November 17, 2023 to November 18, 2023
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After the mad dash for the Cordoba train station three days before, we were taking no chances on the flight home. Delta advised arriving at the airport three hours ahead of time. With all the road blocks we'd seen in Madrid due to protests, we weren't sure if the taxis would be able to drive up the street to our hotel. Considering traffic and the possibility that we'd have to walk a block or two to get a cab, we added an hour to get to the airport.
Turns out there was plenty of time. The cab came right to the door and we were on the road by 7:10 for our 11 am flight. From there everything moved along at speed. We were at the airport in 20 minutes, then a porter carted our bags to the Delta counter. Between the taxi and the porter we used up the rest of our Euros so there was no fuss with changing money.
By 8:10, an hour after leaving the hotel, we had checked the bikes in, cleared security and passport control and were walking down the concourse to the gate. What a difference this was from our experience flying home out of Charles de Gaulle last year. That time we needed every bit of three hours to get on the plane.
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Happy to have free time and fast wifi to work on the journal, I found a quiet table at a coffee shop and spent a couple hours conjuring up memories of our days in Cordoba.
The plane departed on time for the long trip back over the Atlantic. Flight attendants were attentive, the food was decent and the baggage arrived when we did. No complaints at all.
In Atlanta we were not so enamored with the dingy, crowded and noisy international terminal. Happily the second leg to St. Louis was also on time and we were outta there. Our son Luke picked us up at Lambert airport and we crashed at home, in our own bed. It was as smooth a return as one could hope for.
Barry and I had starkly different approaches to reentry at home. The next day he went on a home repair tear - fixing a broken door lock, snaking a clogged drain, plugging a leaky pipe, charging a dead car battery, ordering new shower door rollers for the RV. All in one day. He was back in his element.
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While he beavered away, my head was still back in Spain. Our bike mileage for the trip stood at 981 and all I wanted to do was round up that number to four digits and daydream about riding through the hills of Andalucia. I did the bare minimum of domestic chores, picking up groceries and starting the laundry. Then I cracked open my Bike Friday suitcase, put the bike back together with help from the chief mechanic, and went for a ride in the sunshine.
I wasn't expecting much in the way of fall colors this late and was delighted to find some trees still holding on to their looks. Considering that my body clock was still on Madrid time, I'm counting this last ride.
Two weeks later, my brain is still back in Spain. It's a happy place to be. Dragging out the process of finishing the journal has certainly contributed to the fixation. Besides poking along on our story from Madrid, I've been absorbed in cleaning up photos and looking back on everywhere we went. Between the two-week bus tour in Central Europe and the seven weeks on the bikes from southern France into Spain, we traveled through nine countries and 37 cities. In Spain we rode in six regions, or "autonomous communities" - the Basque Country, Cataluña, Mallorca in the Balaeric Islands, Valenciana, Andalucia and Madrid. It's overwhelming to think about it all.
I'm entranced by Rachael's slideshows in Team Anderson's journal Falling Through Spain. It would be cool to make one that pulls together some of the best moments of the trip, although I'm struggling to winnow down the photos to a reasonable number. I might need more than one slideshow. In the meantime, I've pulled up a few pictures that transport me right back there. They evoke the two things we love about bicycle touring - the bicycling, and the touring.
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Spain is a fantastic place to ride a bike. It helps a lot that motorists respect the 1.5 meter bicycle passing law. For us, most of the riding was low-stress. And my goodness there is so much to see here - gorgeous sea and mountain vistas, groves of olive and orange trees, architectural treasures that go back 2,000 years to the Roman era.
We could hop around the country on trains and buses with the folders, and get around on public transit in the bigger cities. The fall weather is so pleasant in Spain. There were just a few rainy days, all when we were sightseeing on foot. Cordoba was warm and sunny in November, and we had a beautiful afternoon to ride at the end of the trip in Madrid.
Of all the regions we rode through, Andalucia is the one that captivated me. I had no notion of the sophisticated Moorish culture that flourished there in the Middle Ages. Between the exquisite Islamic temples, pueblos blancos, flamenco culture, and the sunny Mediterranean coast, I couldn't get enough of southern Spain. I hope we'll get back there someday.
Once again the Bike Fridays showed off their versatility on all kinds of terrain, but they did throw a few curveballs our way. The day Barry's panniers absconded off his rack into a vineyard in southern France was a long one. After we recovered the bags, he had to fix two flats and took a tumble down a hill by the Canal du Midi. That was the start of a rash of mechanical issues over a couple of weeks - two broken brakes, a missing rack screw, a loose headset, and four more flats. All fixable, but tedious.
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I don't know how Barry handles all these challenges with such cheery calm. After he replaced my rear tire in Mallorca the problems subsided and we didn't use any of the spare tubes we bought there. Even with these hiccups, the bikes have proven their mettle for travel in Europe. We look forward to taking them back there, whenever that may be.
In the weeks since returning we have gradually reconnected with our people and life at home. And we do love being home, make no mistake about that. There's a lot to catch up on.
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I have channeled my obsession with Spain into a tapas fiesta for Barry's 75th birthday next week. Today I'm doing a practice session to try out a batch of Croquetas con Jamon y Queso. So far I'm up to nine tapas on the menu, plus holiday cookies and cake. Too much?
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I might check back in here on Barry's fiesta, or possibly a slideshow, but will call this a wrap for now. There are future trips to plan. We'll be in Tucson for a month starting January 7th, and in Key West in late March to start a tour up the Atlantic coast to...somewhere.
I am thankful to all of you who have followed along and cheered us on. We so enjoy reading your comments. You make us feel as though you are traveling along with us and egg me on to keep plugging away on the journal. However long it takes, it's worth it to hold on to the details, so we can come back and relive the experience.
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4 months ago
November 18: 21 miles, 1290 feet of ascent
For the tour: 1,002 miles, 65,360 feet of ascent
Today's ride: 21 miles (34 km)
Total: 1,002 miles (1,613 km)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 11 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 21 |
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"in Key West in late March to start a tour up the Atlantic coast to...somewhere."
If "somewhere" extends as far as the DC area, please consider a stopover at my place in the Maryland. Suburbs. Allow several days if you do- loads to see, do, and experience within an hour's drive.
Depending on the timing I may even make a tour myself, from Charlotte back home, via a route I'll have designed myself. Perhaps we might coordinate and share some miles on the way?
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