Saturday, April 26, 2008

1,760!!!! WE MADE IT!!!

...and for what it's worth, you actually can't go to the very, very, very southermost point in Europe because, as it turns out, the the very, very, very southermost point in Europe is actually military territory and they don't take it very well if you leave your bike there and take photos. I'm just sayin'.

So that's it: it's taken care of. It's not entirely finished yet, because I need to go back and re-sticker certain sections and take a look at other alternatives. But the ride is over, we made it safe and sound, and with the weather forecast looking good for the next couple of days, I think I'm gonna do some Tarifa-ing (i.e. park my carcass on the beach and do as little as humanly possible until it either rains or I have to go to Madrid.)

I'm not sure of what it should feel like to have done something like this. I'm not physically tired, really (although I'm glad to have a couple of days off the bike so that my hands can recuperate) but I'm not ready to go back to Madrid just yet. Mom asked me the other night if I was planning to ride back to Madrid; I said "no way", but it would be great to have the chance to try to make it back a different way. I just don't want to go back to my "normal" life yet. I don't want to have to deal with whiny students, traffic, the Metro, having to move in June, the bank, the internet provider....I just want to keep on riding, numb hands and headwinds notwithstanding....

Friday, April 25, 2008

Almost there

The fabulous and quick Roman M., a native of New Jersey who's been in Spain for over eighteen years, came to join us today, and it was a good thing that he did, because I think that the three of us would have gotten a lot more disheartened a lot more quickly had it not been for the sight of someone quicker than us going uphill out of Bolonia. There's a Force 9 wind blowing through the Straights of Gibraltar today, and while it's invaluable for keeping the sky blue, it's a right royal pain in the ass, because, as usual, we're catching it full in the face. Aggravating.

But at the same time, it was a thrill to get over the hill at San Bartolomé and see the sandy curve of the Playa de los Lances lying in front of us, along with the distant blue peaks of the Rif Mountains on the Moroccan side. Even if we were all getting blown into the guard rails....

But it's Tarifa, and if there's one thing that the Campo de Gibraltar region is known for, it's for the incessant winds which blast the living hell out of the area almost daily. Years ago, Tarifa's claim to fame was its abnormally high suicide rate, which was blamed by many people on the relentlessness of the winds which assault the region. Luckily, the tarifeños have been able to make those winds work for them, attracting windsurfers, kite surfers and electricity companies in equal measure, giving the area a measure of economic stability. And at least we're not getting rained on with the weather....but it looks like the triumphant ride to the Punta de Europa might need to wait for a day, just to be safe....

UPDATE, 13 MAY 08:
I just checked the Weather Office stats for Tarifa on the 25th of April, and it turns out that it was a Force 7 wind, not a Force 9 wind. Still, that ranks as a Near-Gale wind on the Beaufort Scale. Scary!

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Flat lines

I was just waking up when Andrew came up and said that he and Randy were setting off.

"Do you know where you're going?" I asked.

"I think so," he said. "Someplace called Za-something."

"Just be safe and don't go on the highways," I muttered. And they took off.

Highways are a big problem in this part of Andalusia. The Alcorconales Nature Reserve cuts the Campo de Gibraltar area in half vertically so it's hard to get across the mountains, and while the A381 highway has removed a lot of traffic from the regional roads, there aren't that many ways of getting to the coast. Had Andrew and Randy been riding mountain bikes (and had they not been quite so determined to get an early start every day) I would have shown them the Corredor Verde de las Dos Bahías, an adapted transhumance route that links the Bay of Cádiz with the Bay of Algeciras. At 94 kilometres long, it's not the longest hiking and biking route in the area (the E4/GR7 hiking route trumps them all - almost 10,000 km between Tarifa and Athens) but it's a good alternative for non-motorized transit. On the Michelin map of Andalusia, it's shown as closed road, but it's nothing that a bike can't handle, especially if it hasn't been raining and you've got no particular desire to ride up to the town of Vejer de la Frontera.

The key to cutting this day short is to take the Corredor Verde westward just before reaching Benalup de Sidonia - Casas Viejas, cross the regional road and instead of turning left to go southward, keep following the cañada real straight on until you reach the N340 highway before Tahivilla. This cuts the day down from over 70 km to just under 50 - providing, of course, you're equipped for offroad riding. You go through irrigated fields of wheat and crops, and no one seems surprised or offended if you're on a bike (though a German couple attempting the route on a Vespa got some strange looks from the local farmers.)

One note, though - there's no shade whatsoever, so make sure you've plastered your shoulders well with sunscreen. I didn't. Ah well, at least I know that the sunburn will keep that sleeping bag toasty warm tonight....

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Sorry, JR.

Querido Juan Ramón:

Sorry, babe. After all the e-mails, phone calls and everything, it just didn't work out in the end.

We left Osuna shortly after nine and rode south towards El Saucejo, like I was saying I wanted to do back in 2004. The weather mostly behaved itself - there was wind and sporadic showers, but it wasn't anything scary - until we got to El Saucejo. Just before we descended into town the wind picked up (now I see why you've got that new wind farm just outside of the Barrancos Blancos mountain pass) and once we got through town, on the way towards Pruna, all hell broke loose.

Not only did the wind blow so hard out of the west that we couldn't get much velocity up (and this on a descent with a 6% grade), the storm that nearly knocked your electricity out came over that mountain pass in a black cloud that managed to devour the entire sierra. We had no choice but to turn tail and head back to the motorcycle rally at El Saucejo. I'll say this much - you have some awfully friendly and generous motorcyclists in your neck of the woods. Not only did they let us hang out in the beer tent while the storm blew through, they insisted on feeding us until we were about to burst, kept the Pepsi and beer coming, and were some of the sweetest people I've ever met.

So we finally got out of the beer tent at 3PM and headed over Terril. Walked over it, really. The wind picked up, the storms blew in, and it was just so much easier to push off the bike.

By the time I called you from the Ratones Coloraos bar in Pruna, we really didn't know what to do. If you'd been able to tell me that the Vía Verde de la Sierra was totally clean and passable - and I know from past experience that, 90% of the time, it probably is - we would have been there in no time. But I could tell from your voice that you were getting as clobbered as we were, that you'd probably had a number of cancellations too, and that you weren't in a position to guarantee safe passage to anybody.

I regret not being able to see you. I enjoy hanging out with you, listening to you talk about the area and hearing the passion in your voice when you talk about the beauty of the region. So I hope that I can make it up to you by publicizing the Estación de Coripe B&B and recommending it to everyone as a great place to stay and find out anything they want to know about the Sierras de Grazalema and Alcorconales. I hope that people take the time to discover the Estación, and get a chance to have one of the friendliest cups of coffee in Seville province.

http://www.estaciondecoripe.com

All the best,

P

Thursday, April 17, 2008

ARRRRRRRRRRGH!!!!!!!!! (Part 2)

(okay, breathe... breathe...don't totally lose it before dinner....)

Right, then. Hang on a second. I'm getting a drink and something to eat and then I'll settle down and write this up.

(SFX: Sound of muddy shoes crunching across a tiled floor.)

After a particularly rough day, there's nothing like a glass of good wine and a nice tapa of fried aubergines in honey. Alcohol, sugar, carbohydrates. And now, some photos which I hope will show why I'm so exhausted and angry.

(Sip of wine.)There's no nice way to say this: Until someone takes responsibility for the upkeep and development of the Vía Verde de la Subbética, it's probably better NOT to use it. No kidding. Using the section of the Vía Verde between Doña Mencia and Lucena means risking getting bogged down in mud and clay, risking falling and/or bike damage, and possibly putting you off ever using a Vía Verde again.

I know, I know. One of the aims behind the Trans-Iberian was to develop the use of Vías Verdes, but it's useless to promote the use of something which isn't well cared for, where their use is risky or dangerous (or just plain disgusting), where tons of money is invested in creating something which is just left to go to wreck and ruin afterwards.


What we have in these photos, folks, are two of the seven mud/clay pits that we (literally) ran into today. Some were only three or four metres long. With others, we were forced to slog through 250 metres of crap. Three times we had to take out dull steak knives to shave the mud off the wheels, the mud guards, the pedals and frames which, if you'll excuse the expression, totally screwed up the bikes. Two times we were forced to totally unload the bikes and carry stuff to the closest safe or clean area.

I know that some of you are probably wondering, So what? You're cyclists. You're supposed to like getting muddy and stuff like that. My answer: Um..... NO. Let me give you another example why this is a bad thing. Given that the Vía Verde touts itself as having been re-done so that everyone can use it, "everyone" should include people with mobility problems, such as senior citizens and the disabled.

Take a look at those photos and then imagine that you're a secondary school teacher who's got sixty kids on a field trip, including two who use wheelchairs. At no point have you been warned that sections of the Vía are intransitable; you get there - and what do you do with sixty kids who have energy to burn? In the best-case scenario, the kids who don't have mobility problems will return home with mud up to their knees, which will not endear you to their parents. And what will you do with the kids in wheelchairs, especially if they can't go anywhere - or worse, their chairs get caught in the muck?

A greenway which is not accessible to all users cannot be considered a recuperated greenway. That goes against the rules of the FFE, the organization which approves greenways in Spain. Why were there no signs or no indications along the way that that section was screwed up?? Ultimately, who has the responsibility for guaranteeing the safe use of a greenway? And that's not even mentioning that the once-lovely Interpretation Centre in the town of Cabra has been left to wreck and ruin, with broken windows and graffiti, without any plans, as far as I was able to find out, to cede management to anyone else. (BIG sip of wine.)

Now I'm trying to find information on who actually has the responsibility for running the Vía Verde de la Subbética because I'd really like to give them a piece of my mind. How much money is that organization getting which is not, in turn, being invested in the upkeep of the Vía Verde? SHAME.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

My vote for coolest youth hostel in Spain

Today is our rest day and to rest up, I'm going to treat myself. I've decided to have lunch in the Parador de Santa Catalina (I'll post pix later) and then at 5:00 pm I'm going to go to the spa. In the youth hostel.

Yes, you read that right. Jaén's new youth hostel is not just a place to lay your head at nights. The newly re-done facility also has a full-on spa, with services ranging from hydrotherapy to massage services to Pilates classes and even chocotherapy (where you get wrapped up in it, not eat it.) I'm going to do a hydrotherapy session and then have a massage on my hands and elbows...with any luck, they'll stop feeling like they're going to fall off.

Jaén is great. It's a small city, but Andalusian to its very bones, and the people here are a lot friendlier than I remember them being. When I was here last time, I remember them being somewhat rude and not very friendly, but who knows; maybe it was the weather that was getting to them.

Less wind now. More rain coming in during the weekend. Figures.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

UGH.

Bad, bad day in a way. Tough. One hundred and six kilometres of constant uphills and downhills. We're in Úbeda now, a lovely Renaissance town on the northern end of one of the most beautiful areas of Andalusia, and all I want to do is collapse in the bathtub with a good glass of wine.

We started out from Torre de Juan Abad at 9AM. The ride into Andalusia proper wasn't all that bad (I saw a number of deer and Randy got chased by a wild boar, which he tried to photograph with his BlackBerry) and then the first 20 kilometres of Andalusia weren't that bad. The two groups ended up splitting up after Santiesteban del Puerto; Randy and Andrew tried the route through Sabiote and we came through Navas de San Juan. And no matter how you try to get to Úbeda, there is no way of getting around the climb. Either way, you end up having to climb some 400 metres from the reservoir and the river to the top of the hills of Úbeda. And it's rough.

I can definitely say that the A301 is not the way to go. No way. And certainly not on a Sunday afternoon, when a Spaniard has won the Motorcycle GP race in Estoril, Portugal, which ends up bringing out every guy with a two-wheeled motorized vehicle, ranging from a two-cylinder Honda chugger to a high-end BMW performance machine. And what is up with the BMW drivers? Does one have to hold a certification for idiotic, snotty behaviour to drive one of those cars in this country? Does BMW refuse to sell you a car if you're unable to show that you have no regard for other users of the roads whatsoever? Aggravating.

Randy and Andrew ended up pitching their tents in an olive grove by 7PM, and Moncho and I stayed in a small pensión in the centre of the town. Úbeda was lovely, and will definitely merit a return visit. Tonight, however, I don't really want to move anywhere that doesn't involve sitting quietly and drinking wine....

Friday, April 11, 2008

Off we go into La Mancha

I have lost track of what day it is. I woke up this morning and realized that I'd left the packet of daily route sheets in with the folder of invoices I need to send to Salomon. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Well, at least it's all highways from here on in, and once we get to Jaén, it'll be like riding in my own back yard (if you could grow olives in Canada, that is.)

I can definitely vouch for the Castillo de San Servando Youth Hostel in Toledo as a good place to stay. For €15.90, you get a modern, clean room with a decent shower, breakfast; and, if you're lucky, a team of thirteen year-olds dressed identically that make you think of a group of kids in reform school. The only thing that was missing was the clank of ankle chains!! (Remember how mouthy pre-teens were when YOU were young? Things haven't changed.) Luckily, the youth hostel management has alternate accommodation for over 26's (the young 'uns get stuck in the top floor, where the old dungeon was, ha ha) so the three of us shared a room that had a view straight across the Tagus Valley with wonderful views of the Monastery of Santa Cruz and the Alcázar.

Today's ride wasn't that much of a surprise, especially since I'd ridden the route before back in December, so this time we knew that it wasn't worth the bother of trying to ride the Quijote sections after Almonacid de Toledo (most of the traffic now goes on the CM42 motorway, leaving the former national highway more or less clear of cars...though not completely.) We stopped for lunch in Mascaraque, in a restored 18th century posada which served excellent garlic rabbit (yup, they even gave me part of the head, too, in case I was interested.) Food is turning out to be a big part of this trip, and for anyone who's interested in doing this in the future, I'd suggest keeping the self-catering days to the absolute minimum - otherwise, you lose out on one of the most positive aspects of Spanish culture.

We DID self-cater for dinner, though, as we got to stay in what must have been the steal of the week - the Balcón de la Mancha rural hostal in Tembleque. For a mere €20 a head, the kind owners, Sagrario and Ángel, allowed us the use of one of their tourist apartments, complete with power massage shower, washing machine, full kitchen and nice, comfy beds. Wonderful!

Thursday, April 10, 2008

ENOUGH RAIN ALREADY!!!!

I haven't had a chance to post about the rain that we suffered on the way to Atapuerca (rain, hell, we got all kinds of precipitation that day) Well, we got it again today.

There's a big cold front that's blown in off the Atlantic and which is playing hell with the entire peninsula; Sevilla's famous Feria de Abril has been all but washed out, people in coastal Galicia are up to their armpits in overflowing rivers, and the poor farmers here in La Mancha desperately need the rain but it's not coming down in a way that would be useful - consistent, without wind and in large enough quantities that it would actually help the farmers. We didn't get it today. Riding down through Villacañas, grey curtains of rain would blow in and beat the hell out of us for an hour or so; then we'd get lovely blue skies. And then it would start all over again, never letting us get dry and warm enough to recover from one bout of precipitiation before we had to buckle down and get ready for the next one.

I can deal with rain but I am NOT good with wind. Never have been. And the weather predicition was for blasts of wind going up to 90 km/h. It never got quite that bad, but it was still bad enough for me to lose my temper and for Randy's wool cap, which he wears under his helmet, to get totally soaked.

Thing was, the route itself was actually pretty good today. Randy ended up getting applause from a couple of members of the gitano community in Villacañas, the surfaces of most of the trails weren't all that bad (save for a couple of muddy spots - but no clay, thank God) and the drivers were respectful and gave us lots of space.

I know how badly the farmers and people who live off the land in Ciudad Real must need the water. But damn, I am SO fed up with rain and wind that I feel like I might slap the next person who says that it's going to last for two more days.....

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Aranjuez to Toledo: Thanks, JM!

One of the greatest things about cycling is being constantly surprised at the generosity of other cyclists when it comes to offering food, accommodation, smiles and help in general. Doris Lessing once said that anyone who travelled on a bike couldn't be capable of evil, but what that quote doesn't capture is the capacity for good that most cyclists are willing to offer one another.

A living, breathing example of that is José Manuel Benayas (at right), a mountain biker from the town of Yepes, halfway between Madrid and Toledo. Back at the end of January, I posted a message on a Spanish-language cycling forum, publicizing the ride. Within two hours, JM had not only written, offering any kind of help, but spent over an hour on the phone with me, talking me through different ways that one could cycle between Aranjuez and Toledo (a section that Elspeth and I tried to do over the December long weekend.) And if that wasn't enough, he actually skived off work and came along.

The good news: It's not pleasant, but it's not impossible. Basically, what you need to do is keep cycling on the north side of the old Aranjuez-Toledo train line until you reach the highway to Mocejón. What Els and I did in December was to ride north into Mocejón and then go west along a regional road until we got to Toledo, but the big disadvantage to that was that once you get to Toledo, you've got to swing your way through a big cloverleaf of offramps and onramps before arriving in the city proper - pretty hair-raising. There's talk of turning the old railway bridge over the Tagus into a greenway. Let's hope so: it's a shame that one of the loveliest, most atmospheric cities in Spain is SUCH a pain in the patootie to get into if you're not in a train or a car...

Monday, April 7, 2008

POP this...

I don't get how the weather office calculates the risk of precipitation in Spain. When we were riding in Navarra and got clobbered by the wind and weather, the forecast was somewhat optimistic. When we got to La Rioja, the forecast was pessimistic, but we had a pretty good couple of days - until we got clobbered again on the way to Atapuerca. And today there's a POP of 100% but the weather's been more humid than anything else. It's kind of like May in Ottawa, really. Does 100% mean that there's a 100% chance that something's going to fall at some point in the day? That there will be rain? I don't get it.

*************************

I'm at home now, having made a quick (I hope) trip into Madrid to drop off the cold weather gear that I was using and to get both the English and Spanish blogs up to date. This weekend was excellent, once I got to meet up with the Pedalibre gang - Antonios López (aka Crazy Horse) and Tirado, Alicia, Julián, Reinhold the Multilingual, Kim from Switzerland and Madame Mati. Accommodation in Brihuega was kind of tight, since Brihuega had its spring fair going on, so Alicia called in a favour and we got to stay in a storage space owned by her (friend? cousin? never quite got it) Antonio, who also brought us the ingredients to make a couple of kilos of migas, a kind of dish of sautéed bread crumbs, chorizo meat and cinnamon which is far more delicious than I've described here. The spring fair in Brihuega is more like a big family reunion than the no-holds-barred Spanish fiesta that most people think of, and since they'd all ridden up from Guadalajara that night, no one was up for cutting many rugs.

Saturday morning dawned clear and bright, and after a quick breakfast of churros and coffee, we hit the road at ten. We were hoping that some members of the Club Ciclista Yunquera would join us, but no one showed, so we took off at ten and rode down to Armuña de Tajuña, where we met up with a couple more members of Pedalibre, and rode off to try to scare up lunch in Aranzueque, where I'd eaten with Elspeth and Gonzalo back in October.

Neither of Aranzueque's bars had anything happening for lunch, so the self-catering members of the group stayed and picnicked in front of Aranzueque's town hall, while the rest of us headed off to Loranca del Tajuna, finally finding the one bar that did serve food.

The ride into Madrid was a bit of a surprise, after having been away for several weeks; I don't know how, but I'd kind of forgotten how aggressive Madrid can be. Close shaves with SUVs (more than a pet peeve of Reinhard's), one car full of teenagers who passed a group of vehicles on an uphill solid line...annoying. Luckily we didn't have to tolerate the drivers for very long, as we got on the Vía Verde del Tajuña, which follows the Tajuña River for most of its course in the area. We made it to Morata shortly before eight o'clock, and spent most of the next three hours stuffing ourselves full of carbohydrates, before collapsing in bed by 11:00 PM.

Claire and Mayte came down the next day to ride with us to Aranjuez, and the whole lot of us headed down along the Vía Pecuaria to the campsite, where we met up with Randy Castle, who's come from a very snowy and cold Minnesota to join us. Randy is riding a Bike Friday, a type of folding bike which fits into its own Samsonite which, in turn, becomes a trailer. Randy's bike was a total hit with the Spanish cyclists, who were impressed by its simple functionality (and the fact that it could probably be snuck onto a plane or train without much fuss being made.)

Pizza for dinner, wine and beer enjoyed by the side of the Tagus river, and then off to bed. And there's been a little bit of rain today, but not much....

Friday, April 4, 2008

How do you solve a problem like Sigüenza?

I don't know what to do about Sigüenza. I just got into Brihuega after having come up from Sigüenza, and while I think I'll post the route as I did it, I have to find another alternative.

The easiest and most direct way to get to Brihuega is to leave Sigüenza by the CM1101 highway, go straight over for 25 kilometres, climb out of the Henares Valley and, once you reach the A2 motorway, take the service road to the turnoff that gets you onto the N204 highway. Under the bridge, on the roundabout, second road on the right and bam! Next thing you know, you're averaging 25 km/h to 30 km/h on a slightly hilly highway and, in less than an hour, you're there.

This makes it sound far, far more straightforward than it actually is. The highway that links Sigüenza with the A2 has a lot of traffic (and, admittedly, a fairly wide shoulder), but it's the climb up out of the valley just before you get the A2 that's fairly hairy. You are required to climb 200 metres in fewer than 4 km, on a highway where most drivers do not respect the speed limits (well, they do if they're driving older cars or trucks, but that seems to be more out of necessity than any sense of civic responsibility.) And -- there is NO nice way to say this -- the highway is FILTHY. The worst offenders? Bottles for water and soda which are filled with some kind of yellow liquid which I can only assume is urine. And since most women do not have the bodily control to emit into bottles like this, I can only assume that this means that guys are relieving themselves IN THEIR OWN CARS and flinging the bottles out of the window, for the rest of us to deal with.

I'm not saying that cyclists shouldn't go to Sigüenza. Rather the opposite. It's just that there has to be a much more pleasant way of leaving it....

Thursday, April 3, 2008

I'm Dawn Quijote, the Chick of La Mancha....

I know. Dumb joke, but I couldn't resist.)

Hey everyone!

Sorry about the delay in getting around to posting blog posts -- I never thought that it would be possible to go through so many towns where there was nary an internet place nor a Chinese restaurant (don't ask me why, but I've had the WORST cravings for Chinese food in the past few days.) At this moment, I'm in the lovely town of Sigüenza (made even lovelier by the fact that spring is beginning to hit big time here). In the next hour or so, I'll put up some more entries about what's been happening over the last week or so, but before I do that I need to put out a quick update: WE ARE NOT FINISHING IN ESTREMERA ON SATURDAY!! We're going to be finishing up the day in Morata de Tajuña, where we'll be staying at a hostal called the Libra II. I had some problems trying to get hold of the owners of the hostal (why, oh why, don't they ever answer their phones????) and I didn't want to risk bringing a whole whack of people into a town as small as Estremera without having some kind of sleeping arrangements lined up first. (I know, that's really anal and Canadian of me, but so be it.)

So on Sunday we'll be heading from the Plaza Mayor of Morata de Tajuña and heading towards Aranjuez. And like I mentioned before, anyone who's interested in coming along is more than welcome to, and if you live in Madrid but have never tried to make it to the Vía Verde del Tajuña, here's how you get there.

a) Take the Metro to the very southern end of Line 9 (Arganda del Rey.)b) When you get to Arganda, leave the station and turn RIGHT (west) out of the station and ride your bike for 400 metres, past the BP station and the merge on the left

c) After those 400 metres, you'll pass a white house with a bunch of cars parked illegally in front...just PAST that house, on the left-hand side, you'll see the red asphalt that marks the beginning of the Vía Verde. (Don't ask me why Vías Verdes in Spain are paved with red asphalt.) If you reach the roundabout, turn around and go BACK! You've gone too far!

d) Follow the Vía Verde to Morata - 14.7 kilometres in all. Don't kill yourself along the way! You do have to ride uphill after kilometre 4, but only for three klicks, and you get a nice, delicious downhill soon after (even though you have to pass that dumb cement factory....)

e) When you get to Morata, follow the Vía Verde to the Guardia Civil building and take the SECOND right going downhill: this should take you to the Plaza de la Constitución.

f) The route is pretty basic: Go WEST (=right) along the M313 for 10 km (and for a further three when the M313 joins the M404.) When you reach the town of Titulcia, don't go into the town itself; follow the highway to the second roundabout and follow the signs for Villaconejos. (If you're not riding a mountain bike or a hybrid you may find it more comfortable to head to Villaconjeos and then go down along the Tagus to Aranjuez.) Some 200 metres after that roundabout, you'll cross the Tajuña River and then IMMEDIATELY AFTER there'll be a turnoff to the right that indicates where the Vía Pecuaria (transhumance route) starts. (Look for the white signs with the cows on them.) We follow the Vía Pecuaria all the way into Aranjuez via the Real Cortijo de San Isidro gardens, and then we'll finish up in the Cámping Internacional Aranjuez campsite at about lunchtime. Feel free to bring your tent and sleeping bag if you'd like to make a quick getaway that night...you can take the Cercanías back into Madrid the next day.

Okay then....time to get to work on the updates of everything else that's been happening over the past week or so....

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Day 11: 80 km, moving mountains

I love Soria. At the same time, it frustrates the living hell right out of me. For a province that has so much going for it (amazing Romanesque architecture, wide open spaces, boundless heritage sites), it's so damn disorganized that if I didn't love it so much, I'd scream, frankly. Maybe it has to do with the fact that it's the least densely populated province in the country. And it shows. No sooner do you leave Burgo de Osma than you end up passing through towns populated with little more than feral cats and a handful of houses with collapsed roofs; long stretches of road dotted with dovecotes and dolmens; and the occasional towns, populated by silver-haired women in black who knit or fuss with their geraniums while their black-bereted husbands lean against the bar and knock back bottles of rough wine...if the town is lucky enough to have a bar that's still open.


Much of today's ride is rough, taking place on dirt roads that have been graded and prepared for tractor traffic but which isn't much good if you're on a bike that doesn't have hydraulic forks. But in a sense, it doesn't matter. Today is the first day we've had decent, sunny weather, and I'm willing to walk all the way to Atienza if it means being able to be outside when it's this nice out.


The biggest surprise is when we get to Montejo de Tiermes. One of the reasons that I wanted to go through here is because the SO-135 road was quiet and not particularly busy. Work has begun on widening the road, which is good news for the residents; but it's hell if you're on a bike. Aside from having to dodge an army of dumptrucks that are taking building materials to and fro, there's dust, there's nowhere to pee because of all the workmen (trust me, this is a MUCH bigger problem for women than for men)...annoying.


Then I get to Retortillo de Soria. According to the Junta de Castilla y León, there's supposedly a pensión in Retortillo. There's a campsite. There's a town hall, too, but I can't find anyone but a couple of the old-age pensioners who probably make up the vast majority of the 218 official residents of the town, plus a couple of Romanian workers who are rebuilding a house. The campsite is closed, I'll be damned if I can find the pensión, and the only person who seems cognescent enough to offer any kind of conversation is determined to warn me of the foxes that live in the Sierra de Pela, on the north side of town ... I don't exactly flee, but my last image of Retortillo is of an eightysomething resident with two teeth and a big cane, screaming, "If you get bitten, don't say I didn't warn you!!!" This is one of the things that is frustrating about Soria: the sense of wasted possibility. Retortillo could be beautiful, it could be a tourist centre, if only, if only, if only...........


So it's over the pass and through the fields, to Atienza we go, to stay the night in the Hostal El Mirador, run by the very amiable Miguel Angel and his family. Atienza is not exactly tourism central, either, but I know that with Miguel Angel and his family, I always have a bed and a meal at the end of the day.