Bob's last ride with us today, before he catches the fast train back to Barcelona and fly's onto Florence.
Beautiful sunny day greeted us, we designed a new loop on undiscovered roads, so we are eager to get out. It was Sunday, no one up and about at 7am, roads dead quite as we made a bee line to Pego (wondering if the super smooth road beneath me, is where the pro's train for their time trials) through the Marsh Nature reserve, a monotonous flat road the north of the city.
From Pego, we quickly enter a gorge where the temperatures cool as the rays of the sun are blocked by high rock canyons. Other riders are out, a mix of groups and singles, a couple of fellow's in front of us, didn't stop talking the whole way. This ride must have been their Sunday catchup. as they stayed consistently about 100 metres in front of us, voices carrying in the canyon, 'like a couple of chooks, didn't stop cackling'.
Before too long the valley starts to open up to some wonderful views, together with warm sunshine
It's fairly consistent climbing for awhile, (we loose the chooks ahead of us) in awe of our surroundings, until we reach our highest point on the ride and take in the views to the south. Photo's simply don't do it justice. We have a long downhill section before another climb, but enjoy taking in the exhilarating views.
We are now riding on a sub alpine meadow of wild flowers, pinks, yellow's purples and reds, with bare limestone hillsides to the left and lush green treeless hills, in the distance to the right. We drop a little in elevation and low growing cherry orchids now line the roads and in between each row, are red poppies.
We can see the final climb of the day up ahead as we approach a river crossing on the valley floor,
Val d' Ebo, a winding road of 5km in length, average gradient of 5.7% with steepest 100 metres coming in at 9.1%, doable.
A group of English riders, all wearing the same white jerseys, pull up ahead of us, just at the base of the climb for a toilet stop, white jerseys lining the road, side by side. I have an 'bloody hell' moment as I pass, some were embarrassed by the only female rider on the road, 'men have it so easy' I say to myself.
But that's soon forgotten as the road heads upwards, we get quite hot, I sit on Dave's wheel and manage to get up feeling good, we stop at a view point and wait for Bob.
The decent back to Pego, is ABSOLUTELY stunning, the best views we have had so far. We come around a bend in the road and this is what greets us, blue Mediterranean Sea as far as the I can see.
The decent down to Pego is long, on beautifully flowing, not too tight turns, smooth road, lined all the way down with the Spanish white concrete block safety barriers. Riders greet us coming up the climb, some clearly working hard doing efforts, impressive. I just enjoy the freedom, the views and feeling, very lucky to be here.
The marshlands are ahead, a vast wet area and nature reserve for birds. We take the bee line home, all very happy with Bob's final day, laugh and recap our wonderful rides over a meal of Shakshuka and bread, (Mediterranean style eggs)
Dave and I weren't affected at all by the Blackout, the following day, as our apartment had gas. It was more an inconvenience for us, no internet.
We were out to lunch, a small local food hall, obscure little vendor, nothing special, but the food was amazing, when the sudden black out occurred.
No one seem to know what was going on, we certainly had no idea and spent the afternoon wandering the streets of the old town that surrounds the castle. Underneath the castle, the tunnels have been preserved, these are the tunnels the citizens escaped to, during the Spanish Civil War in 1936 to 39'. Quite daunting with no lights.
Bob however, was very much affected. His fast train back to Barcelona, just stopped in the middle of no-where, at 12.30pm. No one knew what was going on.
He sent us an image to say, they were off the train waiting on the side of the track.
The Spanish civil guard (local Police) came on board and told all passengers, it was too dangerous to stay on the train, so they were to be bused to the closest town, to sleep for the night, in the local hall. Clearly wasn't going to make his evening flight to Florence. (not that any airports were open!)
The power was restored during the night and once everyone was back on board, it was put in reverse to the nearest town, awaiting a driver.
He eventually made it to Barcelona for a re-scheduled 9.15pm flight to Florence, arriving at midnight, dead tired. What an adventure. Then he was off to Milan by train the next day to vote at the embassy, as he lives in a marginal electorate on the South Coast, where every vote counts.
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