelled all over Colombia and worked bloody hard to overcome so many obstacles.

The EV 8 directed me away from the shore. CT suggested a shore route. Even if it wasn't going to work out this view was worth the little detour




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I have no idea what her (first) husband was doing in East Germany from Colombia at that time but for a young woman, hell, for anyone, to follow their heart like that, knowing that they could never go "home", is .... inspirational? I don't know. Words fail me. There's bravery, determination, and bucketloads of other words to describe that. And I got to meet that lovely lady in a campground in Spain.

Inspired I was, by her courage to head off to the other side of the world so I headed back to the water to pick up a route along the ocean.
It was not quite what I was expecting - but it was Fan-Bloody-Tastic!

I'd opted against the EV 8 route because CT suggested a rougher option along the sea. What I didn't see on the map was that it was alongside the sea alright. On a cliff!
I'd a rough plan to head for Tarifa all of about 70 km away (and that was already looking doubtful after my amazing morning) and that didn't survive my encounter with the cliff road ^_^

But, Man, did it work out! I love this shot! When I'm old, feeble, dribbling, scared of my own shadow I'm going to look at this photo and I just hope I'll be able to remember that it was me who rode it!
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In truth, it wasn't too long, maybe about 5 km but for pure excitement and beauty it was out of this world! The path was treacherous but the view of the amazing blue sea was stunning. There are times on a bike when I really feel alive, there's an added awareness of every single thing and this was one of those times.

Fan-Feckin'-Tastic!

I eventually rejoined a road and the day rolled along with a kind of pattern. There was an urban area with beaches, well organised with good facilities and accessible to all then a wilderness until I reached the next urban area.

Ha! This is almost boring in comparison .-) Given the choice of following Gizmo and the EV 8 route to get to Tarifa I said "Not today, Gizmo, not today"
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That sounds so boring! It really wasn't!

The "wilderness" was packed with wild flowers blooming and filling the space between me and the ocean with amazing, celebratory colours. Not for a second did I feel hard done by not to be right beside the sea. It was like an announcement that Summer had arrived and it was party time!

This is what I would have been missing!
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Conil de la Frontera is a beautiful, white town and a great spot to stop and eat some lunch on a bench.
(Unusually, the towns held little interest for me today. I have practically no photos. I was at the sea - that's where my interest lay!)

With the wind and the beaches there are a lot of surfers around. One fecker gave me the finger as he deliberately pulled out in his van with boards strapped across the top right in front of me forcing me to jam on the brakes.
I just don't get that. If we'd had some interaction earlier and I'd peed him off I'd understand. But we hadn't. I can only assume it was the bike that made him act like that. I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest he wasn't Spanish. I'd lay money that he was an English speaker. (If not, definitely French! ^_^ ) I consoled myself thinking that no woman would follow him halfway across the world! ^_^

I did take the EV 8 for a little bit - and started to feel a little Brexity - Feck everything with Euro in the name ^_^ (Sorry, Mods!)
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At one stage I stopped at a beachfront place and lingered over a coffee just watching the waves crashing on the beach. It was a trendy, "surfy" kind of place and would be my idea of Hell on a busy summer day but today it was just me, the wind, the waves and a coffee. There are worse ways to pass half an hour.

Mi compañero, Roccado
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So much in my element was I that I ignored Gizmo's beeping telling me to head inland preferring to stay right along the beach. It was slower, for sure, but not a single feck was given. The Touring Gods had set me up with a wonderful morning and I wasn't going to mess it up by following moving pixels on a screen. Today was a day for navigating by gut and feeling. It completely slipped my mind that I was bypassing a Pueblo Más Bonito ( Vejer de la Frontera). Oh well!

Then my really excellent day got even better!

Yep! More flowers! It's my Travelogue and I'll`post what I want! ^_^
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Approaching a lady cyclist stopped outside a store she called out to me in an identifiably Scottish accent and got a bit of a shock when I replied in English. She told me that she wasn't expecting an English response.

I pulled up and we were having a chat but something was bugging me. I knew this woman. But from where?

Then it dawned on me - she was one of the two cyclists in the GCN video on bikepacking Colombia! I'd seen the video and loved how authentic it was so I told her exactly that.

We had a chat about Colombia, about racing in and out. They didn't like the coffee at all! Couldn't get a decent cup! ^_^ The guy in the video (I don't know his name - I'm not a real cyclist!) had a dog chase too! A sausage dog! ^_^ That didn't make the cut to preserve his dignity.

I think she was pretty impressed at my load having had some experience in Colombia so for a laugh we lifted each other's bikes. I cried a little ^_^

It was only later when I was replaying the conversation in my mind that a few things poked me into a bit of Googling.
That was Jenny Graham, the woman who holds the record for the fastest female circumnavigation of the planet on a bike! Dumbass had no idea! ^_^
(In passing she mentioned that she had just finished some final edits on a book which prompted my subsequent Googling. Something to keep an eye out for!)

This woman travels faster than me. Indeed she travels faster than most of us. I haven't checked but I think she still holds the World Record for riding a bike around this crazy planet of ours. Strangely, we had things in common! ^_^
Without knowing who she was or what she had achieved (and she was far too pleasant/modest/generous to mention it) we had a lovely chat. Of course, she's the lucky one because she has a photo of yours truly and they're as rare as hen's teeth ^_^

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My route dragged me away from the beach, but it still remained in sight which was good enough for me.
There were regular bike lanes on the roads so it was pretty much stress free. I passed through Barbate beside the sea and then Zahara de Los Atunes.

Approaching Spanish towns is the best …… but approaching Spanish lighthouses is pretty damn good too! (The less navigationally challenged will understand that this photo was taken looking back on the lighthouse)
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I came across a Campground and called it a day. It was small and quiet but had access to the beach.

I ate to the sounds of waves washing up on the beach and had a beautiful sunset stroll before bed.

What. A. Day!

The sun going down on a great, great day. A playful dog even came over to mess with me. Damn, but I'm the luckiest bike tourist!
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Day 29 Sunday April 25
Near Roche to Zahara de los Atunes 54 km Total KM 1298
Min Meters 14 Max Meters 148
Total Climb 389, Total Descent 375
Min Temp 17 Max Temp 35 Ave Temp 25

CycleTravel Here

Strava Here

The Town along the way
Barbate
 
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OP
OP
HobbesOnTour
Location
España
Day 30 Tues April 26

Third time's a charm!

My setup could never be described as ultralight but it has its advantages. This morning, for example. I brewed up my coffee and then with a full flask meandered down to the beach for my caffeine hit. As locations for a coffee go it's right up there!

Morning Coffee. Nearly every newbie to this bike touring lark is told to watch the weight, go light. Feck that! Moments like this are worth all the weight I carry. Two huge cups of coffee on the beach. Every day should start like this!




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To my right the green hills and whitish cliffs of Trafalgar and two towns stand out all in white, one up, one down. It really is a very pretty sight. (That lighthouse in the photos yesterday is Trafalgar Lighthouse).
In front of me the ocean and nothing but the sound of waves breaking and slipping up the beach.
So calming.
And, of course, the sun on my back.
A few people walked along, a couple of joyful dogs ran along and a lone fisherman cast into the waves.

This is what I was hoping to be seeing for most of the day
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I got to thinking about the advantages of bike travel. Here I am sitting on a beach, my coffee in hand and completely free. The only schedule I have is to be out of the campground before noon (but, honestly, I can't see that being strictly enforced here). I've no bus, train or plane to catch, no reservation to check in for. When I find myself in a pretty perfect place I can take the time to savour, to enjoy. To remember.
It was inevitable that my thoughts turned to Jenny and the fast, long-distance riders and how they travel. It's a pretty broad church this bike touring thing. I'll never get a record, but then again, I have no interest in trying for one. Put me in front of a Monopoly board, or give me some Scrabble letters or set up the Chess pieces and I'll be as competitive as if I was playing for the World Championship. Put me on a bike? Competition is the furthest thing from my mind.

Just one of the many, many fine houses overlooking the ocean. Big walls, big gates, lots of security.....
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So much for an early start! ^_^
I wasn't too bothered about leaving late. I was spoiled for choice for routes today.
There was the main road. Inland. Boring.
There was a road along the coast with a load of climbing and some off-road.
And there was an EV8 that went mainly offroad. I think it's an option and the main EV8 follows the main road.
I took the coastal option and started climbing.

And in all fairness it was a great road. Tough - but great
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It wasn't easy but traffic was light to non-existent and I had the ocean to my right and some amazing houses to my left. If I timed it right I could stop to admire the ocean and get a good nosey at someone's house. So nice was it, I pulled in and made a sandwich, sitting on a wall with the ocean below me and Africa just over there. Oh, yes. Did I mention? Africa is right over there! I can see it clear as day!

A series of S bends nearly finished me off they were so steep but I took heart from the (slowly) approaching summit. Except that at the top I ran out of road!

The view from the first dead end!
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A fence separated me from what looked like another rough track. There was no way through and there was no-one around to ask. All that climbing for nothing.
Being on a loaded bike I couldn't even get into the S bend descent without risk of serious injury, so I hopped off, jammed on the brakes and held on for dear life. Sandals don't give very good grip! Osmand suggested a rough looking path that might link up with the original route but that petered out too. Nothing for it but to head back and go for the off-road option.

First of all, though, I pulled up at a bakery for some fuel and had a pleasant chat with the proprietor. As I was leaving he rummaged around and handed over a pack of yesterday's bread as a gift. I could really get used to this hospitality!

Option Two! Tough going but interesting country
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I was passing all the big houses again, this time on my side and started wondering about the ownership. Were these homes for the super wealthy or weekend getaways for the super, super wealthy? I really hoped they were lived in and not AirBnBs. Such fine houses overlooking Africa really should be lived in. All the time.

I passed the campsite from last night and turned onto some rough roads. Not a sign to be seen to guide me I took heart from other bike tracks and chatted to a few donkeys who looked at me curiously.

Making friends as I head off on a rough, gravel road
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I had five rough, slow but thoroughly enjoyable Kms and then another three very, very rough. In wet weather it would have been impossible. Today it was beautiful.

Getting tougher!
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And tougher.....
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And tougher.......
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To be continued........
 
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OP
OP
HobbesOnTour
Location
España
Day 30 Tues April 26

Third time's a charm! Part II

At a farm I came to a "Private Road" sign and was ready to call it a day. There was no-one at the farm nor any sign of life and crossing a private property sign is not something I'm comfortable with.
A closer inspection, though, led to the discovery of some bike tracks beyond the sign. Faced with 8km of rough stuff to get back - to the start! - I decided to follow them. Osmand suggested a proper road wasn't too far away. It was a lovely long descent on gravel for a couple of Kms until I hit a big, locked gate. That was enough for me!

There's beauty everywhere! I'll admit to a little pride in myself. I was about to start my third attempt at finding a route to Tarifa and I was calm enough to be able to enjoy where I was. There was no "blaming" myself for being in the "wrong" place - how could this place be wrong? Amusement, certainly. I haven't always been so relaxed.


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Back I went working hard to appreciate the country on my second pass. I'm pretty sure the donkeys were grinning at me as I passed them again!

I think it's a sign of how far I've come that this is enjoyable! ^_^
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Now, everything was simpler. A big road inland until I'd get close to the coast later. 5:30 pm and I was, quite literally, back at square one! It's a good thing I'm not trying to break any records! ^_^

This really wasn't so bad! My phone was pumping out a few tunes from my handlebar bag, trying to defeat the wind.
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If the "big road" sounds dull and boring it really wasn't. There was a generous, wide shoulder that was useful because the wind was buffeting me a bit. I put on some music and did my best to fly along. It may not have been fast but after almost 20km of the roughstuff it sure felt like flying! The area was peppered with windmills - never a cyclist's favourite sight - but I'm a bit odd - I like them.

Sometimes the main road can be pretty too!
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It might have been late but there were a few campsites along the road before Tarifa so I wasn't too worried. Back at the coast I pulled off onto a small road that Gizmo suggested would take me along right beside the sea. It did! But following today's theme - only for a little while. When it stopped I had no alternative but to turn around and ride all the way back to rejoin the big road. I was beside the sea - not a feck was given.

I quite like the windmills
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Getting dark now I pulled into the second campground I saw (the first one looked waaaaaaaay too fancy). Unusually, a rather grumpy lady greeted me but after all my false starts and doubling back today I was not going to let myself be dragged down. I turned on my charm and worked hard until she smiled - perhaps at me, but most likely at my Spanish.

Now we're talking!! Heading to the beach! Gizmo tells me I can ride along the shore!
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Oh no I can't! I hit the beach and lost the road. There was no way through. I could set up camp amongst some converted campervans or head back to the road.
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Back to the road it was!
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I had a great little pitch, up high, and a great deal and decided to check out the restaurant that was on the other, ocean-side of the road. I hadn't intended to eat, maybe have a vino tinto to mark the end of a strange day but when I saw the location......

I started the day with a coffee on the beach with Africa just beyond the horizon. I finished the day about two meters from the ocean, a vino tinto in hand and the lights of Africa twinkling at me. Not for the first time I am a bit gobsmacked about just where I can get to on my bike.

This is from my pitch. High above the road, overlooking the sea...... and Africa!
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Day 30 Tuesday April 26
Zahara de los Atunes to near Tarifa 68 km Total KM 1366
Min Meters -19 Max Meters 63
Total Climb 522, Total Descent 497
Min Temp 17 Max Temp 34 Ave Temp 26

CycleTravel Here

Strava Here

The Town along the way

No photos of any towns today!
 
OP
OP
HobbesOnTour
Location
España
Day 31 Wednesday April 27

Tarifa. Heart Stealer

Knowing what I know now about Tarifa, that I didn't know when I arrived I should never have liked the place. It's a surfer's place, drawing them from all over because of the almost ever present wind. With the surfers come a whole lot of trendy, fashionable types and the shops, bars and restaurants to service them. It's not my scene.

But Tarifa is bigger than that.

Tarifa was fabulous!

The edge of town. So far so soso.


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I rode in and my first order of business was to tend to my rear brakes. Back in Colombia I had managed to lose a bolt in my front brakes, "borrowing" one from the back to replace it since I figured that front brakes are the most important ones. Then to replace that one I'd used another bolt from my little bag of spares which was too long, utilising a load of washers but the rough roads yesterday had really loosened it up. Time to get a better replacement bolt.
I stopped at the first bike shop I came across and had the Tarifa experience that could be expected. A very trendy shop, ridiculously expensive bikes and more accessories than I knew existed and a snob behind the counter.
A look of horror on the guy's face as Roccado was wheeled in and we instantly devalued his shop. I wasn't aware that old, trusty MTBs could carry such contagion. Or maybe it was me.
No, no, no, no, nonononononooooooooooo he couldn't help me after barely glancing at my issue. I tried to play the "I'm-on-a-long-journey-and-this-was-the-best-I-could-do-in-Colombia" card but he had already turned away and I was talking to his back.
There's a type of bike shop that I don't like and this one is the perfect example.

At the top of the street after that sign the real Tarifa begins........ I do like a town with a gate!
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Feeling a tad humiliated I headed on towards the centre and built up my nerve at the next bike shop.
This guy already had a customer so I waited patiently but he broke off to help me.
He listened, he looked and said "no problem", explaining to his customer that it would only take a moment. "Looks like you've come a long way?" was a different and very pleasant contrast.
A shorter bolt and I was good to go. No charge! Wouldn't even accept a tip for a beer.

The universe had its equilibrium back!

The Old Town is a maze of meandering narrow streets that sometimes open up into an area like this.....
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The main road into Tarifa climbs a hill and deposits you in front of a gate into the old town. I do like a town that has a gate! Like in Toledo stepping through that gate is stepping into another world. A white world.

I knew that the Moors had conquered Spain. I knew that. And I knew that the Spanish eventually drove them out. (I've read something like that it took the Moors 5 years to subdue Spain and the Spanish over 200 to claim it back once they got their asses into gear) But I'd never really thought about what any of that meant. And the markers left on the place by that kind of history.

And then I arrived in Tarifa.

And even this DumbAss bike tourist "got it".

The old church. Slightly dilapidated, especially around the side. An impressive building with a huge amount of detail. But left of the door, behind the lamppost is an orange tree! ^_^ The world's worst bike tourist is thrilled! ^_^
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The streets, incredibly narrow and twisty and white are just otherworldly. Well, other continently. Pure, white walls, a vivid blue sky above and winding cobbles underfoot simply proclaim different. It's not loud, it's not sudden, it just is. Confidently so.

I've seen hints already in other places - in Córdoba, in Sevilla and in some other places along the road - aromas in the air suggesting a rich dish somewhere. Stepping through the gates of the old town of Tarifa is to sit down at a banquet of strange and exotic foods with a chance to put substance to those aromas.

Up high, in what is/was a fort like structure is this delightful Plaza with municipal buildings. That building in the background with the little turret peeping over the trees is the Library!
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Later, as I was getting ready to ride back to the campground I realised that I was going to be missing the town at night. I could imagine the town at night, the white in lamplight, the warm sea air, the sound of invisible waves.......
I checked out Booking and wasn't surprised to see major organ rates so wandered around on foot. I got a great rate in a decent place and made a reservation for the next night.

I found it easier to approach Tarifa than many did over the years!
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I have no idea what's hitting me so hard.

The weather helps, certainly, there's the sea - actually two of them! - like a love potion for me, there's orange trees that are as amazing to me now as when I first saw them, there's the old buildings that just bring history to life - right there in front of me - there are old, winding, narrow streets that just invite, no demand, exploration. Then there's "normal" life just going on. A perfectly "normal" town for the locals. There's tourists to be sure but not enough to dominate, to make life difficult. They're more of an amusing distraction at times. There's a calmness that has to be felt to be understood.

The Atlantic. My "home" ocean.
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Calmness is probably the most significant characteristic of the place for me. It is just so calm. I have no doubt that a visit in the summer season would be very, very different but now, it seems, like I've landed at the Goldilocks moment. With a calm mind my thoughts are free to wander where they will.

Another little Plaza amongst the maze of streets
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On the way home I hit Lidl and bought the ingredients for one of my favourite Spanish meals. Back at the campground I cooked up some chorizo in cider, served with tortilla de patata and crispy bread and washed down with a lovely, cheap vino tinto from a carton :-)

Normally when I talk about old buildings blending with the new I don't mean in a military context!
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Maybe it's sinful but I was unbelievably pleased with myself and so content.

The influence of Africa is everywhere.
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Day 31 Wednesday April 27
near Tarifa to near Tarifa via Tarifa 28 km Total KM 1394
Min Meters 0 Max Meters 66
Total Climb 252, Total Descent 228
Min Temp 20 Max Temp 35 Ave Temp 26

CycleTravel Here

Strava Here

Tarifa
 
OP
OP
HobbesOnTour
Location
España
Day 32 Thursday April 28

The Streets of Tarifa

Heading out to the most southerly point of Mainland Europe! Unfortunately, that island is fenced off! Oh! I nearly forgot! That's the Atlantic on the right and the Med on the left! ^_^


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That's the old town wall on the left. Walking in history, I am
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Most of the buildings are white and the streets can be deliciously cool.
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Not all the buildings are white, though
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There's a myriad of streets and little spaces. Completely disorienting, but there's no rush
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Not all the streets are so narrow but all of them are very calm. The wider streets have the advantage of more trees
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A couple of narrow streets that underline my luck. Surf bar? No thanks! Panama Cocktails and drinks?? Hell no!!^_^
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Making the streets even narrower! What these pictures can't convey is the noise. Sure, there was the odd putter of a far off moped or the hum of an airco unit but the main sound is a chorus of birds singing and chattering
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It's not exactly flat! Looking down and then looking up!
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I could wander the streets for hours (and I did) then later repeat the process in the warm night.
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OP
OP
HobbesOnTour
Location
España
Day 32 Thursday April 28

The Art of Tarifa

Some of the art, to me at least, was more natural in format


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A prettier way of telling people about the Atlantic, the Med and the south of Europe!
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Feet, what do I need them for if I have wings to fly. Frida Kahlo is still influencing my journey
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Fishing is big business and there are quite a few representations of fish around. I call this one "Jonah on a scooter" ^_^
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A pictorial representation of what's important. Olives and fishing. And donkeys! (The rocks might signify something but I don't know)
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Every traveller has a different flame. Welcome to the bonfire! Tarifa
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I haven't a clue.......
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And back to Mother Nature......
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Day 32 Thursday April 28

A closer look at Tarifa

Tarifa, for anyone who doesn't know (and is the reason for me being here) is the southernmost point of mainland Spain and Europe. It's also where the Atlantic meets the Mediterranean. An ocean and a sea! No wonder I liked it! A coast to coast can be done in seconds. Or on foot!
Unfortunately, the feckers have the actual last bit of land fenced off for security reasons so my plan to stand on the very last point of Europe was stymied.

Since I never made it to Ushuaia I thought I'd mark the southernmost point of Europe in Willie's T-shirt. To do that I offered to photograph a couple and then asked them to reciprocate which set off a chain reaction of everyone asking everyone else to take photos. We humans can be funny creatures waiting for someone to break the ice.
(And yes! I am a little "fofo". That's one of the reasons Spain is so good! ^_^)



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It came as quite a shock to me just how close Africa is here. Now, I know Africa is close but never having been here this was one of my "reality meets concept" moments and it struck me deeply.
Africa kept catching my eye - how often do we get to write something like that?
I wouldn't be much of a bike tourist if the notion of crossing that little bit of water didn't occur to me and I examined it as I walked around. I was a bit surprised at myself.

The top picture is a couple of local guys fishing from the rocks while the bottom photo is looking across at Africa*. There's something epic about being in a place so far from "home" and looking at another continent that is even further from home. And I got here on my bike!
At the same time, there is something so normal, so everyday and familiar about fishing.
Both scenes charmed me in ways can't begin to describe.

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* The mountains rising up are the Atlas mountains. I know these from my childhood and a huge interest in Greek mythology. That's where Hercules was tricked into holding up the sky. And where he returned the favour. To arrive within range of these mountains that span the real and fantasy world -on a bike! - was linking up past and present, fantasy and reality.

My sensible head was saying that Africa isn't the place to go "on spec" without a degree of planning. The bike needs a serious overhaul before heading off on another figary into the unknown.
Most interestingly, I'm enjoying feeling "at home". There's an urge to put down roots for a while.
Unusually for me, I found myself looking at ferries and ships and boats of all sizes and realised that I had little urge to climb aboard and go explore.

Loads and loads of boats to amuse the worst bike tourist in the world! ^_^^_^ There were two distinct groups - the blues and the reds
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Spain, so far, has been wonderful. I am captivated. What I'm doing is wandering around looking for a place to set up home for a while. This aimless wandering is my research. Uncluttered by facts and figures, statistics and trends I'm looking for places that speak to me.
When I find the right place, the plan is to head north to check in with people I haven't seen in years before returning. To get north and avoid foul weather I'd best be leaving Spain no later than August.
"Discovering" Toledo, then Sevilla and now, especially, Tarifa, has taught me that I know nothing. Suddenly the idea of a couple of months on the road heading north seems like something of a waste. It seems like time better spent exploring here.
Africa is out for the time being, but, I think, so is a long journey north.

Had I not taken the main road up to the town gate I could have veered off onto a bike path and cycled along the beach. The Atlantic beach. In Tarifa we have a choice of beaches! ^_^
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I spent a lot of time at the sea - the Mediterranean - because the waves on the rocks was a musical poetry. And I could see Africa.


Town getting a little livelier. All the oranges!!!
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I went out for dinner later and had one of those experiences that just emphasised that I was alone. Great food but lonely.

From the old town looking out at how I approached
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Tarifa is one of the most perfect places I think I have ever visited. I may never go back for fear of shattering a wonderful image. I think I was blessedly lucky in Tarifa. The foreign tourist contingent was tiny so I got to see the town as close to normal as it gets, I reckon.

It's not totally perfect. Despite a location beside the ocean this development was very run down and looked far less prosperous than the rest of the town. Having said that, Tarifa has a lot less dilapidated and ruined buildings than most places, partly explained by the massive price of property.
And below is a rooftop swimming pool. Yeeeeeeuuuuucccccck!

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However, the last little while has been interesting. Failing to get to Cadiz, the day of the three routes (after two dead ends) the fortuitous meeting with a World Record Holder, the wonderful story from the German lady. Even the roadside chickens! And all without any kind of a plan. Hell! I thought I was going to be in Tarifa, what? two or three days ago? I'm reminded of a great line from Ray Wylie Hubbard "The days I keep my gratitude higher than my expectations I have really good days". I have zero expectations at the moment and every day so many things to be grateful for. I know there's not many people who can travel like this but I highly recommend it.

I'm going to finish with this. There's oodles of history. Great restaurants and bars. Beaches. It's a surfing hotspot. Whale watching tours. Beautiful people.
But the best part of the town? This.
It's the local library. What a place to read!

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And the map so far.......

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Day 33 Friday April 29

Up, up and away!

Today was the day! Today I turned into the mountains! In all honesty it's hard to cycle in Spain without encountering them but I'd been doing a pretty good job so far ^_^ After the relative flatness of my Spanish sojourn so far I was actually looking forward to them - words I never thought I'd type ^_^

Almería is still on my mind and the most straightforward way is to follow the coast. That means passing through places like Marbella and Malaga, places I know nothing about but that set off alarm bells in my head. Plus, from what I recall reading, the coast road is busy. There's a load of mountains behind me and I haven't been in the mountains for a while. Mountains it is!

I was working hard from the off but the Touring Gods were doing their best to distract me. What a great bridge! And windmills! I do like my windmills!


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I ate breakfast in a quirky, trendy kind of a place that because it was so quiet was charming, packed up and started climbing. Yep! It was pretty much uphill from the old Town gates. I passed the Lidl - quite possibly the Lidl with the best view anywhere and continued on up. The road was decent, if lacking a shoulder, and weaved its way upwards, the blue Med on my right, rolling hills with windmills to my left. "Wind turbines" is probably the correct term but windmills are more romantic!

I had a mild hangover after my delicious vino Tinto last night, a dull ache in my head and a slightly dry mouth. The effort of climbing would increase the headache and add a bit of nausea to the ensemble. I must be getting old!

It was windy, though! A strong crosswind was giving me a good going over and at one stage, slowly, very slowly, blew me into the crash barrier. Yep! A bit like a powerless, rudderless oil tanker I slowly drifted across until impact. And I watched myself do it, helpless to stop myself ^_^I took that as a sign to soak up the view of the delicious blue sea already well below me.

There's always a tree!
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My mind wandered back to the German girl in Sevilla with the intense dislike of hills and mountains. I couldn't (and still can't) understand it. Perhaps some hills killed all the inhabitants of her village and she was the lone survivor.

I can understand not liking hills and the effort and process of climbing but I can't follow through to the conclusion of actively avoiding them. After a few days in the mountains it's always great to fly along in the flat, see the kms ticking over and feel the satisfaction of covering large distances by my own power but...... that feeling always wears off!

Here, blown up against a barrier might not be the best advertisement for hill climbing on a loaded bike but (hangover excepted) it just feels great! And that view!!

I was getting further and further from the sea and, surprisingly, I wasn't too bothered.
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I hit the peak at the huge height of 340 meters! ^_^
I don't mean to sound like a braggart but that is such a small number! A few months ago I could stick a 3 in front and I still would have more meters to climb!
Because this is Spain there was a roadside restaurant a little further along with great view so I pulled in to rest and soak and have a little food.
The girl who took my order was very calm and pleasant despite an older lady being frazzled and stressed. She made my coffee and told me she'd find me outside when my sandwich was ready - because it was windy everyone else stayed indoors.

Outside, I was reminded of the fact that we're all wired very, very differently.
"What was the worst thing that happened to you? ", was the question from a Swedish chap who had made the mistake of asking me how far I had cycled.
That threw me. I get all kinds of comments and questions, sometimes very direct and personal but I've never had that one. At least not that directly.

What was the worst thing to have happened to me?
Dogs in the US very nearly had me stopping and considering alternative means of travel.
Covid turned the world on its head and completely changed my plans.
I was robbed twice on the journey.
I lost access to all my online stuff as a result of the second robbery.
I got lost and stranded on a Colombian mountain, rescued by Cowboys.
I got bitten by a dog and had to get rabies shots as I cycled along.
My frame broke. Well, that sounds dramatic - the part that connects my rack to the frame broke.

I scanned through all the "bad things" that happened - it didn't take all that long - and settled on the robberies for the simple reason that losing Google (and others) is still causing problems so it's not possible to say if that's the worst.

His eyes lit up in much the same way, I imagine, as Archimedes' did in that bath. I had just given him confirmation that travel in that part of the world was dangerous and not to be done. Himself and his wife/girlfriend had driven down (from Sweden!) but he would never consider travelling "over there". It was said with such vehemence and disdain that I was shocked.

Then I was mad! At him, but most especially at myself. I rabbited on about how great the whole experience was but to no avail. He had the nugget of evidence that he'd hang on to no matter how big a mountain I built that contradicted that teeny tiny nugget.
(For the record, I'd go back to Colombia in the morning - but I'd avoid Ipiales).

Bah!

Along the coast and visible from the road was Gibraltar, a place I have no interest in visiting. I followed the road inland and skirted the large and busy town of Algeciras. The little bits that I saw were interesting, narrow streets with even narrower side streets but I didn't explore. The traffic in this region was heavy and I didn't want that.

Gibraltar. The Rock Of.
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CT read my mind and whisked me out into the countryside. There was a fair bit of traffic on a smaller road than earlier but everyone was respectful and it was very pleasant. The worst of the climbing was over so I could roll along easily and admire the "housing stock".
It was traditional in style, very artesenal, and occupied just about every pole, pylon and unused chimney! Storks had built their homes every where!
Now, I've been seeing their nests almost since I left Madrid but this was a new level of density! I was utterly charmed!
That wasn't the only wildlife. Paused at a little río I was delighted to find some turtles swimming about! This was great!

Local housing stock...... and a couple of the locals
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A little later, on quieter roads, I came to a type of recreation area which was also a terminus for hiking and MTB routes. Decked out with picnic tables and information boards giving routes, elevation, rules and tips as well as lots of shade I pulled up and made my lunch and read my book. Bliss!

Back on the road I soon linked up with the official EV route and there was no mistaking this! Proper signs, proper lanes and often segregated it was pretty much perfect. So much so that I relaxed completely which was a mistake. Spying a cyclist heading towards me, well actually, an old guy on an old MTB, I didn't pay too much attention. Only some instinctive reaction stopped me crashing into him when he suddenly wobbled over in front of me. Drunk as a Lord he was! Pisht as a coot! On a segregated cycle lane protected by a crash barrier from real "traffic" he was really only a danger to himself. I wished him a good journey and continued on chuckling happily to myself. What would it be like to be that drunk on my loaded bike? ^_^ And, in reflection of my ever increasing age - what would the hangover be like? :-)

I just saw the very edges of Algericas but they happened to include this aquaduct. Spain - old things are everywhere!
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I arrived into the town of Castellar de la Frontera to discover a Fiesta was taking place!
Well, to be precise, that a Fiesta would be taking place later. I became quite excited!
There were some funfair type amusements and a few kiosks open selling sweet things and drinks. Clearly Flamenco was a feature of this Fiesta and quite a few ladies were already out and about and I have to say that those Flamenco dresses, as well as being very colourful are very flattering!

I wandered around and tried (and failed) to find a Camper van area that some apps said existed. Then I checked Booking - eye watering. I quite fancied hanging around to see the Fiesta and some more of the Flamenco ladies but I wasn't too keen on stealth camping when people could be wandering around until late (or very early) drunk.
This town was also on my list of Pueblos Más Bonitos (although I now think that it refers to the village around the castle the town is named for several kms away and up a bloody big hill.)

With no obvious place to pitch a tent I reluctantly set off again my eyes scanning for various likely spots to camp but I saw nothing.

EV 8 on the way to Castellar de la Frontera. Perfect for drunken cyclists! ^_^ What does it say about me that I was happy to leave it after CdlF?
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By now I was on a chipseal two laner, not terribly busy but quite rough and noisy riding through a long line of trees in the evening sun. It's the wrong time of year but there was a wonderful rusty glow to the foliage accented by the setting sun, It was really very calming and pleasant.

As is the way with such things though, I met two bad drivers in quick succession. A Range Rover blasted me with the horn and passed way too close as I cycled along avoiding the rubble and jumble at the road's margin. I had just recovered my composure when a guy overtaking a car came at me head on while looking at his lap. This kind of behaviour is most unusual in Spain and I couldn't help but link the two incidents to the fiesta back down the road.

Leaving the EV8 and striking out on my own.....
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Turning off the main road I climbed up to the town of Jimena de la Frontera, my destination for the night. There's a campground on the far side of town but to get to it I first had to get through the town. Over the town would be more accurate! This was South American steep! This was get-off-and-push steep! But glorious!

Getting darker as the sun goes down but look at that vegetation!
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The Plaza was occupied by people sitting and chatting and kids playing. It didn't have much - except for various fabulous view! A little park was in steps that had an aura of calm. I stopped, wandered in and very nearly didn't come out! The sun was very low, darkness was falling, I didn't know exactly where the camp ground was but not a feck was given. I sat down and just was.

I reluctantly left and got through the rest of the town - narrow cobbled streets - and found the campsite. Friendly certainly but very basic. The pitches were stoney and sloped. Bathrooms left a lot to be desired. Kids were running riot all over the place and some of the more long term guests were blasting music.

The advantage of a high town - great views!
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I pitched up, showered (listening to a group of kids trying to break into a store room. I doubted their desire to get their hands on the cleaning materials and do the deep clean the place needed) and set about making dinner, glad of my chair. A couple came with their car to be my neighbours and the noise they made unpacking and building a tent was just unbelievable. Then they got into their tent and made even more noise. Not the kind of noise that I want to be hearing ^_^

I went to bed and thought back on the day, thinking that sometimes the ending doesn't do the day justice.


Day 33 Friday April 29
Tarifa to Jimena de la Frontera 73 km Total KM 1467
Min Meters 15 Max Meters 340
Total Climb 936, Total Descent 874
Min Temp 17 Max Temp 36 Ave Temp 26

CycleTravel Here

Strava Here


The Towns Along the Way

Algeciras

Castellar de la Frontera

Jimena de la Frontera
 
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Saturday April 30

Introducing myself to Spanish Mountain towns

Jimena de la Frontera was interesting enough to consider a day off to explore but the campsite was such a let down I decided to move on after my coffee. The kids were running so wild it's the first campground I would have been uneasy leaving my stuff.
I think Sunday & Monday may be public holidays so I need to do a bit of shopping. I loaded up, hit town, parked the bike and took a wander.

It's a different world!

Mainly white buildings, incredibly steep streets (sometimes a stairs links one level to the next) and a veritable maze. I lost the bike for a good 15 minutes and started to get a bit nervous since I couldn't be sure where exactly I had parked it. Intrepid, continent crossing bike tourist gets stuck in Spain - for the second time! :laugh:

You gotta love Spanish Towns! They've got everything ..... and a cherry castle on top! A nicer campsite and I could have stayed... Less honest citizens and I might have had to!


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I found a little supermarket that had Heinz beans! I haven't had beans since I don't know when! (México, actually!) There's a whole lot of climbing today so..... The beans went in the basket! ^_^

No sea today for the first time in a while..... The Touring Gods compensated
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Finding ciggies was the challenge and I failed. After a good explore and wander I descended out of the town and instead of taking a left I turned right to hit Los Ángeles! It's a different town (village) but in reality is a part of Jimena de la Frontera. It just happens to be livelier because it's on the main road. I found a little café that was bustling with life, had a cigarette machine and a very pleasant waitress.

It's not exactly easy cycling but something is pulling me along.....
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Charmed by the place I topped up my caffeine and watched.

First of all, the old boys were playing dominoes - very loudly on a glass table. I never knew dominoes was such a physical, energetic sport! These guys were really putting their shoulders into it when they placed (smashed is probably more accurate) their dominoes down. As many guys were watching as playing!
The waitress was chatting and teasing them all, watching the game and commenting as appropriate.
A man came in with his young kids and they too got special attention from the waitress, a bit of time spent on her hunkers chatting to the little people. For the couple eating with their in-laws it was a little more formal but just as personal.
I enjoy watching someone so much in control and understanding instinctively, it seems, that there's more to the job than just dropping drinks.

It was strange, though. Jimena de la Frontera was lovely and charming but all the life was in Los Ángeles.

That's someone's front garden!
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I set off on big roads but they were quiet. I was out in the country and thoroughly enjoying myself. My day today wouldn't be long but it would be high. Slow and steady the way to go to Ronda.

San Pablo de Buceite was my first town. A wonderful, teeny, tiny town! It was beautiful. It was old. It was pristine and very neat and tidy. It was another world!
There were very few people out and about so I felt like I had it all to myself. There were lots and lots of trees, all seemingly home to songbirds and they were singing for me!
What a glorious little place!

A bizarre collection of cacti on the road side.
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Back on the road there were a lot of motorbikes - it is Saturday. There's a lot of motorbikes in Spain and a lot of people tour on them. I passed a road sign specifically for motorbikers warning them about speed with the reminder of how many had been killed on this road in the past few years.

It was hot and sunny but the Touring Gods were laying on a slight breeze for me. The views weren't epic but they were interesting and very attractive. Gentle climbing was the order of the day and as I gained height and perspective I could see other white towns dotted on far away mountainsides, little odd shapes of white peppered amongst the rich green. It really was like looking at little worlds in a foreign, green galaxy.

With height comes the views. There's a wildness to the land, a suggestion of latent power.
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Gaucín would be the next town and I passed the town sign long, long before I reached the place. In fact, I stopped to eat at a nice viewing spot because I realised I wasn't going to be able to reach it on an empty stomach. As I munched on my simple tortillas I was amused to see two unladen e-bikers come up behind me. He was complaining a lot for which I had no sympathy - I managed the climb and I'm carrying a full load. It was only when they set off again that I noticed his back tyre was as flat as a pancake! I called out to warn him but he didn't seem to care!

While the views are off to my right regular rocky outcrops or even cliffs dominate the left. It reminds me of Cowboy Country. I like Cowboy Country.
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Then a cowboy came along trotting on his horse! Perhaps he's employed by the local tourist board to create atmosphere - in which case it's money well spent! Mountains and now a Cowboy? I'm sold!

In temperatures well into the thirties (Celcius, Willie!!) I am highly amused by the snow warning!
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Hunger sated, entertainment provided it was time to appreciate the view. And what a view! It wasn't epic but as I turned my head around it had everything!
To my left as I looked along the road the land rose to a craggy, rocky peak to remind me that I'm up high. To my right I was overlooking a tree filled valley that was dominated by more peaks. And in between the trees and the peaks little white outposts of civilisation. It's unusual to see towns seem so insignificant but there's no doubting the subtle power of Mother Nature. These days with excellent roads and combustion engines life is relatively easy. 100 years ago? I'm not so sure.

On a Spring Day in the sunshine on my figary in Spain this is some very pretty country. To live here 100 years ago? Challenging
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I set off into Gaucín with Ryan Bingham playing "Country Roads", one of those times that the few songs on my phone matches the environment and my mood perfectly.

Gaucín. Is there a country that does the approached to towns any better than Spain?
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Ryan Bingham Country Roads


View: https://youtu.be/SbsBg_0lgmI




To Be Continued......
 
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Saturday April 30

Gaucín

Indulge me as I try to explain the start of a love affair.....


An unusual church design


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Space is at a premium so the Plaza, here directly outside the church, doubles up as a playground. But ....What. A. View!
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The only flaw in this town that I detected is that the seats have their backs to the view!


Not quite "Coronation Street" chimneys and roofs! For a place so densely packed with buildings it is very, very quiet.
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Streets don't just go left or right but up or down! Exploring in three dimensions! ^_^ No wonder I'm lost most of the time
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There's a fountain. A big one. Many of these towns have more than one. Fresh, tasty mountain water. At one time these would have been the centre of life in these places and sometimes still are, people often preferring this water to the piped stuff.
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There are always trees, usually well manicured. They bring a surprising amount of life and colour. The bigger ones are often home to birds who are happy to sing and chatter to the wanderer
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Rounding a bend I never know what I'm going to see. Also, it's not unusual for big rocks to be a part of the town
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There really isn't much in the way of services in these towns. And clearly I'm not the only one to get lost!
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A little out of town there is a lay-by and Mirador - viewing point. As well as bins (lots of them), picnic benches there is usually something like this. Beauty explaining beauty.
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I didn't realise it but today was the start of my love affair with Spanish Mountain Towns
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Saturday April 30

Introducing myself to Spanish Mountain towns Part II

Gaucín must mean " Wow! " in Spanish! More white buildings, more incredibly steep streets but more height meant some epic views.
There is a teeny tiny Plaza (or more accurately, a corner) beside the little church with a kid's playground - and what a place to play!
I parked up and lost myself wandering around. There seemed to be no one else out. Perhaps in a less bright town (everything here seems to be white) and on a cloudy day that would seem sinister but with blue skies, a golden sun and white everywhere it doesn't take a lot to imagine I'm in the clouds.

Layers of mountains..... and way, way, way over there a white town snuggled in amongst the greens


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These towns are mazes - and it's not just my lack of a sense of direction. There are signs that show "salida", or exit, for unfortunates like myself. One-way systems dominate - the streets are too narrow for passing but I wouldn't want to drive on such steep, twisty streets. In fact, there are car parks at the edge of town, not for tourists as I understand, but for the locals. There is just no place to park.
I find it hard to describe just how interesting and charming I found Gaucín. Unbelievably quiet (already after 5 pm) it never got going while I was wandering around. Unlike earlier towns I didn't feel spooked by the lack of people - in fact I quite enjoyed it.
A thoroughly pleasant surprise of a town.

This is wild country
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There's a lay-by with a viewing point on the far side of town so, of course, I had to stop there as well. Then there was more climbing and if I wasn't enjoying myself so much I'd have been getting worried about the lowering sun. Instead, I found myself stopping regularly just to savour the whole experience.

The Mighty Roccado ..... and a Mountain Town
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I reached the town of Algatocín and faced a bit of a dilemma. This was another mountain town and I didn't have time to explore it now. To continue on to Ronda would leave it behind, unexplored. That felt like a shame. However, I could turn off here, drop a whole lot of the meters I'd gained and camp at the bottom of the mountain. Tomorrow I'd climb back up but I'd have lots of time to explore.

Sometimes the country has an aura......
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It says a lot about how much these towns speak to me that that's exactly what I did! I turned off and had a steep (uh oh!) drop on a fantastically quiet road through cork trees full of history and character until I hit a river at the bottom and pulled into a very rural but friendly campsite.

Now, months later, I'm finding it hard to believe I did that! That is so unlike lazy me to willingly lose all those meters and have to regain them in the morning. It's clear from my notes that I was enjoying myself immensely and didn't want to miss a thing.

That's Benarrabá down there. As well as the towns the road takes me past there are other ones, usually below me.
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A ginormous shepherd growled and barked at me but a bit of patience and we became friends. A steep (what else in these parts!) push up to my pitch and then a hot shower. Another cyclist was there, a Danish chap who was straight over for a chat. It's good to talk!

The sinking sun adds to rather than diminishes the scene. And that's my road down there!
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Oh dear! All he wanted to talk about was Covid. I don't want to talk about Covid! There's far more interesting things to talk about. Keen to preserve my food (because of the public holiday and small towns) I suggested we grab a beer in the restaurant beside the campsite but he had just eaten there and didn't recommend it. That's being kind. He was suggesting a long, lingering death if I ate there. Faced with a bad restaurant or cooking something up and talking to the Dane I opted to take my chances in the restaurant. I'd liked the look of it as I had passed it and I rate picking out good places to eat as just about my only useful skill.

Ha! I was supposed to be in Ronda this evening! Not only am I not there, I'm no longer even on the road to get there. Not a single, solitary feck was given!
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I still got it! It was fabulous! Informal, yes, the boss man smoking behind the bar*, yes, but the food was great, cheap, authentic and deliciously tasty and the company was interesting too. I really enjoyed myself!

* That may sound horrific to some but in his defence the restaurant was open on two sides. And he was a very pleasant, smiley chap.

Algatocin. Too good to rush past on the way to somewhere else. Hasta mañana!
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I was a very contented bike tourist climbing into bed.

Day 34 Friday April 30
Jimena de la Frontera to Camping San Juan, Jubrique 43 km Total KM 1510
Min Meters 39 Max Meters 859
Total Climb 1067, Total Descent 893
Min Temp 14 Max Temp 38 Ave Temp 27

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The Towns Along the Way
San Pablo de Buceite
Gaucín
 

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OP
OP
HobbesOnTour
Location
España
Day 35 Sunday May 1

Sidetracked or is that Uptracked?

I was in such a state of bliss last night after such a great and spontaneous end to the day (the descent was glorious!) that I think my subconscious was working on me while I slept. (While it was working on me I have my suspicions that a fox I'd seen earlier may have been working at my food panniers).

I'd passed a poster on the way down the hill last night advertising a fiesta in Genalguacil, a Pueblo Blanco that was up the mountain away from Algatocín - in the opposite direction of Ronda where I was planning to go!
I awoke with the plan preformed in my head - up to Genalguacil, have a look at the Fiesta (today was Sunday so hopefully there'd be action in the daytime as well as the night), then back down and back up to Algatocín and then on to Ronda, my destination from yesterday. A ferocious amount of climbing but I was feeling great!

As camping spots go, this was pretty good! I was on grass, there was a sheltered area for cooking in the rain, lots of space (you can see the Dane's tent & bike).




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The idea did cross my mind that I could leave my stuff here and pick it up on the way back but then I thought that if it was interesting I might want to stay in Genalguacil.

My Danish buddy was over while I was having my coffee talking about weather forecasts and campsites that were closed. He'd found one that was closed (or never reopened after Covid) and now was very nervous. He was studiously checking his map for campsites (in a huge range) and then trying to find out if they were open. Annoyingly, he asked me about each one too, clearly not understanding my feckless attitude. My more casual approach confused him. He was a very pleasant man but very difficult to pass time with obsessing, as he was, on tiny details.
He wasn't sure where he was going yet - he hadn't processed all the data.

That, up there, is where I was heading off to. My hope was to experience some Fiesta on a Sunday afternoon, fly back down, then up to explore Algatocin and on to Ronda. If you want to give God a laugh tell him your plans......
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I set off, stopping off to say goodbye to the monster shepherd, hit the road and promptly headed off up the wrong hill! I took that as a sign, turned around, had a coffee in the friendly restaurant and then set off up the right hill!

It was steep and tough and hard but not a feck was given. A bit of traffic suggested activity further up but I had no problems on the narrow road.
Yesterday, on the bigger road I had been playing some music as I went along. Today that would have been sinful. The road was narrower, more closed in and I had lots of birdsong to keep me ticking along. I also had a few little lizards scurrying on the road too!

The poster that worked on me in my sleep! I've heard of subliminal advertising but this is riducilous!
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There were so many colours other than shades of green, too. Wildflowers of yellow, pink and red, thistles purple, rusty heathers, dried leaves not yet fallen - a type of alternative autumn. Somewhere a little rio was rushing down below - more music.

All the colour! and what I (scientifically) christened "LoveHeart Leaves"
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My reward for all this effort was a great view of the town hugging the mountainside.

I was only mildly amused at myself hauling everything up knowing that I'd probably be hauling it all down again later. The flexibility offered by bringing it was what appealed to me. And it was still a very enjoyable ride
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I stopped at the first café I saw for a snack and a coffee to find the Danish guy already there! He was planning an unladen loop and must have passed me when I was in the restaurant. We shared a table but a completely different experience.
He wanted to talk about gear ratios and how much quicker he had ascended. "Feck gear ratios", I thought to myself - I'm fully loaded! When I asked him what he felt when he walked around these places he looked bewildered. Hot. Thirsty. Tired.
I found that incredibly interesting. When he started to talk about Ronda (he was thinking of going there too) I headed him off at the pass and said I didn't want to know. I explained my "exploring" attitude and that I preferred to be surprised (for good and bad) but he couldn't process that.

It took a while and a lot of effort but I was making progress
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He saddled up and headed off and frankly I was glad. This little mountain town just isn't big enough for the two of us ^_^ I set off pushing the bike. The town itself wasn't too steep - it was just steep to get here. Pushing around lets me see more. Unfortunately, nothing of the Fiesta was taking place. A stage was set up in the small Plaza and a few kiosks had been placed but were currently closed. I still had lots left to explore, though.

Genalguacil pitches itself as a "museum town", and it is filled with interesting artwork all around the town. Of course, all this was a surprise to me so I wandered around charmed.

Not only did I have to climb up to the town, I had to climb above it! The Touring Gods were taking the mickey at this stage! But what a view!
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As well as the art (and some of it was strange) there were wonderful displays of flowers and plants, sometimes taking over entire porches and corners. In still, silent, white streets these were often the only sign of life but what signs! Sometimes, I came across sounds of life coming from the houses through shuttered windows or curtained doors. The sounds of families preparing and eating food. And talking about food. I couldn't hear much but every conversation, it seemed, was about food!

Given how the town was practically hanging off the mountain there was no place to camp and I'd seen nothing likely on the way up either. I was content to wait around for later and maybe have another night in the campsite at the bottom of the hill.

I just love the contrast of the scene. There's a town. And there's wilderness. And nothing between them.
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Having seen everything there was to see and having dismissed the idea of doing a loop like the Dane I parked up the bike and sat down to read in the shade.

A little later everything went a bit screw ways. It seems that a part of the Fiesta is setting off fireworks and some guys came along to set off some of their own but Roccdo was in the way. Before I knew what was happening he was being manhandled and dragged out of the way. When I protested I received quite an aggressive and unwelcoming response from one, then all the men.

The mood was well and truly shattered so I mounted up and thought that there'll be more Fiestas.

A single example of some of the very varied art on display in this unusual and pretty little town
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I arrived at the bottom of the descent still a bit grumpy but with enough time to comfortably hit Ronda. However, I was not in the mood to explore another town - it wouldn't be fair - so I checked back in to the camp ground, greeted my Shepherd amigo and had another lovely evening in the restaurant. Alone. ^_^


Yep! I cycled fully loaded up a big hill only to return to the bottom ^_^ And I loved (nearly) every minute of it!


Day 35 Sunday May 01
Camping San Juan, Jubrique to Camping San Juan, Jubrique via Genalguacil 13 km Total KM 1523
Min Meters 217 Max Meters 562
Total Climb 433, Total Descent 435
Min Temp 23 Max Temp 41 Ave Temp 32

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Last edited:
OP
OP
HobbesOnTour
Location
España
Sunday May 1

Genalguacil

I'm not sure if this was part of the art on display or just a quirk of nature
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White, bright and quiet!
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Plants and little trees bring life and colour to the town
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Art doesn't have to be "High Art" although this was, in a way
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Just somebody's house! The plaque on the wall is in honour of a local lady, Doña Antonia. I ❤️ these! (Oh! just check out how steep the place is!)
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Even old bottles can be made into art. Mind you, the location may help just a little bit
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Just an all-round interesting place
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Art for everyone
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Too early for any Fiesta activities......
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A lot, and I mean a lot, of towns have some kind of a memorial to emigrants. I always find them to be moving and quite "human". Parts of Spain have been ravaged by emigration, either to the cities or abroad. Being Irish, the concept is far from alien and being an emigrant myself, I find myself appreciating these and feeling a bit of a local connection.



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More pics here
 
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