I am posting my journals backdated to the day I wrote them, so read from bottom up if you have just arrived. Keep checking back, I have two weeks of journals to upload.

We all gathered on our hotel balcony for a breakfast of meat, cheese, bread and juice. We then packed our bikes and rode to the center of town for coffee.

The ride started today by heading back down to the river, then climbing the A-348 towards Torvizcón. It was a busy road, and a long climb. High in the mountains across the valley we could see the high road to Tevélez where we would finally end up today.

At Torvizcón, we turned down toward Tevélez, switch-backing steeply down to the river, then started climbing. The hours wore on and we continued to climb, ever higher with the Mediterranean sun beating down on us and draining us of energy. It took us several hours to cover 14km and about 4000’ of climbing before we had our first, brief descent.     

We crossed the top of the first mountain range and began working our way up the high valley to Tevélez, the highest permanently inhabited town in Spain. It is a stunning white town nestled at the head of a valley below the snow covered peaks of the Sierra Nevada. If anything, it is marred by the tourist busses and the crowds.

In Tevélez, we met a British ex-pat who had settled here. he confirmed that the book Driving Over Lemons is to blame for the influx of new-age hippie drop-outs into Orgiva. He said that they have become a problem “stealing everything that is not nailed down.” He tries not to head down into Orgivia for fear of being mistaken for the wrong kind of ex-pat.

We were sitting in a café in Tevélez expecting a quick 15km descent into Orgiva and another few kilometres into Lanjarón when Dave entered our destination into his GPS and it said it was 42kms to go. I had been planning a 55 to 60km day and since we had already done 43km, this was a bit disconcerting. We thought it must be misrouting, so I entered the route into my GPS and recalculated. It confirmed the distance.

Judging by how hard we worked to get here and the state of everyone, we thought we might have a mutiny on our hands. It was turning into another Prouseâ„¢ epic day! Luckily, after a brief climb out of town, we flew down into Orgiva, giddy with the speed after such a long day. Over 30kms passed in what felt like minutes as we flew down out of the mountains.

We arrived back in Orgiva within sight of our hotel, then climbed the final 7.5kms to Lanjarón. We settled into the Hotel Espania, a beautiful marbled building fading from past glories. Checking in, we weren’t sure if it was a hotel or an old folks home. An old Spanish woman, barely four feet tall, came to greet us and insisted on kissing both Dave and I on each cheek before being dragged away by her daughter.

It was only as we walked through town that it dawned on us that everyone in town was ancient and crippled. Lanjarón is known for its curative waters and is a destination for those seeking a second chance at their youth. It is a sharp contrast to Orgiva, just a few kilometres away.

We found a little bar down an alley for dinner and sat laughing, drinking beer and recovering from a long, hard day. We ate pizzas, cheese and meat until we could barely move, then moved on for a dessert of ice cream, giant sundaes and hot chocolate.

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View Jen & Rich’s post for today.

I am posting my journals backdated to the day I wrote them, so read from bottom up if you have just arrived. Keep checking back, I have two weeks of journals to upload.

Today we are staying at the beautiful Hotel Mirasol on the North side of Orgiva. Our room is one of two on the top floor with a huge red tiled balcony flooded with the afternoon sun. At the other side of our room is a smaller balcony overlooking the narrow street below and the mountains above.

We set off this morning just after 8am and rode along the busy highway to Salobrena where we followed a farmer’s dirt track down toward the beach below the town castle on the cliffs above. In the touristy section by the beach, we found an open café and ate a lazy breakfast of baguettes and espressos before heading back up through town and on our journey.

We worked our way up into the city of Motril where we stopped at a supermarket to load up on lunch meat, cheese, baguettes, chocolate and drinks. North of Motril, the road slowly wound its way up into the mountains with brief cooling descents. In the morning, we climbed over 1000’ before an exciting descent into Vélez de Benaudalla.

From here we climbed past the dam on the reservoir Embalse de Rules before stopping for a huge lunch by the side of the road. We continued to climb through the afternoon, twisting up into the mountains, curving around cliff faces with dizzying drops below us.

At Pago Y Benisalte, we turned north again, crossing the bridge over the river just before a shepherd led his herd of a few hundred goats across, blocking all traffic. From the river, the road climbed steeply into Orgiva, the setting of the book Driving Over Lemons: An Optimist in Spain which I am now reading.

Rosemary, thyme and lavender grow wild everywhere and the scent as we are riding is heavenly. We pass trees laden with ripe oranges and lemons, tempting us to stop and pick them. Orgiva is a pretty little Andalucian town, but it is overrun by Brits, probably because of the popularity of the book which chronicles the lives of a British couple that drop out and buy a rural Alpujarrian farm and settle here to create a new life.

My bags were waiting for me at the hotel. It is a relief, but I find myself looking at all this stuff and wondering why I need it all? Each night, I wash my clothes in the sink and they are dry for the next day. A second set is nice in case they don’t dry by morning and the rain gear, unneeded now, may be important, but as always, I feel that I have brought too much. There is a joy to living simply with few possessions.

Orgiva is such a strange town. I don’t know if it is a direct result of the book, or a story and idea from the book three times removed, but the town has become a refuge for society’s dropouts and mis-contents. Kids fresh from the London scene dumpster dive for off-date food and the smell of incense and cannabis wafts through the streets.

I doubt any of these people actually read Driving Over Lemons. It is a book about starting over in an idyllic rural setting, but it is also a story about hard work and a tough life that is masked by the humour and warmth of the book. It is as if the youth we see know of it as a place to drop out, but the original reasons and ethos are long since lost.

After showering and cleaning up, we went for a walk through town, stopped for a beer, then headed to the supermarket for tomorrow’s supplies. We then retired to our patio to enjoy the early evening sun, a few more beer, sausages and cheese.

Evening found us at a patio restaurant in an alley in the center of town. We ate local dishes, drank sangria and contemplated the theft of lemons and oranges from the local trees.

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View Jen & Rich’s post for today.

View Dave & Mari’s post about the last few days.

I am posting my journals backdated to the day I wrote them, so read from bottom up if you have just arrived. Keep checking back, I have two weeks of journals to upload.

At 8 am this morning, we discovered what chirros are. We found a small café near the hotel for breakfast. Street cleaners were working in the square and young partiers were stumbling home after a long night.

Breakfast started with the recommended chirros, long thin strings of doughnut batter strait out of the deep fryer. Jennie was smiling and watching the guy working the fryer work. He noticed her and a few minutes later three heart shaped chirros arrived on a plate for the ladies.

We rounded out breakfast with espresso, cafe con leche and fried ham and cheese sandwiches. Outside, several people stopped to inspect our bicycles, including one police officer.

After breakfast, we threaded our way out of the city through small one-way streets. We headed down to the beach and started following it East along the coastal roads, beach promenades and dirt tracks. The ride along the coast was beautiful, but dotted with tacky strips of beach condos and apartments.

Further out, in Torre del Mar, we stopped for another coffee and some fruit. We sat in a bar on the beach and watched local duathletes transition from running to riding.

Just before Nerja, the road started to climb into the hills. We stopped for lunch at a beautiful patio restaurant perched high on a cliff overlooking the sea. The fruit or the lunch didn’t sit well with Jennie though, she became very ill. We rode on slowly, Jennie pushing herself and us worrying over her. Eventually, Juliette took her panniers and slowly Jennie started to get some strength back.

One thing I love about bike touring is the places you find that you would never see otherwise. We came to a long tunnel in the road and didn’t feel like digging out our lights to ride through. To get around, we followed the small old road that climbed and around the cliffs over the sea. It was a beautiful twisting road with stunning views, few cars and white villas looking out over the Mediterranean.

From there, we flew down to La Herradura, then one last climb and a twisting descent into Almuñécar and we were at our hotel. The hotel Casablanca is a pretty pink building right on the plaza by the beach. We arrived to a message that there was some confusion about my bags. They had arrived in Malaga, but they had not sent them on to our hotel. The only way I would see my bags was if I had a location to send them to tomorrow, so I grabbed the guidebook and we started calling hotels in Orgiva until we could get a reservation.

I must admit, a small part of me is disappointed that my bags were found. While I look forward to a change of clothes, I was also looking forward to this light nomadic lifestyle with so few possessions. On the other hand, after living with little more than the clothes on your back, if only for a couple of days, the prospect of a whole pannier full of possessions feels like an unimaginable bounty.

For dinner, we decided to head inland. We turned off the road at a sculpture park and walked through Roman ruins. We then climbed through a maze of narrow cobbled streets lined with whitewashed houses. Eventually, we found the restaurant we were looking for, but it was closed, so we worked our way back to the beach where we ate, drank and watched the sun set.

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View Jen & Rich’s post for today.

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

In a few hours, Juliette and I will be loading our bike boxes and panniers into the car, driving to the airport and flying off for two glorious weeks riding around southern Spain. Dave & Mari are flying with us, and Jen & Rich are flying down from Sweden to meet us.

It has been a very busy and event filled winter. I have only now managed to get all of the photos I have taken since last August up into the photo albums. I have added four new albums and hundreds of photos.

• August Long Weekend at the Chalet – For the August long weekend, we had all of our friends down to the chalet to ride and hang out.
• Fall 2009 – Photos from the fall, riding up in Collingwood and Thanksgiving with friends at the Chalet
• Christmas & New Year 2009 – Christmas and New Year photos from Beach Blvd, England and at the Chalet
• Winter 2010 – Photos from the winter at the chalet including several weekends with friends and a long weekend when my Dad, Doris, my brothers and their partners came down. Also includes my birthday in Meaford and Juliette’s Around the Bay Race.

Now that spring is here, we are really starting to appreciate the move to the new house. Being so close to the beach is wonderful. Every morning, Juliette and I get up early, make coffee and take Daisy for a walk on the beach to watch the sun coming up. I also love riding into work along the beach path. Juliette also just found out that she is moving to the Burlington Campus of the university, so we will be able to ride to work together!

Before I go, I would also like to send out huge thanks to Jen & Franco for taking Daisy into their home for the two weeks we are away. When I dropped her off this morning, she quickly forgot who I was as she tore around the house playing with Cusco and Lima. We are going to have one exhausted and happy dog when we get home. I just hope she doesn’t wear Jen & Franco out.

Check back soon, I will try to post from Spain and there will be plenty of pictures when I return.

¡Adiós