Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Prita, happy birthday to yoooooou!

We´re in Bilbao, city of art and decent croissants, celebrating Prita´s birthday! Happy birthday Beautiful.

Sean

Cordoba, the end of Andalucia in sight ...

Well, it´s hot. Really, really hot. Even early in the morning the pavement sizzles - well, almost. We are in Cordoba, whcih was the seat of the Caliphate of Al-Andalus when Andalucia was ruled by the Moors. It is now a rather pleasant small city. What brings the tourists is the Mezquita, which I kept calling the mosquito until Prita asked me to stop. It is a large mosque with the most delicate columns shaped to represent palm trees, topped with reddish and cream patterns and carvings, the whole would be a beautiful, open space, apparently an attempt by this caliphate to bring in a more democratic worship than that of the damascus caliphate.

Would be, except that after the reconquista, they stuck a cathedral in the middle. Yep, in the middle. Didn´t knock it down, just plonked one into the space. It´s quite bizarre. Aerial photos are almost surreal - the flat roof of the mosque and then in the middle it gives way to the classic shape of a cathedral roof, steeple, etc. Despite this, the mosque is still beautiful, and the tiling of the mqtada where the imam would have prayed was enchanting, delicate floral motifs.

Also in Cordoba we had our first experience of Flamenco, the Andalucian passion (or so said the brochure). At first I thought this was going to be another òverpriced tourist rip off, complete with "one free drink", being your choice of watered down beer, sangria or wine ... but it was enchanting, the two guitars and the two men sang first, and then the dancers, stamping and whirling, staccato and then flowing. All of this in an outdoor courtyard in the warm spanish night made it a beautiful experience.

Cordoba was one of the more low key tourist cities, and I loved wandering around the city, the bridge with a winged and haloed victory angel and ruins of water mills in the river was spectacualr as the sun set.

From Cordoba we had decided to end our Andalucian odyssey and head for more northerly and hopefully cooler climes ...

Granada, city of the Pomegranate

Well, Granada inspires. It is an incredible city, one I would vist again. I have to say though, the little history of the place has made me dislike Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand - architects of the reconquista and driving the last moors from spain. They lost a lot in their dogged and puritan pursuit of catholicism.

We spent our first day here orienting ourselves to the city and staying in a truly awful pensione. We discovered the massive cathedral, the huge and ornate burial site of Isable and Ferdinand, and the beautiful squares of this city. Mind you, they were beautiful because we saw them at 8am, rather than later when they are swarming with tourists! Then we rode slowly up the massive hill toward the fort on top, the alhambra, a place I have wanted to visit forever ... The hill is covered in rich woodlands planted by the Duke of Wellington apparently. It was lovely and cool and it was a delight to be climbing but not in the full sun!

When we reached the top we were apporached by a guard - initally cautious - as Prita noted before, we have not had much luck with authority figures in Spain, he was lovely when we said we were staying at the hotel america, one of only two hotels actually inside the Alhambra.

We droppped our bags, explored our suite (ahhh, I could get used to this ... ) and then explored the town some more before our Arab bath (thanks Tash!) . We had to drag ourselves back to the hotel in our langorous state.

The next day we explored the Alhambra, whcih invovled waiting in along queue and then rushing back to where we had come from for our viewing of the Nasrid palace. This is the apogee of Moorish architecture in SPain, and it was a delight, light filled patios, perfect carvings in every nook and cranny, which would have been richly decorated with paint and gold leaf. The whole is set off by gardens and the tinkle of fountains and pools designed to reflect the architecture. Sadly the lions in the lion courtyard were being restored.

It is hard to describe the delight of being in this light and airy space, filled with artwork and beauty, but always with a sense that this is the decayed remnant of grandeur. What it must have looked like in its heyday is a little difficult to imagine though the Govt seems to have put a lot of work into restoring the gardens and some of the interiors. We loved just wandering around, and it was large enough that even though this place gets apparently 6000 visitors a day, it didn´t feel *too* crowded.

Then after all of that we needed a beer with our lunch - luckily one of the tourist kiosks obliged. Here´s us outside the appropriately named gate of the vine.

After our lovely stay we pakced our bags and headed for Malaga.

Roads are made to be travelled

Most of our days have been so different that it is difficult to sum up our time to date in a pithy sentence.
Being on the bike so much is quite heavenly. It is undoubtably the best way to travel. There are so many good reasons for it, environmental, health etc etc. But the truth is, just having the wind in my hair, and making my way through the country side at such a slow (but not too slow) pace, is reason enough for me. I even adore the difficult ups almost as much as I enjoy the exhilarating downs. The pace is truly perfect for sightseeing (well most of the time if the surface is good and the bike isn´t having a mechanical!)


After leaving Benicarlo we rode for days through the country side by the coast, which consisted of mostly orange trees, filled with huge bunches of juicy sumptuous looking oranges. After oranges came almonds, stone fruit, cherries, and lots of olive groves. It was quite gorgeous. Many times I was tempted to reach out my hand and grab an orange or nectarine. But I was far too worried that there were snipers hidden in the bushes, just waiting for happless passing tourists like myself, foolish enough to touch the forbidden fruit. Actually gunshot noises were not so uncommon to hear, and I was sure they were the tourists silly enough to touch the fruit being picked off one by one.

I don´t adore the busy cities and the traffic in Spain, but actually most of the cars and trucks give us a surprisingly wide berth. A local told us that a professional cyclist was killed when he was hit in the head by a mirror a couple of years ago. Following this event the laws were amended so that vehicles have to give 2 metres space when passing cyclists, and if the road is not wide enough to do so, they must wait. It doesn´t feel like 2 metres when we are passed, but it does feel like a lot more than at home, and usually sufficient.

Valencia was fantastic for riding. At first we hated the over-congested roads but we found lots and lots of bike paths. It was amazing. Big bicycle superhighways with signs and everything. Awesome to be on. The most fantastic part of the city itself is the massive park they have build in the diverted river bed. It is now gardens and a bike path and stadiums, golf courses, parks etc. Really beautiful and peaceful and gorgeous to have right in the centre of town.

Now days we are mostly avoiding cities, and just going through little towns. I think what we miss out on in the cities is more than made up for by the countryside, and not having to put up with the frustration and danger of city traffic.

Shortly after leaving Valencia we decided to leave the coast. While the natural landscape is quite lovely, the effect is destroyed by the massive building developments that line the coastline, the contruction, the industry, the masses of rubbish (everywhere - along all the roads and filling every gutter). Also the crowds and traffic got a bit much. Although the riding became much more demanding (hotter, steeper and very windy), it was a good choice to make. The roads became ever so steep, and progress really slowed. But the climbing and the heat were well worth the awesome views, the quite roads, and the clean mountain air.

The fruit orchids gave way to rice and wine, and then just country side with huge wind turbines (apparenty betwen 30-50 m tall) and kilometres of solar panels. They look very strange but we are very excited by all the clean energy being harnessed. Eventually the country side gave way to desert, lots and lots of hot, windy, desert. It made for some hard riding.

But we eventually made our way to the Sierra Nevada, Spains highest mountain range. The landscape changed from desert to bushy vegetation and the mountains there are truly spectacular. It was by far our favorite bit, although the most difficult cycling just because of the steep climbing and the heat. On our first dayup into the mountains from sea level, it did what felt like the equivalent of Falls Creek twice, in wind and heat, with fully loaded bikes! Slow going, but awesomely spectacular. There was a surprising amount of snow on top, and I found out later that you can ski there up until May (summer really).

The interactions with the locals has been incredibly mixed. Sometimes it is frustrating and negative, like the super vigilant shopping mall security guard that treated us like criminals for carrying our panniers in a shopping trolley through the mall (a trolley we had paid 1 euro for). At other times we have the most wonderful experiences. Like the bike mechanic in Valencia that fixed Sean´s wheel for free and then gave us the number of his pastor and parents in Gibraltor. And a couple of days ago we made a random stop to buy gas when passing through a small country town. Guillermo who served us gave us the gas for free and then took us out for a beautiful lunch. These experiences make us feel very affectionate towards the locals, and mostly forget the ones that are awful.

Till next time... (From Prita, although it appears as posted by Sean).