Murcia tour 2018 – Day 5:

Calabardina to Zurgena

Our night in Calabardina was spent at yet another ‘to be avoided’ hostelry. Again, a bland box lacking any character save that of the sound effects. The paper thin walls allowed us to be serenaded to sleep by the sound of our snoring neighbours and we were awoken early by the dawn chorus of their morning ablutions.

We tactically avoided the need for a bank loan by skipping breakfast at the attached bar and instead, we shipped out and headed for a Pasteleria in town. 1 cafe con leche, 1 manchada and two double tostadas with tomatoes and cheese for 5 euros. Nick was happy.

Today’s route was basically to follow the coast for 20 miles or so before heading inland. The Garmin by now was sulking because of the verbal abuse it had received throughout the week and it’s duties were confined to telling us the time and recording our mileage.

We largely avoided the busy streets of Aguilas by sticking to the promenade where we weaved around inattentive tourists and made use of a reliable piece of technology, my bell.

A busy day in Aguilas

An excellent stretch of quiet coast road between San Juan de los Terreros and Villaricos.

We stopped for some lunch in the small marina of Villaricos, by now basked in warm sun. The contrast to the near hypothermia conditions of the first 2 days was surreal. For the 1st time on the tour I peeled off my arm warmers. The improvement in the weather also brought out the tourists and lots of middle-aged men in lycra not to mention a legion of flies, most of whom seemed partial to Magra, our choice of tapa for the day.

Eating alfresco in Spain can be a frustrating operation with one hand covering the food and the other alternating between feeding my face and swishing the flies away. Needless to say the accompanying cussing is almost but not quite on a par with that directed at the Garmin.

All bars in Spain seem to have a TV, sometimes several and all showing different programs. The usual fodder is football, trashy soaps and even trashier gameshows always presented by hombres with Hollywood smiles and assisted by Miss World contenders. There was something strangely addictive though about watching Wheel of Fortune in Spanish and this photo I took is a fitting epithet following our noisy stopover last night!

‘With my 8 hours sleep I’m happy’

From Villaricos we headed inland, a steady and easily graded climb up to Cuevas de Almanzora made more taxing by an increasing head wind.

Beyond Cuevas the climb steepens and so too did the wind. Nick was working hard on the front but said he was flagging. I struggled desperately to stay on his wheel but reached a point where I couldn’t. With around 30 metres separating us Nick cycled past one of the large rectangular bins by the side of the road, just before I reached it the bin blew over in a violent gust causing an unholy din. Nick hadn’t noticed the bin and turned around in a panic thinking the sound was my bike clattering off the road.

We each battled on to the crest of the climb knowing that after some very short respite we faced the final climb of the day and of the tour, a 1000ft brute of a climb with an increasingly steep gradient. We took a 10 minute break, ate a couple of pastries each and girdied our loins for the final obstacle.

The climb from Antes to the Lubrin road starts at a modest grade but again, the wind was against us.

Towards the end of a 5 day tour, ones ‘sore bits’ seem to repay all the abuse they’ve received and they decide it’s payback time.

By now it felt like I was sat on hot coals and I’m sure Nick was the same. At the slightest lessening of the gradient we would both raise our bruised assets off the saddle to gain momentary relief before having to sit down again and continue the torment.

After 500ft of climbing the road rears up in a series of towering switch-backs. By now Nick was well ahead of me, I had to crane my neck to see him high above and beyond him were several more tiers of switch-back.

Of course we both made it, we had no choice. When I caught up with Nick he swore some sort of expletive towards the climb. I swore too, to buy an e-bike for the next tour in Spain.

A hazy view back of the last big climb with the coast we’d left a couple of hours earlier in the distance.

All that remained was a sweeping 8km descent back to Zurgena. A familiar one taken steadily in the buffeting cross winds.

We headed straight to the bar to meet Nick’s wife and enjoy a celebratory cerveza.

The end of another tour. Tough, as always but hugely enjoyable.

If you like big hills, quiet roads, extremes of temperatures, screaming thighs, cheap beer, expensive water, saddle sores, rain, sunshine, wonderful accommodation, grim accommodation, navigational challenges and more even bigger hills then this is the place for you.

A big thank you to my brother Nick for putting up with me and waiting for me on the hills, to Virginia for lending him out for 5 days and to anyone who reads and enjoys my blog.

Now, where can I buy that e- bike?