dst. (km)
Today 22.59
Trip 2032.9
Avg 6.1km/hr
Riding 3hr 33’ 33”

Happy birthday to me.

Stuck in a town I don’t like, and I can’t really figure out how to get away from quick enough.

11:30 and I’ve been rolling gently around town, I checked out of the hostel and got a pleasant surprise paying the bill, less than I expected, then went back and forth between bus and train stations, neither making very much sense to me so off to the tourist information and found that the next train to Barcelona is on Sunday, so I booked a bus ticket for this evening.

After a few restorative coffees I rode up to the Alcozabar along what is possibly the steepest road so far, I couldn’t see anywhere to park the bike so didn’t go inside. From the top of the hill I could look down on a rehabilitation area for Saharan animals with lots of antelope type things. Have I said how hot and dry it is here?

Then rode down and along the beach foreshore for another coffee or two and tried to ring my parents but the phone rejected both my credit cards as not valid. With heart in mouth I went back to town and used the card at an autoteller so I guess he phone system just didn’t like my cards.

Large pizza for lunch near the ferry dock then once more along the beach and coasted along staring at my computer to watch the odometer tick over 9,000.0 km. More coffee, spent the afternoon watching the beach, the misty hills, the girls and the world.

7.30 pm and I found the bus and got a complete telling off in vehement Spanish from a bus driver who didn’t want my bike on his bus. I tried to explain that the tourist office had said it was OK and he relented to the extent that I had to completely strip the bike and stuff it all into a tiny little compartment next to the engine. I’m not sure that the door to the compartment closes properly so my bike may end up somewhere along the highway. Thinking about it, the only irreplacable thing in there is my last notebook, so next time I get access to my bag it is going into my bumbag.

During the early evening we drove through the desolate areas where all the old spaghetti westerns were filmed.

Went to sleep after staring at mile after mile of ugly concrete coastal development.