Cycling Around the World by Tim & Steve

I spent a few hours on my phone this morning trying to figure out where we are staying the next week or so. One of my requests went out to a bicycle mechanic in Murcia to stay Friday night.

It turns out, there’s a gathering of bicycle tourists starting a 9-day bicycle tour in Murcia, and the kick-off party is Friday night! Not only that, but the fellow I contacted is involved with the event, and he was able to get us permission to stay with the 300+ cyclists Friday night, sleeping in a sports complex in Murcia!

We are really looking forward to meeting other like-minded cyclists!! Unfortunately, the tour itself is sold out, so they don’t have space for us to sleep, but we may follow them along for a couple of days, and find our own accommodations nearby their space.

Meanwhile, we’ve had a very relaxing day exploring Granada and preparing for our upcoming rides. The free tapas is really fun here. Every time you order a drink somewhere, you get a free tapas! Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and sometimes they even give you a menu to order your free tapas from! It’s like a fun game, going from one bar to the next, ordering a beer or Coca Cola, and seeing what they bring you.

Have spent the day so far getting up late, fighting the tourist crowds through the parts of Alhambra that we were able to get tickets to (the main palace is booked until May, and we don’t want to get up at 5:30 to get in line for same-day tickets), having ice cream at a place that Michelle Obama visited, doing our laundry, and relaxing at our adorable pension, with a balcony over a busy street where we can listen to the hub bub and people watch.

I’m kind of starting to feel overloaded with touristy stuff. Everywhere we go, there’s a castle, ancient gardens, beautiful city squares, and they are awe-inspiring to see, but because of this, they have become tourist traps. They are full of the same people, speaking English, French, and sometimes Spanish. They all have the same exact souvenir shops with everything made in China. Everyone speaks English at the restaurants and shops, and they all feign interest in your holiday. It’s all so cookie-cutter. Yes, it’s convenient, and when we are low on energy, it’s appreciated, but I’m starting to value more the little side streets and villages with local shops catering to locals. It’s more difficult because the don’t (or maybe won’t) speak English, and you get a lot of stares and exasperation, but these are the times when we start to understand the real Spain, and not the Spain that tourists expect. Pointing at random things on the menu and getting sometimes good and sometimes bad things, but always something new. Stopping at small cafes and listening to the locals gossip about what’s happening in town.

From here on, these are the experiences I’d like to find, rather than going to the tourist attractions that have the most star ratings. I’m trying to find good ways to reach out to locals to foster this kind of cultural exchange. Any suggestions?

Here are some photos from the day. I’ve been trying to avoid taking photos that you could see in any old post card, so I hope you enjoy.

After this morning learning that our train was a bus and that bikes are not allowed on buses, we had to ride 120km from Antequera to Granada. We’d hoped to fast forward a bit today due to being exhausted from all the climbing over the past few days. We were not mentally up for the ride, so we were a bit grumpy, but we trudged on and made it to Granada. Given our tiredness, we decided to have two rest days here instead of just the one we’ve been planning. We also decided to try to average out to 80km/day instead of 100km for the near future. This might put us behind schedule a bit and put some pressure on our visa limits, but we should be fine and can take a train if needed.

We learned that they are in process of building a high speed rail between Antequera and Granada, hence the railway closure. Seems odd they don’t have a solution for bikes though, given the excellent bike friendliness of the MD trains in Spain so far.

We ride through lots of olive farms with occasional glimpses of the snow-capped peaks near Granada.

Near Granada, we rode through fields of trees that are farmed for something? Not sure what, but some swaths were recently cleared.

What we’ve seen of Granada’s tapas scene is a bit different from Seville. Most places give a free tapas with each drink, but out of the three places we tried, only one was any good. The town where we had lunch outside of Granada allowed you to pick which free tapas you’d like, and it was much better and way cheaper than in the city. We preferred the à la carte tapas in Seville and will try to find that again here. Any suggestions for a good place?

We have tickets to Alhambra tomorrow, and we’ve got to do some laundry again…

Well we got up late and decided to take the train to Granada instead of riding. We looked up the schedule and found a bike friendly train (all of the MD trains allow bikes – média distância), rode to the station, and bought a ticket. Only after all this, the ticket agent told me in Spanish that it’s a bus, not a train, so we can’t take our bikes. I couldn’t understand why the official Renfe train schedule app shows a train, as well as Google, and my other scheduling app, but that’s what he said. He had an explanation but I couldn’t understand. Maybe it’s out of service today.

Anyway, April Fool’s to us, we are riding 125km to Granada!

In retrospect, I think it was today’s ride we should have been worried about, not yesterday’s. The nonstop steep rolling hills and 30+°C temperatures had us walking up hills at times and taking lots of breaks. I had to walk my bike up the 15+% grades before Steve did, he wanted to make sure I said that if I posted this picture!

But we saw some amazing scenery including Caminito del Rey and lots of beautiful countryside and farmland.

Our campground butts up against The Torcal De Antequera, giving a beautiful backdrop to our campsite. The rest of the campground is not that great, cold showers, grumpy people staring at us, and no toilet seats on the potties. But dinner at the restaurant on site was welcomed and tasty.

Tried a Netherlands take on a Mexican beer. It was pretty strange.

Also tasted a raw olive from the trees near our tent. Kind of taste like sour grapes, won’t make that mistake again. Hope I don’t get sick.

Tomorrow we may ride to Antequera and spend some time there and take the train to Granada so we have more time in both cities to do some sightseeing, skipping another 120km riding through farmland. As we decided at the beginning of our tour, it’s not about cycling every mile (I mean, kilometre); it’s about experiencing the world by bicycle.

Although we’ve been having some amazing experiences, I feel like I haven’t been living in the moment as much as on our last tour. I think part of that is due to having to figure out accommodations on the fly every few days, whereas last time we had them all figured out ahead of time. Constantly going from planning to doing modes has been a bit exhausting mentally. Not sure of the solution, but I’ve been slacking lately and have no idea where we’ll be sleeping after our two nights in Granada…

(sorry if some of my posts are not showing up right away; our internet in the country has been spotty, so I’ve been writing blog posts to be queued up)

On the ferry from Morroco to Spain the other day, there was a young guy standing in line behind us. He was a Caucasian kid, but his skin was darker than most Latinos, probably from time spent in the sun. He was wearing robes that were maybe made of linen, and his bag was some kind of hand knit back pack. His clothes and hands were dirty. He spoke perfect English with an American accent, and sticking out of his backpack were two half-torn baguettes, looking a little stale. Occasional wafts of pungent but not repulsive body odor lingered in the air wherever he walked. He wasn’t poor; he’d had enough money to pay for the 67€ each way ferry ride.

As he stood there rolling a joint of some kind, he said to the lady in line in front of him, “hey would you like some bread?” His eyes were curious and friendly, and he made and held direct eye contact with me and others, even after you looked away. The lady ignored him, and I looked away.

On the crowded boat, we had chosen a seat, and he approached us asking if he could sit next to us. Someone was already there, we truthfully told him no, and he moved somewhere else.

I realized that his presence was making a lot of people, myself included, uncomfortable, and I was quick to label him a weirdo. But after some reflection, I asked myself, who am I to be so judgmental about this happy-go-lucky and polite guy, freely offering his own food to others, and enjoying his ferry ride to another continent? I’ll bet he has a really interesting story to tell about how he got here.

Isn’t this what many others must think of us, as we ride around in sweaty, stinky Spandex cycling clothes and walk into local cafes to order coffees in bad Spanish? And yet, most of the people in these places are welcoming to us, even if they may look a bit curious or surprised.

I feel like I missed an opportunity, and next time I met someone like this, I will welcome him and ask his story.

Today was the ride to Ronda, relatively short but with a mountain to climb through amazingly scenic hillside villages.

Wasn’t super steep, so we got in a rhythm and got to the top. It hurt the worst after we had to much to eat at lunch. I tried the “callos”, an Andalucian tripe stew that was good and hearty.

Checked into our campground, showered, setup tent, and then walked the 2km to Ronda, where we met up with an old friend of mine who used to be a Palm developer back in the day. He and his business partner moved to Spain, and they joined us to show us around Ronda and have some beers and catch up.

Off to bed, lots of sight seeing to do tomorrow, as we ride through Ronda again and then El Chorro to Antequera.

I hope every day will be like today…

It started off a bit rough with a 350m climb up to a field of wind turbines with side winds so fierce we had to walk a few km of it, after being literally blown off the road a couple of times. But after that we spent most of the day riding through farmland in mostly sunny comfortable weather.

Lunch was a tuna fish sandwich with manchego cheese that we made from a supermarket and ate on the side of the road to the bemusement of a few people walking by.

We were really enjoying a section of dedicated bike lane through the country when suddenly the air was filled with white spray from a bird above us. I (Tim) ended up with the bulk of it on me. I guess it was bound to happen eventually, only the second time in my life. Blech!

The rest of the ride was enjoyable, even knowing that tomorrow’s ride to Ronda is 3 times as much climbing. We passed through Los Angeles (not that one), and climbed up to our hillside home for the evening at a lovely RV park sandwiched between pastures of sheep and cows. The campground has an on site restaurant. We were the only guests except for a few locals at the bar. Our waitress spoke only a few words of English, and we had a really fun time laughing and all trying to speak each other’s language. The food was delicious home-style cooked Spanish food; we just ordered whatever she recommended – a salad, a tasty chicken and potato dish, and a tart for dessert. Halfway through dinner, the owner spent 20 minutes figuring out how to evict two birds from inside, which we applauded.

In parts of Spain it’s been difficult to get a smile out of strangers, but in this area, we’ve encountered a lot of super friendly and welcoming people!

Everywhere seems to have a non-alcoholic beer for Steve!

Night…

Morocco spoke to me a bit more than I expected. This is a place I want to come back to and understand more of, but in a way where I can avoid all the annoying “false guides”.

We made the purposeful decision to do our own self-guided tour, and it was the absolute right decision. Rather than be encased in an air conditioned hermetically sealed bus with dozens of other tourists seeing the same things that every tourist sees, we got ourselves happily lost in the Medina; stumbled upon dead end alleys with beautiful flowers, random kitties, and friendly locals; had a whole restaurant to ourselves enjoying live music and a cous cous dish; sipped mint tea from a cafe overlooking the Strait of Gibraltar; people (and traffic) watched on Avenue Pasteur while enjoying the delicious fruit smoothies known as a panache; bought delicious pastries at random in some bakeries by just pointing at things that looked good; wandered around the Kasbah; shopped fresh strawberries and other fruit in the meandering hectic busy streets; practiced my French with various shop keepers; stumbled into a bar for a beer, where the hospitality was honest and welcoming – the bartender bent over backwards trying to understand our request and invited us to enjoy several complimentary appetizers, making us feel like an honored guest; walked along the beach with its new construction going on and with men renting camel and horseback rides on the beach.

Of course, we did get hassled by quite a few of the “false guides”, coming up to us offering friendly advice at first and then demanding money for the advice or their families. Usually a firm “no thank you” in Arabic would do the trick, but one fellow followed us walking for half a mile until Steve finally gave in and gave him the rest of our pocket change (we had no use for the local currency anyway). I feel for the situation of these folks who feel that they have to act dishonestly in order to make a living, but it does leave a small scar on this otherwise beautiful city. We knew this was the trade off for doing a self-guided tour, and it was never so annoying that we regretted that decision.

We are happy to be back in Spain tonight; though everything feels so mundane here by comparison. We’ve made the decision to take 4 days instead of 3 to get to Granada (we were going to train part of it), and camp the next 3 nights, going at a comfortable pace, as we get into more hilly terrain. We’ve both felt too rushed the past week or so, so it will be nice to take some more time to smell the roses.

(Despite how they look, these small fried fish were absolutely delicious! A mild white fish, tender and juicy. Anyone know what they are, precious?)

It was a fucking needle! In the road. Go figure…