Toward the end of April, I took three days off from the exhibition, leaving Is to man the fort while I led a four-man bicycle assault on the Sierra de Espuña in the Region of Murcia, about 90 km. away. The peak is 1585 meters up, just 21 fewer than Mt. Katahdin. Unfortunately, I could not get to the peak; being a law-abiding person, I stopped at the big sign forbidding further trespass. The armed military guards didn't scare me. The thought of having my bike confiscated and walking back to the hotel did. It had taken me two and a half hours to grind my way to the top, from the hotel. The exhilarating descent only took me 56 minutes. I could have done it faster, but being alone, I used caution as there was nobody to pick up the pieces.
After a celebratory pint, Dave and I headed north toward Cieza through some really beautiful country with vineyards, almond and citrus orchards as well as wild , mountainous vistas. Below is a shot of Dave doing a long climb out of the Mula River Valley. On the far mountain range in the background you can see the peak of Espuña just to the left of Dave.
We reached Cieza, had a couple of re-hydration beers and found a good hotel right in the centre of town. After a much-needed shower and a short siesta, we headed for a recommended restaurant; only to find it closed. Either it was closed on Mondays or we were too early for dinner (at 8:30 pm?!?). After asking a helpful shopkeeper, we dined at his favorite eatery, washing the fare down with a very good house wine called Ribera del Segura. We are only one province away and the Segura runs right past us here, but I can't find the wine here. Good excuse to go back. The next day we headed home through the Ricote Valley which, in itself, is worth a few days exploring. Knackered, we arrived home in the early evening, saddle-sore and very thirsty. Medicinal re-hydration was necessary.
After the exhibition closed, we started packing and getting ready to meet Nick & Susan in Bilbao. We headed to Madrid a day before, so that Is could go to the American embassy and secure a visa. The train ride to Bilbao was a change, as we were heading away from the dry, semi-arid centre of Spain, into the lush Northwest. It was good to see green mountains and hills again, but I dreaded the thought of continuous rain which friends had encountered the week before. Luck was with us-the weather was fine.
As is proper, we ate too much and forced ourselves to walk it off...while searching for another good restaurant. The food, as expected, was fine, quite different than that we find on the Costa Blanca and the local wines were all good, of course.
And then, on Friday, the 9th we headed back to Madrid to continue our "Moveable Feast" double birthday celebration. We had more excellent meals, meeting Cely Teves and Ching and Pipe for a couple of them. Ching, or Frances Luzuriaga lived across the street from Nick and me in Victorias, Negros Occidental when we were teenagers. I hadn't seen Ching in 49 years.
"Stop!!!" warned Don Quixote, "You'll crack your carbon bike frame. Basta! No more overeating." So we went shopping, finding all sorts of not-really-so-necessary souvenirs with which to stuff our already-stretched luggage. On the 12th, we hopped the train again for home. The celebration continued with more fine, but less expensive meals cooked mostly at home; paella, steamed dorada, bbq'ed chicken and grilled mackerel. If it weren't for the cycling, I'd weigh 200 kilos.
Hasta Pronto...
