Lessons from the Andalucian Hills
Trust. Your. Instincts.
Or ignore them, and end up in the back of a Spanish man’s van hurtling through the mountains in a desperate bid to get back to the hotel in time for the wedding you flew out here for.
I started the ride super excited, I love discovering a new place by bike.
The route should have been 100km with 2700m climbing, which given I was on the clock I knew would be cutting it fine to get back in time.
And as the pictures show, it was worth discovering…
The route I’d had planned for a while, took me from the Elba Estepona Gran Hotel where we were staying and up into the mountains to a weather station 1,527m up.
From there I’d carry on into the Sierra Bermeja hills behind, dropping into remote Andalucian backcountry.
The plan started to slide from the moment I hit the first 10% slope and I realised I was not on a good day here.
But, stubbornly, I crawled to the top.
Occasionally stopping to point and shoot at some pretty mint views.
And then, dropping down to a crossroads, I had a choice.
You always have a choice
Descend back to the hotel, get some lunch, go to the wedding with plenty of time.
Or, head into the hills far away from where I was staying to a remote town that may or may not have a supermarket I could get a Fanta at.
Obvs chose the latter…
The remote Spanish town
And of course, I got a puncture in that town.
Panic puncture repairs are never good.
A deadline looming and a clock that refused to wait while I got myself sorted, just kept ticking away to ‘you’ve got to be back in 3 hours, 2 and a half hours…”
And the tiny, tiny bit of metal I’d missed that re-punctured the only spare inner tube I had.
Well, that’s that then, accept my fate that I will miss a wedding because, as a cycling travel professional, I couldn’t mend a puncture whilst on holiday.
My knight in shining sunglasses
And then, emerging from the tiny streets of a whitewashed sleeping village was a saviour in the form of a chainsmoking Spanish man that really did feel like a side-quest character in a video game.
‘How much to Estepona?’ I put into Google Translate
‘660 Euros’ the speech recognition replied with
‘No no no’ the lovely Spanish man clocked what had happened - ’60 Euros’
You sir, have a deal.
A hair-raising drive
Bundled into the back a bike that had gone from finely tuned to completely useless in the blink of an eye.
Message to the other half to say if I don’t make it back, it’s been nice knowing you.
All’s well that…
But we did make it.
My guy was a retired taxi driver.
He was always going to deliver me back with even enough time to eat something before we hurtled back out for what was in the end a very lovely wedding.
Lesson learned
“I think we’ve learned some lessons today haven’t we?” my other half said with a wry smile after she paid the man with cash she’d had to get up from the sunbed to go and fetch.
We have, I nodded.
I’m not sure we have though…
