30 miles of driving wind and rain

    Half way between Sevilla (Sa-vee-aa) and Jerez, I headed south at 9:24.  With wind assaulting me from side to side and head on, compounded by unrelenting rain, I pedaled along in low gear for  thirty miles, five hours.  New cover for my helmet, glove covers and a ventilated rained jacket modified by yours truly helped me stay warm and modestly comfortable for the ride.  Kilometer after kilometer creeping along, I reflected how I am one of the few Americans my age that has the stamina and guts to take on such challenges.  When my generation is packing up, I revel at my drive and determination to not let age dictate my pursuits.
      Finding my way into Jerez was a maddening affair.  N4 turned into A4 (bikes prohibited) and there were no clearly marked signs leading the way.  Politely asking for directions several times eventually led me into the city center. The tourist information set me up with a nice hotel for only forty euros. No hostel as I had planned but I figured I had earned a nicer place.  High ceilings, marble stairs and trim, the Nuevo Hotel was a pleasant surprise.  I may have stayed warm but my trapped body sweat soaked me to the bone.  I jacked up the room heat and hung out all my riding gear with the hope that it will dry by morning.  A luxurious long hot show and a nap followed, whereupon I went out for a sumptuous dinner. Strategically placed for privacy, I ate like a god.  An after dinner Liqueur and desert has been my pleasure for the last several nights of dining out.  Now for a solid nights sleep. Tomorrow, Cadiz is my destination where I have booked three nights.  Cool place to stay plus I need a break from the rain.

Finally on the pedals

  8:50 I was on my way out of Sevilla but wasted a good hour before finding  a route to escape the city’s gravitational pull.  Locating back roads is a challenge given the emphasis on the high speed freeways. A4 south toward Cadez thinned out with each kilometer but as the hours clicked by, the wind accelerated.  I took refuge in the village of Quinteros, finessed a baguette sandwich from the market owner. Chilled for a short time and off I off I pedaled south into the wind. Thirty miles to Jerez became an unrealistic option as the afternoon progressed and the rain clouds moved overhead.  Alas a hotel truck stop in the middle of nowhere. Farmland on all four sides, not a town in site, as if the gods had put the hotel there as my salvation from the deteriorating weather.  I checked in to a modest room, shower and civilized Cena.  My new translation app has proved invaluable in the back country where speaking English is not an option.  This oasis is essential a truck stop but a much classier version than our operations.  I ate like it was my last supper and now for some Spanish televising and a good nights sleep. Thirty miles today, with wind and rain for the next several days, my progress will be slow, wet and challenging. Jerez tomorrow, Cadiz the day after.  God willing.

A day on the town

  Brevity is the key to a good blog, least I bore anyone. Last night was lights out at 1:15. The major problem with hanging out with people half my age is tolerating their excess..  Youth is wasted on the young.  Nevertheless, I rallied this morning and took the walking tour of the city lasting four hours.  Sevilla has a rich history spanning the Romans, Northern European tribes, the Arabs, Moors and finally the Spanish Christians who expelled the Moors in in the thirteenth century long before 1492 when the Moors were pushed out of Spain altogether..  The architecture reflects all these cultures.  Sevilla is a city filled with parks, a stunning cathedral, plazas everywhere.  There is a nice unhurried way about the place. The city was laid out by the Romans but the small streets cobble stone streets meander so as to lose your sense of direction. There are many restaurants and outdoor cafes to choose from for lunch or dinner. However, don’t count on eating diner anytime before 7:30.  I could easily spend a month here every winter.  The summer is a furnace.
     Nick and I dined at a small restaurant where we shared three small entrees topped off by desert and a local grappa.  Before diner, in the late afternoon, I laid out my route tomorrow, south to Cadiz.  125 K so I will stop off somewhere in between.  The trick will be navigating out of the city onto the small secondary roads.

Assembled the bike, saw the town

    8:00 and there was light.  Assembled the bike and cruised town; what a beautiful place. A big marathon had the streets closed for a day which made for riding down the center of the central avenues.  Checked in out and the cathedral along with all the surrounding side streets, this place is ancient.  Stopped for a casual lunch at a nice outdoor restaurant. The weather was perfect. A little red win, goat cheese salad followed by a crawfish dish which dazzled my plebeian taste buds.  Home for a much needed two hour nap followed by the free dinner at the hostel. The evening activities commence around 20:00 but I am adjusting.  A dozen of us traversed the narrow cobblestone road to see a flamenco show.  The beer and sangria flowed but I used restraint knowing a three hour city walking tour awaits me tomorrow, followed by some Roman ruins.  With rain forecast, I am hanging out another day.  Riding in the rain is a drag, anyways.

Boston to Sevilla

     With ever bicycle adventure comes with the strenuous task of transporting my bike and gear.  Two large cases and a heavy carry-on, despite the wheels, requires all my strength and a wide berth.  The looks are all telling, “hey, look at that grey haired guy dragging all that gear....”.  A car rental, two airports, two trains(one high speed AV.E.), one packed rush hour bus and a taxi brought me to the Black Swan Hostel on a small side road, center of Sevilla.  24 Hours with limited sleep does not leave much fuel in the tank. Bed #5, room 203, unpacked, showered, fish tapas for dinner and ten hours of rack time. My limited Spanish vocabulary is kicking in, met a a 28 year old American (on holiday from teaching English in China) to hang with later in the day. Looks like rain for the next few days so it could be a wet ride to Cadiz (Cod-ez).

Waiting for British Air liftoff

     Amazing how one plane reservation can galvanize my resolve to organize and prepare for another bicycle journey.  Shy of two months, the funds have been raised, equipment upgraded, gear packed and off to the airport loaded up with two ginormous bags.  My focus has been intense. After seven previous sojourns, I have refined process down to a near science.  Yet, it is never easy.  My battle with pretrip anxiety is daunting.  One side saying, “are you out of your mind....”, the other side saying “suck it up, show some guts and get moving.”  On my death bed I want to know that I took some daring adventures.  Most people stay frozen with fear, never daring to venture belong their sphere of comfort.  I am working up to some bigger challenges, perhaps China and South America.  Finding a traveling buddy has been the major stumbling blocks. Going it alone is an option but there is considerably more risk.
      Shortly, I will board a British Airways 380 jet, fly to London, switch planes and fly to Madrid.  tThe final leg will be a train south to Seville. Let’s get on with it!

T minus 5 before I lift off for southern Spain

   The worst part of any of my trips is the preparation.  The check list has not changed but it still takes a herculean effort to pull the whole deal together.  Buying the ticket is the catalyst for everything else that follows.  My mind set is the most difficult part.  Breaking out of my comfort zone torments me. The two forces within me battle it out. “Are you crazy” from one side, while the other side fires back, “get a grip, show some guts, the trip is on so get moving”.  I gave you the sanitized version.  Five days to liftoff and the lights are green.