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Cartagena to Malaga 2004

I was nearly forty.  I had always cycled a little and done a few days here and there in the UK but I wanted to mark the milestone with something different.  I decided a trip in the spring of 2004 to Spain would be the answer.  Easy to get to, pretty much guaranteed good weather. I started planning the trip over the winter and then I was in a collision into a car unhurt but with my frame cracked.  I looked up frame repairers in Leeds and went along to Bob Jackson’s, a firm going since the thirties.  I was talked out of repairing the bike and instead into buying their Reynolds 631 audax frame and then specifying all the parts.  It came in at £1000.  I’m still using it.

I rode to work every day but other than that was rarely getting out for any long rides and there was little way to judge my relative fitness.  In retrospect, I was less fit then than at 57 now.  I was also badly equipped – a pair of thin-soled trainers, some cotton jerseys, although I had least discovered cycling shorts.

I had never boxed a bike for air travel and got the shop to do it for me.  I flew to Alicante and unboxed.  The mudguard on the front had been removed to make room and I didn’t have clue how to put it back on, so I discarded it with the box and made my way a few miles to a rail station to get a train to Murcia, where I stayed overnight.  I have memories of some shrimp fritters in a smart bar. It was good place to start.  The next day I got a train with my bike to a small station called Pulpi and my adventure began.

The first day was a ride along the coast, sometimes a little busy but generally fine.  I stopped for lunch in Garrucha.  The most memorable part of the day was the descent into Agua Amarga at the end of a 45 mile ride, with an exhilarating sense of accomplishment. I stayed right on the beach at a place now called La Palmera.

The second day was also quite flat but more deserted inland.  My main memory was passing by endless greenhouses supplying the UK and others with fruit.  I stayed in Almeria in a new hotel, dripping sweat over the lobby when I arrived after a very hot ride.  On the third day the climbing began.  I followed a fairly busy road to Alhama de Almeria where I had some lunch.  After that the traffic thinned and the scenery improved, ending in a lovely entry to Ugijar.  I stayed in a basic hotel but with a good restaurant.  The fourth day I rode to Lanjaron, following the main A438.  Despite it being wide and fast, it wasn’t busy – it was an attractive road. I would now take on the more ambitious ride into the Alpajurras.

The ride from Lanjaron to Alhama de Granada was the best day of the trip.  Quiet roads took me to Albanuelas. From there an unpaved track climbs to 4400 feet. There was lightening in the distance on a road where I was entirely on my own – a little scary but a magnificent place.  I finally emerged onto a highway, descending to Jayena.  Then another lovely road around a reservoir to reach Alhama de Granada, a beautiful town.  I remember a fine meal.

The last day took me on big but not that busy roads to Colmenar.  I was tired and had some lunch.  I managed the final climb, about seven miles.  The descent into Malaga was magnificent.  I had never experienced anything like it before, ten miles downhill, hitting 50mph at times, with views of the mountains, sea and city.  It seemed amazing I was so close to a big city and the Costa del Sol. 

I stayed in a lovely hotel on the Calle Molina Lario with a rooftop bar overlooking the Cathedral. I had contacted them in advance and they had got cardboard bike box ready for me to use.  I managed to pack it myself and bundled it into the back of a taxi the next day to take me to the airport.

I was tired, my knees were aching, my feet were sore but I had had a great time.  I hadn’t thought about work for a week and came back relaxed and refreshed.  I was hooked on touring and have done it every year ever since.

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