2019's bright idea: cycle to Gibraltar via 21 back-to-back centuries. Let's help M.N.D. research, Bloodwise and Blesma! Wagon rolls on Friday 20th September...
My acco seemed to be 24/7 as far as the bar and food being available: I wandered down to get some desayuno at 6.30am and there was already too much noise: there were even a couple of Coppers in there too, hah-hah! Crime can't crack itself, Ken...
To be fair though, your average Spanish Juanny delights in pretty much shouting at his mate, even though he's probably no more that 2 feet away. Breakfast (coffee and the least-sugary option) was rubbish though, apart from the top-notch freshly squeezed naranja juice...just the best!
Sorry Repsol but you went AWOL when I was starving!
Daft goats.
Not long since the lighthouse switched-off.
Full disclosure- since you *might* have heard me whinge about unfavourable winds, today was the opposite...a helping hand which was lovely. The idea was to reach for Fuengirola (about 85 miles) and see how we felt.
The knee wasn't totally onside with this early-doors but after an Ibuprofen and some of that Voltarol gel nonsense, things were doable. Just because I had ditched the inland plan via Granada and Cordoba because of the vertical aspect, don't assume that the coastal route is flat: 4500 feet later...but these are climbs that give you the best views, so bring it!
I don't care if it's Xtina Aguilara, just keep left!
Good work.
Love the rip-off, still loathe the band, hah-hah!
Good bridging, Sir.
Like wot I said yesterday, funny old thing this N-340 road: it'll lead you through horrendous towns that kill you with incessant stop-start from traffic lights and crossings and lunatic pedestrians and drivers who assume that everyone has the ability to communicate via telekinesis, to the most extraordinary and unspoilt beaches not 5 minutes away. Amazing!
Good job that I ain't afraid of hei- oh, yeah actually I am.
Passable.
That was where the views and the photos stopped as the route mutated into a sorta Autovia to take me around to the north of Malaga before making it plain that I had to route through it, which took a while...
Behold the evidence...bicycles welcome, one and all! Still no horse racing, mind.
Er, so I was sorta on an M-Way then? Anyway, time to do one...
Before we do though, behold that lovely hard shoulder though...less of that later.
Anyway, after a lot of faff I made it to Fuengirola and celebrated with a white chocolate Magnum. Still sensational. Reckoned that there was still enough time and energy in the tank to try for Marbella. It would mean a shorter last day too...let's go!
The N-340 morphed into the A7. Not really that much fun. Behold the lack of hard shoulder!
There was only about 15 miles to Marbella but it was not a pleasant experience: there was very little space for a cyclist and my right pannier now has some grey paint on it from the barriers. Matches the manky paint that that berk left on it when he reversed into me a fortnight ago, hah-hah!
And before someone thinks that I was cycling on a road where it was prohibited, no that was not the case as a couple of Police cars passed me without a problemo.
The view from tonight's acco! It really is a brilliant hotel though.
All that nause done, it was a a case of hoping that Trivago would deliver me a hotel pronto, and what do you know...it came up trumps! Massive room, everything works and the restaurant was spot-on, so all's well that end's well.
That is as tidy as it gets. Streamlined operation, hah-hah!
All being well, it'll be Gib tomorrow. Nowt taken for granted: the whole premise has been guided by a 'one day at a time' attitude: not sure if anyone noticed, ahem...
