Grazalema and Zahara de la Sierra

March 19, 2012

northeast on Junta de Andalucia

To my surprise, the 22-euro room rate includes breakfast, served in a classic café on the ground floor. I have a second cup of coffee, which costs extra, but nevertheless a night in the Colon is still a good deal.

Iglesia de la Merced and just right of center, on the far corner, is the Colon Hotel

The town centre is still pretty vacant when I cruise down to see what's what at around 10 o'clock. I stand outside trying to shield my laptop's screen from the bright sunlight and use the wifi from McDonalds for 10 minutes before hitting the road. It's then a cruise down for a few kilometres, me stopping at a petrol station to top up my water bottles and buy a snack to munch on en route. This time I get some fried corn that has a bacon flavor - it's called BBQ - but I didn't really know what I was buying; the packet, being a dark brown, looks a little like coffee beans. However, I like it, and have mouthfuls during the day.

My fleece jacket is required; Ronda is something like 750 m above sea level and it feels quite chilly in the shade.

My Michelin map has it has A376 - heading northeast of Ronda

The A-374 kicked up some, but it's the sort of gentle climb that doen't require the use of the little chain-ring. There isn't much traffic, and what there is is courteous, as it has been all along in Spain, on par with France.

At the 15 km mark, a sign tells me this is my turn, the A-372 to Grazalema, which is one of the white villages. It's nice and quite.

As the road rises for a short while and curves round on itself, the village can be seen as a cream smudge at the foot of a range of peaks way over on the horizon. It seems closer than 15 km, and I guess it is that far, because the road curves a lot to get there. As the crow flies, it's probably half. I don't really know.

Eventually, the road goes through a cork oak forest, the trees having had their lower trunks stripped of the soft bark. It's a wonderful, shaded section of road that gradually climbs and culminates at a 822-metre-high pass, right at a junction where there's a place to eat.

I decide to get a bite and sit outside and have a ham sandwich and a can of pop, the cost of which was 5 euros, which may be a bit much.

This is now in Cadiz province and from the cafe junction it's only 5 km to Grazalema, and most of that is down a super fast drop which has a nasty rise to get into the village.

I've a few photos from my previous tour and soon find the water fountain where Debbie, Dave and I had filled up our bottles from the carved stone gargoyles one morning in bright sunshine.

The second location is a two-star hotel, which is just around the corner; it'ss taller than I remember, and getting the original photo lined up takes some doing. The three of us booked rooms there after sitting inside beside a wood fire in its restaurant, warming up after a particularly chilly descent.

After re-taking a photo that has the three of us outside the hotel, I have to ask a few people where the third shot was I'd taken; it turns out to be outside the church doors. Once I'm done, it's tempting to stay in the same hotel, but I reckon I can ride for a couple more hours and cover some ground.

Ten years ago, coming down the steep hill, the weather was foggy and the temperature low. The three of us had on all the layers we could find, with socks as gloves, and even in this afternoon sunshine, it still feels a bit cool despite the work involved in pedalling up 1,357m pass - Puerto de Las Palomas. At the edge of town, I retake one last shot - one of Debbie - then resume climbing.

The CA-531 is something that has vanished from my memory. The gradient is gentle, curving round the contours of the mountains as it does, so perhaps it didn't seem so bad riding up it. Dropping down is sublime; a wonderful view of the road snaking about far below.

The village of Zahara I do recall, perhaps because we bought a postcard of the place - it's one of the famed white villages that dot this part of Andalusia, one with a distinctive castle perched on top of a hill.

The hotel, a rural hostal - Maquis de Zahara - is at the bottom of the main street, one of a handful of commercial enterprises, mainly bars, that take up a small area near the church. The single rate is 30 euros, the wifi works and my room has a heater, something that I need as the temperature drops later on when the sun disappears for the day.

Today's ride: 51 km (32 miles)
Total: 497 km (309 miles)

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