We awoke to yet another day but, oh, what is this ... sun? Indeed yes, for the skies had cleared and the sun was out (as is its wont). It was really quite hot, so it was certainly time for the shorts and t-shirt only affair (wish I had taken my Oceana top as I think the dual combo of type black lycra shorts and tight black lycra top with lapels might just have been a winner) - we looked like proper cyclists in our gear.
Out of the campsite we joined the main road again and carried onto Olite, which sports a rather dashing castle in the Navarre style (or at least thats how I view it). Onwards and onwards, with the wind behind us, and we had finally found good roads in Spain for cycling. The weather was so good and the cycling so much better that I almost forgave the devious Spainish transport departmant for its dodgy road "planning". We cycled at a pace that was fast but so easy, some 16mph and before too long we had done 20 miles and I hadn't even felt it. Fantastic! It was like flying.
The most noticeable thing about the whole day was the scent of plants that mingled in the air giving it the sweet mediterranean smell that I instantly associated in my mind with memories of going to Portugal and Greece so many years ago - so much so that I wasn't sure which one was which in my head. The smell, the air, warm sun on my legs, everything seemed designed to make me feel more alive than I ever had. I feel sorry for all those people in cars, for even with their windows down they couldn't have felt how glorious the entire day was.
We reached the town of Carcastillo before midday and it looked like we would make the journey to Zaragoza in one day (which is what we had planned to do). It was then that I made a small map error and cycled the wrong way up a road away from our destination, I only figured this out after we had cycled up a hill someway and realised that the valley that should have been on our right was in fact on our left, we had gone up the wrong side of the hill. However, not to be put down by such an error and not to make the small but steep climb up the hill a pointless venture I noticed a small road that followed a river south further ahead that would take us back on the right track.
It was in fact slightly further up the road than I had thought, and it wasn't actually a river nor a proper road, it was in fact an access road for utility vehicles to a canal. But it was on the map and I knew where it went so we sailed along this road for some hour and half or so, crystal blue water glistening in the concrete basin of the canal and our bikes making the most of the flat if somewhat rough road. Finally we made it to the town of Sadaba, where we stopped to have lunch.
Next we raced down to Ejea, a trip that was far shorter than I had expected and we looked to be making good time, though Zaragoza would not be reached that day and Danny made the call to get as far as we could but camp early rather than try to get to the city at night. So we stopped in a Lidls in Ejea and stocked up on water and tasty foods. We spent sometime in Ejea looking for the tourist info office, for it was well sign-posted from the centre of the town, but to no avail for (as Danny was to find out the next day) the plucky Spainish had decided that the best way to support tourism in this part of Navarre was to have a sign for the tourist office pointing - the opposite way to where the office actually was. In fact, the tourist office could almost be seen from the sign if you stood underneath it and ignored where it was pointing. Almost, but not quite as good as the Tourist Office in La Reole, but definately in the top five worst signposted tourist offices in Europe (we are making a list).
We cycled out of Ejea aiming to camp wild somewhere in the hills to the east. However, we had barely got 5km down the road before Danny noticed something rather disturbing about my back carrier on my bike, it seemed to be dangerously leaning to one side. In fact it was completely fubar, the stand connecting it to the back forks had broken, snapped completely on one-side. There was no way that this was a safe thing to cycle on, there was no telling when it would break completely. Danny spotted a little wall on the road side, that shielded a small field from the view of the road and we stopped down there for the night. Feeling slightly guilty that I had ruined our trip a bit with the crappy bike, I cycled off in search of a bit of extra food for breakfast. Things were not going well for me and my bike, it seems that as soon as one thing is fixed something else breaks.
I returned and we slept well, sustained, psychologically speaking, by chocolate. The plan for tomorrow was to somehow get a bike shop in Ejea to get a new carrier on my bike, and if that failed we were in a bit of trouble. Zaragoza was so close, less than an hours car journey away, but for us on our bikes (and especially mine) it was an almost impossible goal.
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3 comments:
I was wondering, do you write this stuff out by hand at the end of the day, or do you write it from memory in chunks whenever you're near a computer. Either way, tis good stuff.
chunks when near a computer, so I'm literally drawing this stuff from memory from weeks ago. I try to write it without drawing from experiences that chronologically happen later in the trip, but its difficult. But essentially it all comes out in big ramble as I try to think of all the things I thought of on that day (it helps that each day is essentially rather different and I can use the map to remind of where we've been and by extension what we did and what we saw).
I'm impressed, when I tried to do that writing about my America trip it just got so horrifically overlong that by the time I was about two days into the story I'd forgotten most of the details.
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