Grumpy Old Men On Bikes

Our little 'locals' restaurant turned out to be full of gringos and doing a roaring trade.  Wherever we go we hear English spoken....sometimes by Brits but also by visitors from other countries who have to resort to God's own language to make themselves understood.  The Irish are well represented and yesterday they were out in force, easily identified by an impressive array of stupid green leprechaun hats and associated St Patrick's day paraphernalia (and a complete absence of suntan obviously).  The meal was simple but tasty and inexpensive and we are considering returning for a Paella before we leave.  This is a dish of such fiendish complexity that they require 12 hours notice to prepare it.  I have cooked a paella before and it IS a bit time consuming....but 12 hours? The promised overnight rain was nothing more than a couple of very light showers but the forecast insisted it wouldn't be properly over until noon, so we hunkered down...

Last night we saved our legs and dined at the apartment.  The spag boll made up for in size what it lacked in flavour and the others had the good sense to pretend it was delicious.   A couple of bottles of Lidl's finest vino tinto (€2.19 a piece) washed it down and it was a very chilled evening. As previously advertised, today was to be a rest day.  I suspect Plum was straining at the leash to get back in the hills but Nick and I have sore legs and needed a day doing nothing!  This was timely as I needed to do some work on my bike.  A series of unexplained punctures and a worrying bulge in the wall of the rear tyre indicated that some shopping was required.   Apart from buying and fitting the tyre and patching the blown tubes (a process that should have been simple but actually involved 2 more punctures and some very rude words) we did very little except have a coffee in the town centre then a leisurely lunch with couple of beers...

The blog has been mostly rant-free so far this trip...time to fix that.  We are in a country where you can buy a bottle of wine in supermarket for a little over a euro.  Three euros will buy something pretty decent.  The other night our Italian restaurant had nothing on the wine list for less than €20 and yesterday we passed a very ordinary bar which proudly announced that house wine was a mere €14!  The story with beer is similar....you can buy a litre in a supermarket for less then €1.5 but a large beer in a bar is usually €5 or more.  This is in marked contrast to our experience in arse-end-of-nowhere Spain last autumn; clearly there is a hefty 'tourist tax' on the Med coast.   Today we took the rental car so we could start a ride from along the coast.  Somehow, we achieved this without touching the cars either side of us, a manoeuvre involving much shunting a few millimetres forward then back with a dash of swearing for good me...

For most of my life I thought Flamenco was a type of dance for tall women in swooshy red frocks...then discovered that the term actually references the music they dance to.  The songs are delivered in an operatic style with dramatic overacting, lots of angst, wailing and clapping...a LOT of clapping  Since I am already widely known to be a bit of Philistine I may as well admit that I don't care for it.  The centrepiece of last night's village celebrations was what can best be described as 'rock flamenco'...in other words ordinary flamenco but delivered by a sort of Spanish Jon Bon Jovi in leather trousers.  Rock flamenco is just as shite as the regular stuff IMHO! This didn't seem to deter the locals who were 30 deep in front of the stage and doing an excellent impression of people having a great Friday night! Our Indian was very good, though we quickly realised that every single table was occupied by Brits and you can sort of see why the S...

We are taking quite a shine to Nerja.  The old town is charming and there are plenty of bars and restaurants to choose from, but the REAL attraction is that everything seems to open at a sensible time.  Probably because there are so many Northern Europeans here, they have abandoned the whole 'no dinner until 8:30' nonsense.  Last night we found a very nice Italian that happily served up pizzas at 7:30 and it is opposite an Indian that gets good reviews...so that is tonight sorted. Over a postprandial glass of tinto we sorted out a circular route that started with a long stretch of coast heading west then turned inland through typical Spanish 'white' villages via 2 sodding great hills.  This morning a check on the weather told us that the coastal drag would be into a substantial headwind so we very cleverly reversed the route, meaning we would do all the hills in the morning and have a tailwind back along the coast. Leaving Nerja we were imme...

Our apartment is in the heart of the old town which is a bit of a double-edged sword.  On the upside there are many nice bars and restaurants nearby but on the downside there is very limited parking in the area.  We got lucky yesterday and squeezed into a space exactly 2 coats of paint bigger than the car and won't move it until we have to....partly to save having to find another spot but mostly because we aren't sure how to get it out!   Last night we ate in nice place just round the corner.  It featured the novel combination of a Swedish chef (images of the muppets character were hard to shake off) and a somewhat Mexican menu.  It is called Rare Grill and worth a visit if you are ever in Nerja.   As a gentle day-1 warm-up we headed east along the coast to Salobrena .  This was lovely but far from gentle and featured a number of hills including some bits of 15-20%.  We were all done by 3pm and headed straight to ...

Air travel is not what it is was....unless you fly from Southend. For about 50 quid we parked in the 'premium' parking which is about 50 yards from the main terminal door.  If that doesn't take your fancy the station is also 50 yards from the door.  Easyjet is the only airline operating from Southend and this morning they had a grand total of 7 flights to get away.  Check in is 50 yards beyond the door, security another 50 and the gate...you've guessed it!  I imagine this is how it was back in the glory days of post-war air travel...though the passengers were a little more orange and botoxed than the sort of passengers boarding the flying boat to Sydney back in the day. We arrived into Malaga almost half an hour early but managed to throw that away when Nick was siphoned into the lanes for a manual passport check.  Neil and I stood and admired the many groups arriving for stag, hen and  'significant birthday' weekends while he queued and f...

The last time we met, Neil and I were in Valencia having cycled cross-country from Lisbon; it was mid-November and the long British winter was just around the corner.  Normally this would be the cue to get out the atlas and start planning a ride for Jan/Feb but, with a 2 nd grandson in the advanced stages of manufacture, it had been carefully explained to me that if I so much as thought about going away I would be in a whole world of trouble.  Little Jake turned up obligingly early on January 24 th and, as soon as it was clear that mum and baby were both fine, I got booking. We are repeating last February’s winning formula of a 10-day, fixed base, sojourn in southern Spain…but with three important refinements:   1/  We are going almost a month later in search of warmer weather and longer days,   2/  We found central Malaga quite busy for the first/last few miles each day so, instead, we are heading along the coast to Nerja where things are q...

Last night we found a pizza place almost next door to our hotel which claimed to open at 6:30.  We weren't falling for that, but we went at 7:15... fully expecting it to be closed.   It was open AND it was serving food!!!  We had excellent pizzas washed down with house wine and were back in front of DMax by 8:30. This morning, we made an early start and at 8:30 I slung my leg over the crossbar and sent the usual message to the engine room requesting thrust...no response.  It turns out that yesterday's  50 mile grind into the wind had taken its toll and the legs had gone on strike.  After some fairly tough negotiations with their shop steward, the legs agreed to start but insisted on working to rule. Luckily the day had relatively little climbing and a gentle tailwind helped where it could and we slowly covered the 46 miles to Valencia.  Along the way we started to see the impact of last year's floods.  This started a...