Category: Spain 🇪🇸

Pretty tired and lethargic this morning, it usually takes an hour from waking to riding. Coffee in my stomach I perked a little. Then a georgeous down hill from camp spot to café. So out of the Sierra Nevada and into the Sierra de Baza.I had tomatoes on toast and a coffee, then I had it all again.As I was looking for my route I spotted a Pastaleria and promptly popped in for a pain au chocolate. I also bought 2 loaves of bread and some sweet rolls for the journey. I searched but couldn’t find a supermarket.The ride was up and up again. 95% off road.I ate the sweet rolls I ate the bread.But the heat and successive climbing were taxing and finally I climbed a 2000meter pass and sped down some singletrack into Baza. It’s Hostal Casa Grande (Tel: 610927023 reservas@hostalcasagrande.es) for me tonight. I have successfully purchases some food for the on going journey.Slow to get organised but I get there eventually now to try and find where I am going to stow it.I was real shattered when I got to the pension. I showered and lay unable to move or think for a good hour. And walking to the supermarket was a struggle. I would pretend it’s going to be flat tomorrow but that’s just a joke.

I left Camping Trevélez having had a cup of coffee. My plan was to ride into Trevélez and have some breakfast. (Idiot move 1) Somehow I had a coffee but no food. Then the route turned off road and rough, I lifted the bike and just trudged up and over rocks, may be half an hour then I alternated 100meters of walk/lifting and 100meters of cycling. Eventually the rocky path turned into the most fantastic gravel fire road following a switch back route twisting and turning with the terrain.

I knew the route turned off this path and took some wondrous single track winding it’s way to the road. By now about 11.30am. The route turned left, I looked right and saw some houses but still turned left (Idiot move 2) as I pootle on I looked back to see a small village probably selling food and ffee, I carried on the way I was going. (Idiot move 3)Again I went on a gravel fire track. Eventually stopping for lunch at about 13.30. Luckily I had a loaf of bread purchased the day before, no other food. I ate half of it.There were water fountain along the way so at least my water was constantly topped up.

For the rest of the day the route was completely off road, no shops, no people. Just sunshine and gravel. I started to fade at about 17.30 my legs only just turning each successive up hill took all my might. Eventually finding a camp spot 2000meters up, at 19.30. I am now happily chomping on the other half of loaf, savouring each mouthful.

Coffee will get me to a town tomorrow, there is one quite close and down hill.That’s a salutary lesson for me.

Loitering in Órgiva for an hour or to to meet up with people eve have multiple breakfasts.

My route winds on the road past my favourite house from APITS. I don’t past without looking it would only make me unhappy.

But my road travelled up and didn’t stop, past Panpameria past Bubión,

past Calileira then I hit a gravel road, no cars from now on. The path wound up through conifer forests and the pungent tang of pine sap hit my nostrils.

Stacks of cut wood were all tge way up the road

I passed a group of 5 Norwegian walkers, I asked if this terrain was flat for them, they laughed and shook their heads, they were stopping at Trevélez in about 7 km. I opted for an early stop, well 17.30, not really that early but it was a late start.

Andreas came in just after me, he is walking the same route.

We are at 1612 meters here, the sun has gone behind the mountain and it will be colder tonight. Best I put on my long johns.

I have spent the last week filming for A Place in the Sun we searched for a property, unfortunately nothing came to fruition. The experience was great and I spent some time with my son Luke and nothing can be bad about that. The feeling when the camera crew is not focusing on you, having been the centre of attention for a week is deflating. I’m sure I will get over it.

The centre for our research has been Lanjareón. Órgiva is only 10km down the road. So filming finished, I said goodbye to Luke loaded up the bike and wound my way to Órgiva. This allows me to make sure my bike setup is good. Already my campsite has good marks and only €10 a night.

So I am now relaxing. I do not have any food or any gas canisters for cooking.

I got to the campsite resturant at 8pm. Opened my wallet to discover A derisory amount of cash. I explained I was staying for 2 days and the bartender brought food and hardly charged. A heart warming act.

It seems a teenage party is going on at the resturant, loud music till late.

I am due to get onto a route that I have found on Ride with GPS, it’s mainly off road and stretches from Cadiz to Valencia. I will join it just north of Orgiva. I think my next ride will only be up.

This is where it all starts to fall apart.

I had had a fantastic ride down to Motril, a cup of coffee and a few jealous making snaps and banter to my friends. I set the bike aiming towards Orgiva.

Twists and turns through Motril and then off the mainish road down to the roundabout. Turning left, I was indicating to come off the roundabout, a car slowing to stop on my right hand side, but the driver had not seen me and accelerated into my side, pain, I was flying and knew it wouldn’t end well, I landed head then my back.

The pain in my leg and back was excruciating and blood was gushing out of my leg onto the ground… hmmm that’s not good. Cars stopping, people swarming, Spanish from many different mouths, I could only feel pain. I was not knocked out, I looked up to see my beloved Reilly being moved to the side of the road, my light, for visibility, forlornly blinking at me. The driver of the car was crying, I was crying (I do have a history of crying). The police were there she was admitting culpability. Ambulance called, all the emergency services were fantastic, we gesticulated our way to the hospital.

There I was treated to stitches in my leg and multiple x rays to my ribs. The prognosis was….. nothing broken.

I took a taxi to the police lockup, collected my bike and took a taxi back to my apartment.

Battered and bruised, I forgot to get a police report number but remembered to get a taxi receipt.

Ripped shirt, ripped base layer, ripped gloves, dented helmet, ripped shorts, scuffed shoes broken Garmin 1030……. socks ok.

Now I’m ok while I stay here but as many of you know I am of no fixed abode when in UK so nowhere to rehabilitate, No doctor to go to. Nowhere to get off the plane and go to.

I’m also supposed to be going to India on 18th Jan……… it’s a fucking mess and I am miserable.

I camped on a stark hill behind a derelict barn. Pitching my tent in the lush green grass. Ticks, I thought. It wasn’t much after 5 but the sun was setting and I knew once it dropped behind the hill cold would set in. It’s always great to have a wall to lean the bike against (easier to unpack and to pack).

I couldn’t be bothered hanging around I dived into the tent. Changed into my night clothes (merino long John’s and a long sleeved base layer, yes yes that was merino also). I have a cooker, I have a pot, I have a bit of food I could cook, but I just cut 4 slices of cheese and 4 slices of salami, chewed them slowly savouring the Spanish taste. And that was my evening meal.

A fitful night tossing and turning, I read on and off for lots of it, steps and noises outside kept my eyes open…. I hope animals. The slight slope of the ground caused me to slide to the bottom of the tent and force the inner and outer together causing condensation to soak my sleeping bag.

Eventually daybreak came to my rescue, I did sleep but not a great deal. Slid into my now 4 days unwashed shorts and shirt, shrugged into my ever used overshoot and went out to greet the day.

A glory to behold, mist covering the valleys and mountains shining in a multitude of different colours. A long sigh of the joy of every day.

My tent was sodden, I rammed it into it’s bag… I’ll deal with that tonight I hope. Wiping the rat shit off the bike (hmmm that must have been what the noise was). Filled each bag with its specific piece of equipment.

As I rounded the front of the barn I saw a car and lorry and 2 guys emptying the lorry, dodgy business, probably, I just ride on by.

20 mins later I got into a cafe for breakfast coffee, toast rubbed with garlic and tomatoes lashings of olive oil and Pinga… the guys in the cafe recommended it.

I rode on in 20 km stints stopping once for some more cheese and rolls. No lunch just water and a litre of milk.

When I entered Osune, rain started to fall. I just went to the nearest hotel.

Tent hanging, sleeping bag hanging. But I still just eat bread and cheese in the corner of the room.

Restaurants galore. I suppose I quite like being hard on myself.