Mojácar

December 5, 2019

We really like our hotel in Agua Amarga, save for one thing: breakfast won’t start until 8:45. Rachael is chafing pretty badly about the long wait, but all is forgiven when we sit down to one of the best breakfasts of the tour. She’s especially thrilled by the combination of scrambled eggs and carrot cake, and will still be raving about it this evening. Arrow cake and eggs - her new power breakfast.

Plotting out an afternoon walk, trying to distract herself while waiting for breakfast.

We have another short ride today - only 20 miles - and over breakfast we discuss plans for the day. We’ll surely knock off those 20 miles quickly and even with our late start reach Mojácar by early afternoon. I’m thinking we’ll take a walk down to the beach (we’ll be staying up in the historical village, Mojácar Pueblo, rather than down by the sea at Mojácar Playa), but Rocky thinks she’ll want to stay on the bike and add some miles out in the country somewhere.

Holding that thought, we leave town and immediately start climbing up the neck of the headland east of town, the one that features the ore terminal sprawled along the top. After that we drop down into the coastal town of Carboneras, stop at a store to pick up lunch, and not long afterwards find ourselves climbing once more as we cross the neck of our second headland of the day.

A look back across Agua Amarga and the coastline of Cabo de Gata.

Dropping to Carboneras, which from this photo looks industrial but in fact is a very attractive beach town. It looks like a good base for a several night stay. It is probably nicer now though, since the power plant was converted from coal.

Briefly dropping to the sea again, we pull up short to watch in amazement at the waves crashing against the shore and throwing up spray twenty feet into the air.

This was such a great show. We could see these waves from a half mile away as we dropped down from the hills.

I liked this shot. The spray puddled into the depressions in the rock looks like icing.

From this beach we look East and up at the main climb of the day - the fantastic, twisting road to the saddle of a huge headland. From below it looks incredible and just seems more so as we climb, following its contorted profile as it bends around hilltops, cantilevers out over open space. An amazing ascent.

And a frightening one. It is quite windy again today, with gusting winds that are constantly shifting as the road changes direction or doubles back on itself. To the right is a sheer drop off - absolutely sheer in the stretches where we’re biking across open space. It’s a narrow, winding road, and there’s not much traffic - but enough to be disturbing since you don’t want to get anywhere near that right edge. At one point I catch up to Rachael, stopped dead recovering her composure by the side of the road after a short, fast downhill that particularly tested her nerves.

And, a very popular ride with the the bikers. Several zip down going the other way, several others labor up in our direction. Our town for the night, Mojácar, is used as a base for winter training camps. At the summit of this climb we chat with a quartet riding together - an American, from Atlanta; two Italians; and a Spaniard.

And, while we’re on the subject, Almeria as a whole is an important cycling region at this time of year. Yesterday we passed seven other fully loaded touring cyclists - two couples and three single men - biking the other direction.

We’re going up there, slowly and prudently.

Up there. It looks a long ways up, and is; but it’s less than half way to the summit. The road you see is going against direction, circling around and behind the hill it’s carved from before continuing to rise.

We’re further up now. The segment of the road we saw in the last frame is invisible from here, off to the left and behind the hill.

The final climb. It looks pretty exposed, and feels like it too. Not for the faint hearted on a windy day like today.

At the top. Rachael is waiting with the Atlanta guy, both taking photos of the arriving stragglers.

At the summit, Mirador de la Granarilla. A stunning lookout.

At the summit, we can look back at the day’s ride so far. The farthest headland is the one between Agua Amarga and Carboneras; and the next nearest is the smaller one just east of Carboneras. If you zoom in you can see where the highway touches the shore there, but it’s a bit too far to see the waves crashing skyward.

Dropping off the east side is more relaxing - less contorted, more sheltered from the wind.

Still dropping. The rocks here are fantastic, colorful, complex.

Video sound track: Mas es Amar, by Enrique Eglesias

It’s amazing how much riding you can get in just a 20 mile ride, if they’re the right 20 miles. We’re feeling pretty tired when we turn away from the coast and start the short climb to Mojácar Pueblo - about 500 feet in roughly a mile and a half. It unfortunately starts out at a modest grade, meaning that there is real pain around the corner.

When Mojácar finally does appear around the corner, it takes your breath away at first. It’s an amazing sight, the whitewashed town completely blanketing its conical hill. What little breath remains goes out the door when the real work arrives, and we both quickly give it up to dismount and push the agonizingly steep final quarter mile into the city and to our hotel, which sits right on top.

Thank you, chief navigator, for finding us a room up here on top rather than down on the coast!

Mojácar Pueblo is an amazing sight when it first comes into view.

The route to our hotel goes up there, and immediately forces us off the bikes. Remarkably, an occasional car drives up or down this, and takes four or five backward and forward course adjustments trying to work around that tight bend at the intersection.

Oof! Why do we have these silly bikes next to us walking up this?

We check in to our hotel, a lovely spot that we’ll say more about later (we’ll be here two nights). Our room has a dynamite view facing on the mountains. It’s mid afternoon already, and oddly enough Rachael isn’t interested in any more biking for the day. We spend the remaining hours of the day instead on a seven mile loop walk down to the sea and back again. My knees give thanks for the chance to walk off this super steep hill, and again for the chance to climb back up again. More ibuprofen, s'il vous plait!

For dinner we take a short walk across the plaza (about 50 feet) to another Moroccan restaurant where we enjoy what seems like the perfect meal for the end of a chilly winter evening: steaming bowls of tagine.

The view across the plains to the north. We’ll be biking off in that direction tomorrow, after which we can look forward to climbing up here again. A t least the bikes will be unloaded this time.

A steaming bowl of lamb tagine, with plums and almonds

A steaming bowl of chicken tagine, with saffron and olives.

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Ride stats today: 20 miles, 2,200’; for the tour: 2,191 miles, 88,400’

Today's ride: 20 miles (32 km)
Total: 2,191 miles (3,526 km)

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Gregory GarceauThat settles it . . . if I ever make it to Europe for a bike tour, the Iberian Peninsula is where I'll go. (Sorry France.)
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4 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Gregory GarceauThat’s my thinking too. It took awhile to come around to it, but I really think Spain has the best cycling in Europe. I like it better every time we’re here.
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4 years ago

Carolyn van HoeveI would love to see a ranking of your top 5 favourite cycling locations! Has Spain topped the list?
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4 years ago

Scott AndersonToo hard! My list would probably differ from Rachael’s, and it would be more granular than country-level. Probably needs a whole conversation, maybe over a bottle of wine in Auckland some winter.
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4 years ago