Introduction
Spain
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| Quixotic windmills near Cartagena |
Spain is one of the most diverse countries in Europe. In spite of the many chauvinist movements that occurred during centuries at central and regional levels, the Spanish cultural geography continues to be enriched by the presence of a great variety of influences. Maybe this is a reason why the extreme-right political initiatives that plague the rest of Europe have not been so successful here, at least until now.
It is known how the same language, Spanish Castilian in this case, can change from place to place in the same country. This of course is more evident when changing from one linguistic area to another. While Spanish is spoken by the vast majority of the people, its official language status does not make it the mother tongue of all Spaniards. In many cases that status is an excuse to give vent to many differences and confrontations between the central powers and the regional societies.
However, language is not the only evolving factor in the Spanish geography. The same happens with food, customs and even with driving styles. Cycling through this diversity means adapting to various changes. While the main infrastructure -- communications system and transport network, among others -- remains the same, the bike traveler must be attentive to the evolving signs.
I live in a Spanish city, Granada, on the foothills of the historic Sierra Nevada of Andalusia. I know well and appreciate very much the communications skills of Granaínos, who break any ice with a wonderful smile, a quick wit and a ready joke (even if they think of themselves as marked by the malafollá or moodiness).
While this is not so evident in other parts of Spain, good communication is something that the visitor will appreciate anywhere in the country. There are a few similarities at national level, such as the proverbial tendency to appreciate good food. Y aquí se come tan bien... is the customary closing to the boasting of local attractions in any village, city or region in Spain. Furthermore, the ubiquitous mid-morning meal that almost always includes a coffee and a small snack is democratically shared by everyone in the cafeterias between 10 and 11 every morning.
Cycling in Spain is a great pleasure. Like in Italy, there are many bikers on the roads and on the mountain paths. People are used to see people cycling and almost all drivers are quite respectful. I enjoyed very much the first leg of my trip, in particular because of the support and encouragement I received in many places. Also, the remarkable regional differences from region to region are easier to appreciate from the bike.
Day 1: Granada - Huéneja
A pleasant day, albeit cold, with fine weather and a cloudless sky. I say goodbye to Estelle at home. It is weird to think that I will be absent for a few months.
I am not in great shape today and the long ascent up to Pantano de Quéntar and then up to Tocón and Puerto de los Blancares is rather toilsome. But it is compensated with the easy downhill up to Purullena and Guadix. A freezing wind receives me when I take the service way. I try to have a sandwich but it is too cold. The temperature is 9° when I arrive down at Huéneja.
I stay at Hotel Gonzalez, on the highway to Almería. I try to rest in the afternoon but the hotel is very cold. I feel cramps on both legs. I eat the rest of the sandwich I couldn't finish before.
I go down to the hotel restaurant, warmer than the bedroom. Lodging 25 euros plus dinner 13 euros. Pumpkin soup, croquetas with egg, cheese cake. I am the only patron. There is a sombre atmosphere in this cold place.
Day 2: Huéneja - Almería
Breakfast at Hotel Gonzalez. I slept well, warm under a ton of blankets. No more cramps for now. I thought that Lady G (the Garmin GPS) would send me through the highway service way but she had better ideas. For about 30 km from Huéneja to Juntas, I ride on the historic Camino Real, a wide dirt road built by old governments that used to link Almería and Granada during many centuries. Then there is a junction with side roads and a great descent (sometimes at more than 50 km/hour) towards Almería. Heavy traffic at the end.
I stay at a private room I hired through Airbnb. Cheap and simple. However, the relationship with the hosts is tainted by the inhuman interests of money. It is not an spontaneous encounter of persons interacting with the expectations and respect between hosts and guests. It is an arranged and contracted link with its rights and obligations. The host introduces me to a friend who has a programme in the local radio of Almería. We chat about books and culture. But money has perverted the connection from the beginning. I go to bed with a bitter taste.
Day 3: Almería - Carboneras
To hell with Lady G! The GPS's choice of route is a crazy stony dirt road sometimes with heavy sand on it. It is impossible to ride the bike, and I have to push it a long distance. I get lost behind a highway in construction. Mr Hu (the Huawei phone) isn't of great help either. The workers tell me to take a road that goes into a farm. The farmer yells, "This is a private property!" I get back and he comes behind me driving his pickup to check that I am not staying in the farm. He finally opens a gate and I can find a side road to Carboneras. The small hotel is expensive (35 euros) and the receptionist, Sergio from Chile, badly needs someone to listen to him.
I go to the beach to look at the sea, my friend. I am not in my best spirits. A fantasy: I sell Alhamra (the bike), I go back home, I tell everybody that they robbed the bike somewhere. Another fantasy (more cruel): I throw Alhamra from a bridge, I go back home, etc.
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| Lost in the Almeriense desert |
Day 4: Carboneras - Águilas
Nice road alongside the sea, with outstanding views. Hard ascents, especially in the beginning. Good weather, sunny and cool. I am in better shape today and more motivated.
In Águilas all inexpensive hotels are full. I ask in the police station, in a church, to people in the streets but nothing. I finally take a bungalow in Bellavista camp site at the entrance to Águilas. Very good one and very expensive (40 euros). I need to buy a tent - if not, my budget will expire very fast.
I receive a positive reply to my Couchsurfing request in Mazarrón. Finally!
Day 5: Águilas - Mazarrón
I start at 9.30 from the campground and stop by the Decathlon shop of Águilas (well-known from our recent holidays in Calabardina last August). The saddlebags support are failing and I can't fix it. The problem, Joan of Decathlon tells me, is that the "L" bag is on the right side and the "R" one on the left. He fixes it with some difficulty but it takes time. I finally start riding at noon.
Long and steep ascent. I am at my limit but do not need to push the bike. It is generally sunny and at times cloudy. Windy but on my back. I arrive to a col and then comes the exhilarating downhill through back roads and later on a highway up to Cañada de Gallego. Then a dirt road takes me to this short but fabulous section of Eurovia8 on the sea side. The weather is cold and there are threatening dark clouds arriving from the east.
I finally arrive to Mazarrón Bolnuevo. Enrique Porras, my Couchsurfing host, is waiting at his beach restaurant (chiringuito), which is still closed for the winter season. I am tired. We wash clothes and then we go to his friends' bar at the village. It looks like it will rain today.
Day 6: Rainstorm in Mazarrón
9 March
Indeed I was tired. I slept eleven hours... It is great to have a warm place to stay during the wild storm outside. It is cloudy, cast skies, very windy and cold. I stay with Enrique in his home-cum-chiringuito at the beach. It is raining cats and dogs, and water floods part of the house. I invite Enrique to lunch in one of the village's restaurants. Excellent cod fish with veggies. Post-lunch siesta.
Enrique is from Madrid and he lives in Mazarrón since about twenty years ago. He owns this restaurant that opens from Easter to the end of summer. He lives alone here and has many friends. He is generous, smart, funny and very good at conversation. He has a daughter who is a successful influencer on the makeup and beauty industry. He suggests that I should also be a "youtuber" showing up my cycling tour. There is money to be earned there. My lodging and other expenses could diminish. I could even get sponsors. I tell him that there is nothing so far from my conception of traveling than appearing in the social media.
I imagine myself cycling under a dron with cameras recording my experience. I look at the camera and address my audience: "Are you over sixty like me? Like you, I spent the whole day just watching TV and eating junk food. And look at me now. Come on! Go, take your old bike out of the garage and start pedaling for your mental and physical health. I'm almost 69 and I ride thousands of kilometers. I visit amazing places. I meet new friends. I feel great! Why not feeling good like me? Now get up of your sofa, turn the TV off and go out to do some outdoor activity. You will thank me for the rest of your life."
I reckon it would work, if you think about it from a marketing point of view. A captive audience of aged people --and not so aged but worry about ageing-- following the Cycling Grandpa through the European roads. A good number of sponsors paying for the advertising: health and insurance companies, bike manufacturers, clothing. Why not?
It would never work with me. I believe in a personal experience, deep communication with the spirits of the trees, the sea, the birds, the wind. I resist doing anything just to flatter myself or about my exploits. I delete all the "I's", "me's" and "myself's". And I hate to put a price on it. I love sharing but not in that way. I love doing things for nothing.
We have very good chats with Enrique and his friends. I am not used to this type of sociability, sporadic conversations with the TV set as a constant background. At times it is a whirlwind of chatting and noise from the football matches and motorbike races at high volume, all mixed up with influencers, youtubers and online dating candidates from the Caribbean islands.
This media-dominating context is the reality for millions in wealthy European countries such as Spain. I like to be confronted to this reality, so far from my daily life. To be immersed in it. Furthermore, I understand better my screen-immersed acquaintances.
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| Helping my host Enrique at his chiringuito |
Day 7: Mazarrón - Cartagena (with a little cheat)
It is sunny and fairly cool today. I help Enrique to paint the terrace's gate in preparation for the summer season. He is a pragmatic person and knows how to manage his business. I like his down-to-earth way of thinking.
Then he drives me and the bike up to Puerto de la Cuesta, saving in this way most of the climbing effort of today. The rest of the road is a piece of cake, starting with the great downhill from the Puerto. Countryside roads with no traffic at all. I quickly arrive in Cartagena.
I stay at the Loop Inn hostel, a clean and inexpensive place for low-budget travelers.
Day 8: Cartagena - Alicante
I start with the first lights. Bad news, my host in Valencia will not be able to receive me. I shouldn't read the messages before riding. It will be the Fallas festival in Valencia, which adds a lodging complication to my plans. I'm a bit disillusioned.
The beginning is on the highway. I am getting used to Lady G and her ups and downs. She is a rather temperamental being. Flat terrain but strong headwind, at times very hard to advance.
My plan today is to stay in Torrevieja, about 60 km from Cartagena. But the news from Valencia push me up to go on to Alicante thus shortening the distance.
When I am near La Marina after Torrevieja I have my first flat tyre on the front wheel. It takes me a while to take the wheel off due to the saddlebag support. When I want to pump the spare inner tube I realise that the pump is not adapted for my wheel valves! How could I not think on this? Thanks God there are many cyclists around. I ask a Dutch chap for help. We are able to adapt his pump and the wheel is ok, even if a bit uneven. When I arrive at Alicante I buy a new pump and a spare inner tube. Then I go to Olé Hostel (28 euros), not as good as the one in Cartagena. After a shower I indulge myself with a good pizza and four empanadas. In the hostel, the manager is Emiliano, very tall Uruguayan cook and basket player. I am alone in the shared room.
Day 9: Alicante - Alcoy
Off from the hostel, happily riding towards the inner mountains of this region, I am thinking that finally everything is going ok. But there are other plans for me: another flat tyre on the front wheel darkens my day. It occurs a few kilometres after the local Decathlon shop, so I come back pushing Alhamra. The workshop guy is new and he gets nervous because he can't replace the wheel. We do it together with the manager's help and everything is ok. I am on the road at 12.30.
Service ways, back roads going up to a "puerto" (mountain pass), where I arrive quite tired. On the way, I chat with a group of funny women from Ecuador. Later I overtake another cyclist who shouts, "¡Venga, que ya solo te queda el gran bajazo!". And a man who gives me directions asks where I am coming from and going to. He cries, "¡Pues qué cojones tienes!".
Still another encounter, but this one makes me a bit uneasy. When I start the descent to Alcoy, I notice a man sitting alone at the roadside. He is smiling at me. I greet but he doesn't answer and keep looking at me. It is a weird apparition, because there is nobody else and no car that he could have been using to arrive in that lonely spot. He is wearing a sort of a tunic, quite dirty, and sandals on his feet. There is a strange light around the place where he is sitting. Everything is uncanny, I don't like this person.
I finally arrive in Alcoy (Alcoi in Valencian), a nice mountain city on the north of Alicante province. Juan, my host, receives me in his neat studio. Juan is Colombian, from Bogotá. He is the sixth generation of a traditional coffee producing family at Eje Cafetero. He is very intelligent, humble, hard-worker and extremely well-organized. His place is very clean and neat. He is a good listener and thinks before speaking. He is studying for an MBA and works online as user designer in mass applications (still not exactly sure what is that...). He looks like a lonely person but he has friends from the university and is in constant communication with his family. He is sensible and very polite. I imagine Juan playing important roles in the future, wherever he is.
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| Juan prepares dinner in Alcoy |
Day 10: Alcoy - Gandia Platja
As usual, it is very difficult to get out of the city. Three times I pass near Juan's apartment building. I ask several persons and this time Lady G shows herself helpful. I ride first on a highway, then on a dirt road. Alfons, a cyclist, tells me to go back and up to Cela the village. A beautiful mountain road (CV705) goes up to a very nice col with plenty of trees, where I make a lunch break. Great descent, service way and highway up to Gandia, on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. I find a bedroom in a cheap place, Hotel Mengual, for 17 euros. I am now in the province of Valencia. I am in lone wolf mood today and do not speak with anyone in particular.
Day 11: Gandia Platja - Valencia
The hotel proves to be rather cold so I don't sleep so much. However, the warm shower is always something to thank God, the archangels, and the lodging industry too.
Again I get lost going out of Gandia. The flat topography adds to a long and uninteresting highway up to L'Albufera. It is a natural lake of fresh water where the Arabs grew rice. Here is the birthplace of the world-famous paella, the most well-known of Spanish dishes. I wonder why بحيرة /buhaira/ (lake) evolved into "bufera", that is an unusual evolution. The road is rather boring. I have a snack under a generous holm oak. Then comes one village after the other, all of them satellites of Valencia. Ugly and heavy traffic.
But something is different in Valencia. There are many more cyclists than in Andalusia and Murcia. The region is gifted with hundreds of kilometers of fine cycleways. I ride with a security that I can't feel elsewhere. Somebody is planning for the future generations. Somebody is thinking green here.
In Valencia, I stay with Marie and her son Maxime. They are old friends. She studied with Estelle in Geneva and is now living in Valencia. They host me during my staying in this beautiful city that is now under the noisy celebrations of Las Fallas. I have a nice time with these friends.
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| With Marie in Valencia |
Day 12: Valencia - Castellón
It is the first warm day in my journey. For the first time I ride the bike without covering legs and arms in the invigorating fresh air.
It is not easy to find the way from Valencia to Poça. I start on the "Xurra via verde" cycleway, a nice albeit straight route of a former railway. I get lost again in Poça and I almost ride into a motorway. Then I connect with another via verde, "Ojos Negros", near the city of Sagunto. After that, Lady G drives me through beautiful and tranquil roads surrounded by tangerine and orange plantations. I arrive to Castelló de la Plana, Castellón in Spanish, and waste a lot of time trying to find Hotel La Corte (unpleasant and expensive). The lady in charge is not very keen to receiving guests. Once in the bedroom I imagine how my own burial place would look like. I visit the city but there is no much to see. I call my son Brandon, who is happy in Britany with his girlfriend. I go to bed early. Nothing better to do here.
Day 13: Castellón - Alcossebre
Early in Castellón, looking for some breakfast. Near the hotel everything is closed. There is a café opening but the man looks at me sternly, "Don't you see that we are closed?" I ask him if he knows any other place. "Búscatelo tú". Nice souvenir from Castellón.
The weather is cool but not cold. I am heading on the direction of the sea, then along the coast up to Benicassim. A new cycleway starts here, very short and very nice, up to Oripelas (6 km). Then on rural roads to arrive in nightmarish Marina D'Or. I don't understand how a disaster like this can happen. A very nice seaside region is suddenly developed into a mass construction monster with hundreds of buildings occupied only in the summer season. Ugly summer towns are mushrooming as the result of real estate businesses in several Spanish Mediterranean places. Nature is destroyed. In its place emerges a huge capitalist temple.
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| Awful roundabout monument at Marina D'Or |
Out of the unpleasant feeling created by Marina D'Or, I am riding now through back roads adjacent to farms and plantations: tangerines, artichokes, date palms and almond trees.
I know Alcossebre from previous holidays. "La Vihuela" belongs to Marie, who inherited from his father Paco. He has been a well-known classical guitar professor, composer and researcher. Marie is already on the way to Geneva but she gave me the key to stay in this great place.
I buy groceries, I wash clothes, I cook. I am happy here alone. The food is لذيذ جددا!!! (delicious).
I can't close the terrace door. Maxime, who is in Alcossebre with his father Ricardo, comes to help.
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| Camí de Ribamar, Valencia |
Day 14: Alcossebre - Amposta
It is a cold today. The dirt road, "Camí de Ribamar", goes along the coast surrounded by trees and wonderful views. Sometimes the stones on the road make me push the bike. I arrive in Peñíscola, then continue through secondary roads to unattractive summer resorts with their ugly "urbanizaciones", roundabouts and cheap beach shops. Benicarlo. Vivarós. Nothing to highlight. After a bit of tangerine tree plantations through back roads, the itinerary connects with a heavy-traffic highway, La Rápita, and finally Amposta, my first city in Catalonia.
I will stay with Priscilla, a Couchsurfing host in Amposta. She is still not available so I wait on a café on the riverside of the Ebro River. It is windy and cold, and clouds are arriving from the sea. I visit the famous bridge on the Ebro. Then I find a bar full of local men and one woman behind the counter. Not a traditional Saint Patrick's Day celebration!
Priscilla lives in a small studio, "xiquito" says she. Plenty of decorations and colour lights, not without good taste. She lives with her boyfriend Feliú, who is absent today, and Karina the cat. I sleep on the couch, quite comfortable.
I wake up many times during the night. Nightmares and cramps. There is a conspiracy of Couchsurfing hosts who want power. They track the weaker hosts and try to steal guests from them. They come for me but Priscilla fiercely defends her guest so I finally stay in her place.
Day 15: Amposta - Altafulla
A nice early start to take advantage of the day. I leave when my host is still on bed. I stop in L'Aldea for a good "café con leche" (no bread available yet). Highway until L'Ampolla, on the sea coast. From there on a beautiful seaside road. I get lost in a forest. Then comes an exploit by Lady G: she takes me off the noisy N-340 and through a lonely road on a beautiful pine tree forest near the mountains of Serres de Cardó-el-Box and Tossal de Montagut. Very nice and calm with no traffic at all. Then I am back to the coast on L'Hospitalet de l'Infant. After that comes Cambrils, Salou and finally Tarragona. I don't want to stay in the city and keep going for ten kilometers more Trillas camp site in Tamarit beach, near Altafulla.
I am tired and "feliú" (happy). I like this elegant Catalonian language and the sound of the place names. Tomorrow I will have an easy ride to Sant Cugat, where I will be staying with my nephew Marcos and his family, إن شاء الله (in shá Allah).
Day 16: Altafulla - Sant Cugat del Vallès
It is not an easy ride. Indeed, a very long day today. First I take the highway N340, very loaded with traffic but incredibly respectful drivers. Then through a coastal road, very nice with the views of the sea. Again the highway, secondary roads and, from Sitges, the amazing C-31 on the hanging cliffs up to near Barcelona. A road starts going uphill south of the big Catalonian city, which I avoid in order to reach my nephew Marcos's home at Sant Cugat. It is not a long distance from the coast but the GPS marks over 300-meter rise when I stop. Sometimes I have to push the bike. I am very tired. I have been cycling approximately 100 km today and yesterday.
I arrive but they are not there. I wait in the neighbouring bar.
Day 17: Family break at Sant Cugat
20 March
This is nice, to stay with such a beautiful family. Marcos and Claudia, and their boys Nico and Adrián. Today they went to work and to the school. I am well kept here, writing on a table in the backyard with plenty of birds and trees under the warm Catalonian sun. I wash and now the clothes are drying. Then I will visit the village.
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| With Marcos, Claudia, Adrián and Nico |
Sant Cugat del Vallès is a medium-size town close to Barcelona (five kilometers from Les Planes quarter), and many commute every day to and from Barcelona. There is an smart Romanesque monastery, which I visit, and many Latin American residents are busy in the peaceful streets.
In the evening I help the boys with their homework, we play a bit of piano and we draw. Then we have a great dinner.
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| Monastery of Sant Cugat |
Day 18: Sant Cugat del Vallès - Campins
I thought this would be a hard day. This is one of the things I like from tour cycling. You plan every detail but there are always surprises.
My plan is to ride from Sant Cugat to Campins, a village near Sant Celoni in the Catalonian Vallès Oriental, where my request has been accepted by a new host. I bade farewell to Marcos and his family. Leaving the urbanized area near Barcelona is much easier than expected (thank you Lady G!). After some time on the heavy-traffic highway I take the road to Coll de Praders, a beautiful ascent through the forest with a few cyclists and almost no cars or trucks.
A thrilling downhill after the col and a new shadowed road going up to another col. Again down to Sant Celoni, detour to Campins with some steep rises up to a beautiful house, "Cal Ermità", outside the village and in the countryside. A surprise: Fabián, my host, is an Argentinean psychologist established tens of years ago in Catalonia (identity sensitivities are strong here -- it is not easy to write "Spain" instead of "Catalonia").
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| Myriam and Fabián |
This place is a real paradise. Fabián shows me the way to my room, with a great bed and bathroom, and he serves a lunch prepared for me. We had long and very interesting conversations. Later arrives his wife Myriam, also a psychologist and university professor, and their son Inti. Dinner includes pork jaw with baked potatoes and onions and, more important, another great conversation. This people is so nice, and the house is marvelous, on a rustic country style, with the atmosphere of a mountain hut.
Day 19: Campins - Girona
This morning I am thinking that this was more or less the same distance that I cycled last year to Santiago de Compostela. I am really in high spirits now. The different contingency plans (sell the bike, go back home) are disregarded and forgotten. When I cross the Pyrenees it will be like burning my bridges.
I have a great breakfast with Myriam and Fabián, including toasts with avocado and cheese, coffee and fruits galore. I start on a nice descent through a dirt road directly to Sant Celoni, then a combination of the regional highway C-35 and very fine provincial roads with light traffic.
A note on the drivers in Catalonia. They have been the most respectful ones of all my journey, followed only by those in Italy and also in Albania. In Catalonia and Italy there is a social conscience about the dangers of sharing the road with cyclists. Good manners are apparent on the road, such as never overtaking cyclists on a bend or when other vehicles are coming in another direction. Drivers strictly respect the rule of 1.5 meters when overtaking a cyclist. This means that, even in loaded traffic, you feel secure. More anon about the drivers in Albania, where drivers are confronted to lots of cyclists, people walking and even cows, goats and dogs (and sometimes in the middle) of the highway.
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| Sant Pere de Galligans, Girona |
After the C-35 the terrain is mostly flat and I easily find my way. In less than four hours I arrive in Girona, where I stay at the Bells Oficis bed and breakfast (recommended by my former colleague Josep Bosch, who lives in this beautiful city). It is expensive, like everything in Girona, but very nice and comfortable, and it includes breakfast.
I visit a local pharmacy. My pressure is ok and I lost six kilos since the beginning of the trip. I feel very well, except for my right hand that hurts from gripping the handlebar.
Girona has plenty of historic buildings. This city definitively has a strong personality. It is neat, proud, clean and very nice.
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| Aprofita el temps que corra com l'aigua (take advantage of time that flows like water) The bathroom sink at Bells Oficis bed and breakfast |
Day 20: Girona - Garriguella
Very nice rural roads and suddenly, the Pyrenees! France is just behind the mountains.
It is getting cloudy. I pitch my tent at the camp site Vall Empordá. Elizabeth, the manager, gives me a blanket to use as a mat (I bought the tent online in Barcelona, but I still don't have a sleeping bag and a mat). It is cold outside, and there is a humid wind coming from the sea, which is at some 15 kilometers away. My body hurts. I sleep very bad.
The following day I get up very early. I meditate near a dirt road off the village. I speak with a couple from Lyon who are visiting their children here. Finally Bar La Espera opens. A deliciously warm place, where I take a good "café con leche" and toast. I chat with Oscar about bicycles (he owns the grocery store nearby). Surprise: the bar is served by Irene from Uruguay. So nice people here!
In Catalonia and on the other side of the Pyrenees many are worried with the extended drought that impacts every day life of most people. Irene and Oscar are hopeful that the announced rainstorm will come true. I imagine a nice shower on their fields while I go up the Pyrenees towards France.
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| Camping at Vall Empordá |
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| Irene and Oscar at La Espera, Garriguella |
