Paris

All week, I have been trying to get up and go to bed earlier to slowly move into Spain’s timezone. Yesterday, I got up at 4:30 am congratulating myself on my brilliant plan! Now, 24 hours later in Paris with only 2 hours of sleep, I am doubting the brilliance of my plan.

We are finally on the last leg of our journey, a short, two hour flight from Paris to Malaga. It was looking like our trip was going to fall apart with the closing of the European airspace following the eruption of the Eyjafjallajokul volcano in Iceland. Flights through Paris have only been flying a few days, and it was only Thursday that flights started flying out of Sweden again, allowing Jen & Rich to join us.

Malaga

After weeks of planning my packing list and paring it down to the bare essentials, the fates have decided to test my resolve and leave me with even less. Everyone’s bikes and gear have arrived, except for my panniers which are off on their own little trip around Europe without me. If they don’t decide to join me in Spain, I will be travelling very light! The earliest my bags may find me again will be at the end of the ride tomorrow. If they don’t show up then, our next booked hotel is not until we reach Granada on the 28th.

After booking into the hotel in Malaga, we sat in the sun on a patio across the street for lunch and a couple of beer. It was afternoon siesta, the sun was high and the city was both lazy and quiet, so we took the opportunity to unbox and build the bikes in the street. As I pumped the last few pounds of pressure into my tires, there was a terrific explosion that echoed between the buildings causing me to jump back with ears ringing. Windows opened up and down the street and a crowd gathered as Dave, Mari and Juliette broke out laughing at me.

Juliette and Mari as we put the bikes together

Across from our hotel

Once the bikes were together, we took a quick ride through town so that I could pick up some bike shorts and a riding shirt. We then twisted our way through the narrow cobbled streets down to the beach for a quick swim in the Mediterranean. Next, it was a back to the hotel for a quick shower and clothes washing before meeting up with Jen and Rich.

Washed and scrubbed, we headed into the streets of the old city center and found a tapas bar on a narrow street by a beautiful church with oranges growing in front. Red flowers spilled down the ancient stone walls across from us. We spent the remainder of the evening drinking cervesas, eating tapas and watching the countless people. Stately older women in gold and lace, beautiful young women in teasingly short skirts, men with accordions playing for and sometimes annoying the crowds; all walking past as the sun set into the evening.

Searching for a tapas bar

The view from our table