Pre-ride on Boxing Day

29.12.10 Ramble

29.12.10 Ramble

Here’s a double-tap. I went to the smoky internet bar last night with the intention of sending the 27.12 edition, but got caught up in searching for flights for the rest of the trip. After a couple of hours and a pint of Estrella Levante pilsner ( had to temper my intake as I was driving the rentacar) I got us flights all the way up to my return to Boston. Here’s the basic:

Leaving Alicante (one hour on the highway from Algorfa) at 2130 on January 23^rd , arriving at Gatwick, England around 2330.

Flying out of Heathrow on Jan. 25 at 2040 and arriving Manila on 26 January at 2245, via Abu Dhabi.

Departing Manila April 03 at 1915 hr. changing planes in Abu Dhabi again and landing in London April 04 at 0720.

Flying outta Heathrow April 05 at 1500, and arriving in good ole Boston at 1735 on the 5^th. I am not ignoring the prospect of a screw-over by the Border Bastards, but I expect to spend the night in New Hampshire before grabbing a bus or train for Westbrook on the 6^th. Vamos a ver.

There may be some changes in the itinerary dates, but seeing as each change will cost about $200, I hope there aren’t any.

Today was the last full day on the rentacar, and we tried to use up the half tank of very expensive gasoline. Over here, you pay for the full tank when you rent the car and are told to return it as empty as you can. So we went to Murcia to hit Ikea for large items that are needed for the flat. On the way back there was a stop at the Nacional Policia to pick up Is’ Residencia, the document that makes her an official resident of Spain. With this, she can register at a g.p., get her health card, qualify to pay taxes and all sorts of other fun things. Next trip, I will get my N.I.E. (Numero Identificacion de Extrangero) or Foreigner’s Identification Number-“Your papers, puhleeze!” That and a visa of one sort or another will allow me to stay longer than the current 90 day “tourist” allowance. That’s good, because I don’t want to come over at the end of October and have to return to the Northeast in February. Now that would not be smart.

Some wine info that Dyl asked for. Realize please that these opinions are from the perspective of one who was habitually buying the bottom-dwellers on Hannaford’s wine shelves before this trip. Occasionally, I would slip in to Micucci’s and pick up a couple of $5 bottles and consider them a luxury. Anyway, tonight we tried a €1.15 bottle of Conde de Caralt tinto (red) 2009. It is a Catalunya denominacio d’origen blend of Temperanillo, Garnacha and Monastrell. It was quite good with the baked trout, and reminded me of a Beaujolais Nouveau or a young Valpolicella.

I recently picked up a few more of the €0.99 Fidencio tintos from La Mancha (denominacio d’origen) . This is head and shoulders above the fiver wine from Micucci’s, and considering the exchange rate, is a steal at $1.30. No info on what grape(s) are used, but who cares?

Have one bottle left of the –nope, I don’t, so can’t describe it. Anyway it was a Riserva, tinto, and well worth the €3.50 ish p.p.b. in the case lots we bought back in October.

There are a couple more bottles I picked up for new year’s dinner, so I will report after the fireworks.

Friends invited us to go to a show in another town, but we declined. It was a dinner-do with a show featuring Elvis and Tina Turner impersonators. Well…I’ve seen Tina in the flesh, and don’t want to ruin the memory. Elvis-I wouldn’t walk across the street to see him. Besides, the whole new year’s thing leaves me cold; though this year, after dinner, we will walk to the town square and watch fireworks, claim the fruit basket given to all residents and probably slip into a smoky bar for a carajillo before walking home-all of five minutes’ trek. No need to dodge the carnage on the street.

Hope to post this tomorrow, so am wishing you all a safe, happy new year.

Gaping Hole

27.12.10 Ramble

27.12.10 Ramble

Here’s wishing all of us a happy new year. I hear you’re getting battered with major snow over there-hope it passes here before the 23^rd which is when we fly to London. I think we’ll book the Manila flights for a couple of days after that. Trip insurance? Never bought any, but I think it’s time.

Christmas passed quietly. There was the requisite Eve dash to the big shopping center “Habaneras” in Torrevieja for last-minute thingies and memorable gifts such as a bathmat, shower caddy, rubber spatula and other “luxuries”. Of course I couldn’t get out of there without stopping at the chorizo and cheese departments, a quick dash through candy fro chocolate and Turon de Alicante. I still can’t get over the vast array of delicious-appearing but cholesterol-laden (I guess) foods. And the Mediterranean diet is supposed to be healthy? That must be where the red wine comes in -and what a selection! It is tempting to pick up a few expensive bottles in order to give the varietal report Dylan requested, but we still have a little left from our over-indulgence in Baza. Once that’s gone, I’m tempted to just stay with the €0.95 stuff. Works for me and the curious can come over next year and experience first-hand.

The move into Fontana on the 21st was not without problems. While the vacating Jacksons left about everything necessary (other than perishables) we found that there were no towels. Beach mats, sand toys, corkscrew and all the other necessities of life, but no towels. We used pillowcases and made do with sponge baths, cringing near the portable heaters. Heat/Aircon installation started Wednesday, and ended (more or less) the next. Apparently the builders had not installed some drain tubes properly and condensate from the aircon whould have nowhere acceptable to go. We were presented with three options and naturally had to accept the most expensive, time-consuming and delayed one-that of ordering an assembly like a bilge pump that will operate whenever the condensate level threatens to overflow the yet-to-be-installed drain pan.

Builders seem to be the major scapegoats here, and in many cases, deservedly so. The Fontana builder overextended and went bankrupt-fortunately after this site (1) was completed. There are a few quirks like switches for promised, but unisnstalled lights, short drain tubes, power access ports where there is no power –little things like that. And then there’s the story of the developer who raised big bucks from prospective buyers, built a “luxury vacation condo” and walked away from the four storey shell with the money. When officials inspected (wonder why they didn’t discover the problems earlier) they found that the materials and engineering were unacceptable. Now there is a vacant, un-salable raw concrete shell waiting for demolition by a disappeared builder. Aside from the scams, there are the vacant developments I mentioned earlier. These were victims of the recession, mostly uninhabited and in various stages of completion. It’s hard to drive anywhere and not pass great “urbanizaciones” or burbs with blackened windows, overgrown lawns and debris blowing in the streets. Kind of like ghost towns, though occasionally you find a lighted window. We were told to not even consider the Urbs, as they are burglar-magnets; the security companies having quit due to lack of funds. Sad, but then these were intended to be vacation or retirement homes-presumably bought with discretionary funds.

Throwing in a few photos. One is of a mystery tool I saw at the Castillo Sta. Barbara. I would welcome any clues or guesses. Another is of the gaping bathroom ceiling around which we lived for a couple of days, dodging bare wires, listening to shouted Spanish and holding or asking for the loo to be cleared for a while. Which reminds me of another item to be cured. The toilet seats are not of the highest quality, and have a tendency to crack in a strategically inopportune manner; causing ferocious “bites” to unwary posteriors.

Final shot was taken yesterday morning as I was readying for the Boxing Day ride that didn’t happen. 13C and I suited up and cycled to Studz Bar where the Sunday ride starts and ends. At 1003, I was the only cyclist in the parking lot, so I decided to head for the coast at Guardamar del Segura. The Med was sparkling blue with an offshore breeze causing manes of spray to trail the incoming surf-beautiful, but there were no swimmers. Headed south on the coastal highway and made it to Torrevieja and after a short break I made it back to Algorfa; fighting the now-in-my-teeth offshore gale. 51+Km. I have to guess as the speedometer has a mind of its own.

What's this?

17,12.10 Ramble

Thursday we went to Elche (Elx, in another dialect). It is, I read, a more typically Spanish city and also the site of the second largest palm forest in Europe. It is thought that the Phoenicians planted them sometime around the fourth century. One of the trees is a famous 7-trunked hermaphrodite with one that is date-bearing. I didn’t flock to see that one.

I had heard of a big leather/shoe store in Elche and found it. No more complaining about not finding size 48 shoes-they had models up to 53. Not every style in every size, but enough of a variety that I didn’t have to buy their only pair that fit me. I actually found a number of 47s that fit, so I’m beginning to think that my 48 cycling shoes are an anomaly.

Today was market day in Torrevieja-one of the biggest open air, itinerant seller gatherings in Spain. I guess! Hundreds of stalls cramming narrow downtown streets that are blocked off to traffic. You name it: leather, silk, olives, frankincense and myrrh…I found an almost new German Polizei leather jacket for only €50, and probably could have bargained it down some. Almost bought the requisite beret, but opted for a version of a peaked cap, quite like the one Andre has. Obviously, the “uncharacteristically cold” weather has made a hat desirable.

Which leads me to a rant, not a ramble. Every resident with whom I speak about the weather tells me of swimming in the ocean in December “last year”; birthday/pool parties around Christmas time; cycling in shorts and tees in January; bone-dry winters, blah, blah, blah…They are all liars; hiding some awful truth, hoping to lure in another duped expat. Oh, well-it’s still better than New England weather-Olde England as well, for that matter.

And that leads me to a truism. When people talk about the weather, they have nothing to say. I shan’t bore you further. Buenas noches.

Work Cave

Ancient caves near Lopera

Old, simple cave dwelling in Gor

Hiding from the heat-50 Degrees F

Alicante from above

Is on the very top

Carajillo on the Alcazaba

Alicante was today's exotic destination. After the morning in Almoradi setting up delivery of items for Fontana, we had lunch at a small seafood tapas bar on Calle Pablo Picasso. Of course I had tostada with tomato puree, serrano ham and manchego cheese-what else? Next time the seafood. San Miguel (alcohol-free, since I was driving) to wash it down and off to the bank in Algorfa for a few more arrangements.

Once in Alicante, we were promptly led astray by Guida, the GPS bitch. Seems she can't handle buildings over two storeys tall, goes into de-fib and lies to you. We drove up the tallest hill around and looked for the Castillo Sta. Barbara which was a klik or two away. With the help of a map and a passerby, we got to the base and drove up most of the 500+ meters, then climbed the rest. The Alcazaba is an amazing pile of stones, all of which were carried up by free labor. It dates back to the medieval days, and was occupied by Spaniards, Moors, English and French in various waves of succession. Looking down over the parapets gave me great waves of nausea and gratitude that I was never accepted at airborne school. Of particular interest was the five-holer, a narrow platform with an iron handrail, and no seat, on the outside of the wall, about 1200 feet in the air, from which the defenders could express their contempt on the assaulting troops. I would lock up.

I tried to put myself in the shoes of one of the hundreds of attacking infantry; looking up the cliff at the castle walls over a thousand feet up. I felt the weight of the siege ladder on my shoulders, felt the sweat soaking into the leather wrapping on my battle axe, heard the screams of my comrades who were being splattered with boiling oil or, worse yet, by-products of last nights' meal. I heard myself telling my squad leader, "Screw you, kill me now, that way I don't have to climb up there to die."

Fitting thoughts to wash away with a carajillo while looking over the city and the beautiful sun-lit Med.

Empty!

Punta Prima de Orijuela

Our first day on the coast was overcast with a threat of rain but warmish-about 60 F. Rested up after the long drive to Granada to return one car and pick up another which could be returned locally.

This place is kind of a blend of Venice Beach and Waikiki spread thin between ESBs (Ex-pat Storage Boxes), large, multi-storied concrete buildings designed by a range of architects from the unimaginative to those on drugs. The main drag is a gastronomic gulch graced by numerous Fish N Chips places, BK and Mickey D's along with the usual smattering of real(?) restaurants billing themselves as Italian, Indian, Mexican and the occasional Spanish one. Every block contains at least one Chinese emporioum of the caliber of the Dollar Store. There are innumerable tapas bars and pubs, none of which have we tried as yet. I'm told that places bearing Pub or Club in the name are more likely than not brothels-prostitution being legal here. Don't expect confirmation from me.

First impressions aside, it's not a bad place to be. Just have to get on the bike or in the car and move about two miles inland and you find the more Spanish areas. The ESB zone is quite large, with acres upon acre given over to cookie-cutter "urbanizaciones" or housing developments geared toward the retiree or vacationer. Some are tasteful, but very boring when you see twenty or thirty in a row, after row after row... A lot are unfinished. When the bottom fell out of the economy, the builders or developers just walked away. It's not uncommon to see hundred-unit high-rises with no windows, doors or occupants. Ghost towns on high...

Alhambra Sidewalk

New Rocket: BH Ventoux

09 Dec. Ramble

Yesterday, we packed up and left Cortijo Pepe Soria and headed for the Costa Blanca. It was about a four hour drive through some majestic scenery, comparable to the mountains around the Apache Trail in Nevada (USA). We'll miss the beauty of the Sierra de Baza and the snow-capped Sierra Nevada, but we won't miss the cold and (uncharacteristic, everybody says) wet weather. Bernard and Pam were great hosts and showed us a fine time during the month we were there. They showed us around and introduced us to their circle of friends who were all very welcoming and helpful. We'll miss the Brit tapas nights at Bar Mora.

We also met a pair of friends in Jose and Eva who ran the local Coviran market. their patience with our halting Spanish and friendly advice with groceries kept us in fine feed for the month. He is a marathon runner and is planning to do the 2012 New York Marathon. Naturally an invitation was extended, and if we are still in Maine near the end of Nov. 2012, we will host them and try to return the hospitality.

Today we drove the rented car back to Granada Airport which is about an hour past Gor, picked up another car which can be dropped off in Torrevieja which is a short bike ride from where we are now in Punta Prima and did the afore-mentioned drive again. This time, though, we stopped to do some ceramics shopping in Purullena, a small town in the center of the cave-dwelling area. Yesterday we stopped for a break in Cartagena and chanced upon the best (so far) restaurant of our trip. I was able to order a dish I haven't had since April of 1964: Squid cooked with rice in its own ink, with clams, crab, shrimp and fish added. My only regret was that I had to drink a Cerveza sin alcohol (fake beer) as I was driving. I would much rather have had a good red, but I made up for it tonight with re-heated leftovers and a Carinena Riserva.

More to follow...whenever...pictures too,,,

Update 03.12.10

We now have wheels. I found a good deal on a city bike that actually fits Is, so snapped it up for her. Then I tried out some segundo-mano MTBs kind of like Dyl's old Diamond-back, but they were somewhat low-end and the brake levers are reversed as they were from the British market. That was a nasty surprise on my test ride. So I had to bite the bullet and buy a used rocket bike. It is a light-weight Spanish bike with full Shimano 105 components and Campagnolo cranks and BB. I had to throw on a pair of el-cheapo flats which I'll rip off as soon as those that Nick is mailing with my shoes get here.

Pictures to follow, but I must vacate this place. It's an internet bar/cafe and the smoke is killing me. Got to stay healthy for the 80 K shop ride I was invited to go on this Sunday. Church of the Bicycle again!!!!!!!!!!

Ciao, Greg

Spain-Ramble 10

Ramble 10

02.12.10, Algorfa (just off the Costa Blanca), Alicante Province, Spain

.They call it the Costa Blanca because of the ancient industry of salt production, not white beaches. Haven’t really explored other than to cruise a few bike shops and supermarkets for supplies. Weather was miserable (though not as severe as Granada) until yesterday, when we saw the sun for the first time in days. I stripped right down to two layers!

.Is was stricken with a sore throat and an ear-ache yesterday. Probably from the ribs she ordered at a Fish ‘n Chips place at dinner last night. I was flayed by a guilty conscience and a resolution to eat Roman in Rome. I was tempted by the waitress’ description of the “southern fried chicken” and figured it would be a real adventure to try “southern” cooking in a Brit restaurant in Spain. No wonder I failed Brain Surgery I in school. What I got was 3 sort of McFingers pieces deep-fried in over-spiced soggy batter that even the combination of “Brown” sauce and Tartar sauce (both from packets) couldn’t make palatable. In my own defense, I must argue that I was put off the Lamb Shank by her description that it was “like, roasted, in a microwave”, by the mint sauce (again in a packet in the bowl on the table); and I had already tried fish ‘n chips. Granted they were wrapped in newspaper, sprinkled with vinegar, and eaten under a tree in a park in Luton, but…

.Anyway, I should have gone with the fish. Pyon gave me a slab of hers to try (since her cat wouldn’t eat the whole thing, which was as large as a respectable mackerel). It was delicious. Pyon is Burmese, married to Les and they are the first Brit residents of Fontana-1, where Is will buy her flat. They have been super “hosts” and guides; letting us camp on their sundeck to use the internet, setting up the VOIP call to Shannon yesterday and showing us where everything is. They were pleased to guide us to three bike shops and are looking forward to cycling together. There apparently is a trail from Algorfa to the beach at Guardamar-a mere 15K hop. I will be going out in a while to scope out the surface in order to make the decision as to what kind of bike I need. I know which one I would like, but that is in Westbrook and would involve significant dismantling in order to ship. I may buy locally, especially if I can find a good second-hand ‘Cross bike.