The next day started off windy as the last one. I had breakfast near Medinaceli station, which was a bit away from town. The town looked interesting enough but it was high on a hill, and I had a lot of ground to cover, since I’d advanced so little the day before, so I didn’t visit.
After that, there were a couple of things I don’t see everyday:
An emergency parking for icy conditions. Yeah, there’s pretty much no ice back home.The same km on two different roads, in the same place.
It was then time to head into a nice river canyon, mostly next to the Madrid-Zaragoza train line and the Jalón river. Sandstone canyons were quite a landscape change from the usual.
I then arrived at the town of Arcos de Jalón for lunch, where I experienced first hand the “local shop for local people” sketch, from League of Gentlemen. Fortunately, one of the places was more accommodating, and I had quite a nice meal. Then I sampled a local delicacy.
Yemas, literally meaning yolks, are sugary egg yolks with glazed sugar around them. They remind me of Aveiro’s ovos moles, but somehow with even more sugar.
Since the road just ended on the highway and the alternative was quite a deviation, I went on it.
When I got off, I had a little trouble with the route.
Well… technically, it was passable.
A few km later and already at nighttime, the town of Alhama de Aragón appeared.
And right at the edge of town, a creepy abandoned factory was my campsite for the night.
Along the way, there were plenty of mosque-o-churches, in a style the Spanish call mudéjar, coming from the Arab word مدجّن [mudaǧǧan], meaning domesticated, referring to the muslims who stayed in Spain after the Reconquista and “converted” to Christianity.
I then arrived at Calatayud, a town that immediately tells you that there are no sexist aggressions there, no siree.
I wonder if this is like a country that has “democratic” in its name.
Sadly, it was Easter Sunday, so most everything was closed. Here are the pictures anyway.
The unimaginatively named “fountain of the eight pipes” and one of the city gates.Those balconies don’t look too safe.
It was then time to head back into the hills, onto wine country.
Of course there are speed cameras for 23 km on this rural road.
After a night spent in a pine wood and some climbing, one of the dumbest signs I’ve ever seen appeared.
It says that the dashed line “only” indicates the center of the road. That’s what it’s bloody well for, ain’t it?
In this region, there are little structures called neveras, that the locals used to make ice. They’re about as tall underground as above ground.
And then it was time to head way uphill, and then a solid 25km mostly downhill, along the Herrera and Cámaras River valleys, all done in good time.
I started that day off at around 720m. Before it ended I’d go to 800, back to 720, up to 1050, 850 and 1100 again, all over more than 70km. It was a tough day. Being on the hills again had the advantage of having more good shots than usual. This is the first hill of the day.
I’d run out of water and couldn’t find a fountain, so I bought some at a gas station. Then this happened.
He just jumped into my lap.
The water bottle was 6.25 l instead of 5, so I ended up having to carry it around while I hadn’t drunk enough.
The landscape here was farm country. Not much more, not much less.
The town of Hita
It was then time to head upriver and then when there were no more turns in the river valley, have a nasty climb to a plateau.
That doesn’t look too safe.
Since there was more than 40 mm of rain coming the next day, I’d arranged to stay a couple of nights on a hostel in Sigüenza. The town was a nice surprise.
Plaza Mayor By night.The cathedral by night.Hostel room all to myself! Yay!
Sigüenza was a bishopric founded in the 12th century. As such, it features quite a large gothic cathedral, built over a roman one. It’s huge for the town’s size. It also got a castle, which has been converted to a hotel and is therefore not very interesting. Besides that, there’s an university from the 15th century, which no longer operates. A large chunk of the walls still exist, with many doorways around town. Without further ado, here are the pictures.
A view of the town, from the outside.The aforementioned castle.Plaza Mayor by day.The cathedral by day.The cathedral’s main entrance.
I then left Sigüenza into a 40 km/h headwind. Needless to say, I didn’t get far. The wind was just on the edge of what my tent can handle. Luckily, I found shelter.
There was no wind at all inside, and those boulders were way lighter than they looked, so with some work, I could get a tent in there. However, as night fell and I started to use a light, I realized the lack of wind was actually a problem: moving the boulders created a lot of really thin dust, so I settled for the upstairs and had a peaceful night.
Still got a ways to go today, so I’m signing off. Have a nice day.
After leaving Toledo, there was this really nice path along the Tagus, with great views of the city. The sun had been shining for a couple of days, and would shine for a few more.
It was then time to cross the Tagus on an old, repurposed railway bridge.
This put me back into farm country, where I had a rather nice lunch.
Then it was time to get inside the autonomous community of Madrid, through Las Vegas.
At first, the landscape was mostly the same as it had been up to here, but then it turned to a brown/grey soil, which looked like something out of the moon, only with more dead vegetation.
Worse still, I would pass by… well… a dump. If you’ve done any sort of rural dirt road, you probably have found garbage dumped alongside one of them. But this… this was the worst I’ve ever seen. It was like this for many kilometers, some of it even clearly visible from M-50, one of Madrid’s ring highways.
My route then took me through a rather dodgy looking neighborhood. The locals seemed friendly enough, though.
The rest of the day went by in a blur, in an effort to get out of suburbia. I couldn’t find out a place to eat. There was a Peruvian takeout place, though. In the end, the only things worthy of note were:
1 – you can see Madrid’s skyscrapers, even from a good 15km away.
2 – the town of Torrejón de Ardoz. Not because it’s particularly interesting but because it has… a jet fighter roundabout. Your town does not have a jet fighter roundabout, therefore your town isn’t as cool as Torrejón de Ardoz. Sorry.
Throughout eastern Extremadura and Castilla-La Mancha, I’ve been seeing scores of rabbits and a few hares. They’re extremely scaredy, though. I’ve finally come across a few I’d thought I’d be able to take a selfie with. I think I didn’t succeed.
There were a few rabbits there. Just… take my word for it. 😦
At this point, I’ve come across the first road without a hard shoulder ever since I’ve entered Spain. The Spanish drivers were respectful as ever, but I’d gotten used to the extra space the shoulder gave me.
And then I realized… I screwed up. I had scored a really cheap hostel in Guadalajara. The reason it was really cheap, though… was that it was in Guadalajara, Mexico. While I wasted time figuring out what to do, it got pretty late, though, so I went to the nearest place to camp I could find. It was a very visible, not very good place, though, so I woke up really early to get out of there quickly. The bright side is: it got me a good shot just after sunrise.
I’d then visit and stock up on Guadalajara. As a short review, it seemed like a decent place to live in, but not very good to visit. I’d give it a day at most.
Palacio del InfantadoPanteón de la Duquesa.Some partridge and beans.
And then it was time to head back to the hills, where there was lots of wheat, olive trees, and a really great campsite, not visible from any road.
And finally, a happy Easter from The Lazy Cyclist. Or happy Passover. Or whatever it is you celebrate.
“But I don’t celebrate anything!”, you might say. In that case, here’s some advice from 1980:
Toledo is a lovely looking city on a hill overlooking the river Tagus.
The first impression, as I headed to my hostel they night was: this place is not bike-friendly, though not really because of its design. It’s just an old city with steep hills and cobbled streets. I’ve also found out that Google Maps’ bicycle routing is pretty bad, not being too shy about sending me through pedestrian streets and steep hills, some even with stairs.
I had a lazy day where I mostly got caught up on my internet and did the previous blog post. I also left to do laundry. Pedaling without all the extra weight felt like I was on a race, compared to normal. This is the only cycling in this post.
Federico Martín Bajamontes, the first Spanish Tour de France winner
About this city… It’s old. There were people here all the way back to the bronze age. In the middle ages, it was home to jews, muslims and christians alike. Even if those relations were strained or outright hostile — there were your typical jew expulsions and turning places of worship from religion X to religion Y — the heritage from those three cultures persists in the city to this day. It was also the imperial capital of Spain / the Holy Roman Empire for a few decades in the 16th century, before the court moved to Madrid.
My visit starts at a Jesuit church. The towers promised a nice view into the city, and they delivered. Inside, I found out there’s a tourist bracelet you can buy that gets you into 7 different monuments for 10 Euro, so I got it.
I’ve started experimenting with the camera, to try and capture the stained glass without it becoming a white blob. Of course, it has the side effect of everything else becoming a black blob.
Up next was a visit to the cathedral, which was nearby, as you can see from the large tower in the last picture. It’s a gothic cathedral, built on top of the old mosque from the 13th to the 15th century. The builders enjoyed using light as a “building material”, which is why it features a whole lot of stained glass. City hall was on the way, so there’s a shot of it, too.
Why don’t we ever see this mother and her child looking happy like this?That’s a lot of gold.
Sadly, you can’t go up the tower, here. Then it was time for my first visit to a synagogue.
The picture is straight. It’s actually the wall that’s slanted.
And a monastery — San Juan de los Reyes.
At 1,72m, I am not a tall man. I’m too tall for these doors, though.
A hostel roommate mentioned a mirador where you can see all of the old town. It’s a 40 minute walk from town, but it’s well worth it, I think.
I had a rather basic lunch on a nearby terrace, where I got to sample the local beer, which was quite good.
By chance, I met Saresh, another hostel roommate here, so I didn’t have to make the walk back on my own. We parted ways when we got to town and, to have a rest, I took a selfie with a raven:
Monumentally speaking, the afternoon wasn’t as interesting. I’ll just leave a few pictures here.
An old mosque’s garden and one of few green spaces in the old town. The inside was converted to a church in medieval times. Also, most of the frescos are missing, so it’s not very interesting.
The most important square in town, Plaza Zocodover, is where most of the nightlife is concentrated, nowadays.
At this square, you can see how much the locals enjoy marzipan. There’s at least three different stores fully dedicated to it. I don’t share that particular taste, however, so I settled for another local delicacy. Toledanas are biscuits made from a crumbly dough, with crispy stuff on top and pumpkin jam inside. They’re decently tasty.
The largest, most imposing building in town is the Alcázar, a fortified palace. Nowadays, it is shared by the military museum, which I didn’t visit, and a library, which I did, because the last floor has a cafeteria, which promised some amazing views. It had them, though only through windows, which is why the pictures don’t do them justice.
By now, I felt I’d seen the main attractions in town, so I went due a walk in a path by the river.
Alcántara bridgeTequila time?
By this time, I was pretty beat, so I took a bus back up to the hostel. It was great to be off the saddle one day, and Toledo was a great place to do it. It’s also been sunny since I arrived there, so that’s a bonus. I hope you enjoyed this post and that you have a great day!
Just outside Monfragüe, after packing everything up and returning to the road, a bunch of cows invaded what was my campsite. So that was close.
I would end up spending almost the whole day in the middle of nowhere, among pine woods and farmers’ fields, having to make 5km detour to a town in the middle of the day just to stock up on food and water. I also arranged to have a replacement clip for the saddlebags to be delivered the next day to a bike shop in Oropesa. Before the day was up, I would get my first little glimpse of snow.
Despite the ever-present Sierra de Gredos on the horizon, these days have been mostly flat terrain, which isn’t that great tfor photo-ops. However, when I took a rest, I took the opportunity to take a selfie with a stork
Proof with the decent camera, just so you don’t need to take my word for it.
Then I picked a campsite and prepared for what would be my first rainy night while camping. It was predicted there would be up to 2.5mm/h at one point and I’d never camped in the rain before, so I dug a little trench around the tent, to try and keep me dry. I thought the campsite would be great, because no cars passing by would see the tent. And then, some kids on bikes went by and spotted it. And then some guys on foot. It was already nighttime, I was on public land, and they just passed through, so I figured I wouldn’t let my preparation go to waste. I’d chance it. Fortunately, I woke up by myself and I was dry. I was feeling a bit ill, though, so I waited for the rain to pass before getting going. When I went outside, the mountains were quite a bit whiter.
I didn’t miss all of the rain, in fact, at one point, when I stopped to get my rain gear out, it the stopped raining. It felt like I had a personal cloud on top of me:
Dry road, just ahead of where I geared up
I went through some fields, then saw a rainbow.
And then a double rainbow:
A double rainbow, though not all the way across the sky. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t a religious experience.
The day would consist mostly of gravel roads, mostly through some sort of shared access farms. Sadly, I didn’t make it through by sundown, so I slept in a really windy meadow, which was visible for many km, so I decided I’d leave before the sun was up. This was the last shot of that day.
I crossed the border into the region of Castilla-La Mancha, which is Spanish for “cold, windy, rainy, miserable place”. It was now Saturday. Now normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. However, it was a town holiday in Oropesa, so the bike shop was closed. Since I felt ill, I really wanted a bed, so I decided I’d speed my way on to Talavera de la Reina, where lodging was much cheaper, and then take some kind of bus back to get the parts I needed. So… I took the highway. “What?!” – I hear you say. It’s actually legal to ride a bike on the shoulder at Spanish autovías. It was pretty jarring after days of hearing mostly crickets and birdsong, but otherwise it felt pretty safe and, with a tailwind, the kilometers went by fast. I then arrived at Talavera, a place much more in line with my expectations of a Spanish town.
I got settled in with Blag in my AirBnB room and got ready to wait for the weekend.
Sunday I was still pretty out of it, so I stayed in most of the day, and went to dinner, and sampled a rather disappointing local beer.
It felt like any old boring industrial stout. Worse than some , in fact.
I then took the train to Oropesa, where things were… stressful. The store’s opening time on Google Maps was posted as 10:00. I got there at 10:25, and the opening time on the sign there was 10:30. I thought… “OK, I have a bus at 11:35, I’ll take breakfast, it’ll be fine”. After breakfast, however, there was still no one there. I called the guy, who said he “had an emergency” and would take around a half hour more. This left me with some time to explore the rather lovely town, which still had some decorations from the holiday on display.
Looks like a Portuguese insignia to me. Not sure what this was doing there. Maybe this is from Ceuta?
Getting back to the bike shop, it was already 11:32, and no sign of the guy. I’d given up, when he told me he’d just arrived. The bus stop was pretty close, and there was no sign of the bus, so I went there, got the part, and got on the bus. It was 11:35. If the bus had been on time, it wouldn’t have been possible.
However, it all went well. I got back and fitted the clips on the saddlebags. It felt good no longer needing to MacGuyver luggage straps to get the saddlebags to stay on.
I thought while I was there, I’d visit Talavera de la Reina and… it was a waste of time. It’s a truly dreadful, samey, not very well though-out city, which makes you feel really unwelcome if you’re not in a car. The coolest thing about it is actually a bridge.
This is a bike path, and I’m not actually on the saddle. If I was and I didn’t duck, I’d hit my head on the ceiling.Post in the way? No problem
There’s pedestrian crosswalks that make go all the way around the intersection, bike paths where you need to turn 90 degrees on a dime and still look behind you for traffic, and… forget it. I’ll just leave you with the good shots.
That’s four good shots… in quite a big town.
Back on the saddle, it was time to head to Toledo on a good, though somewhat busy, road. I stopped at an olive tree field and stayed for the night… and the next day, ’cause I still wasn’t feeling well. I had food and water, mom! I swear!
The last shot of that day.
The next day would turn out to be the rainiest so far, and the hills were finally back, but it went otherwise smoothly.
I could actually hear this, coming through here.Theat’s the face of a man who’s been rained on, for a few hours.Naturally, the road goes not through the immense meadow on the left, but through the hills.
I then arrived in Toledo, a place that seems to have a lot of potential. But that’s a story for another post.
After leaving Cáceres, I met a fellow cyclist. Sebastian was German and was going back home, after doing a bike tour to Morocco. Unfortunately, he was not lazy, so after a quick chat, he disappeared over the horizon. The day was otherwise uneventful, with mostly flat terrain, but a few landscape shots coming from it.
I then slept in a place that would leave my parents wondering why they paid for my education.
I’ve been finding that the Spaniards are really respectful towards cyclists, always giving me a wide berth, maybe due to signs like this.
The next day, I would enter Monfragüe national park, a landscape so protected they had to put wood over the guardrails. In case it’s not clear, I’m not actually sure that’s the reason.
I then saw a cool looking castle in the distance, so I decided to have an unscheduled stop there.
It was a bitch to climb, and a lot of it has to be done on foot, which, with a loaded bike, was Not Good ™. On the way up, there was a place with cave paintings:
And a place with a sign not to leave the path.
But if I did that, I wouldn’t be able to take shots like this:
I finally reached the top, where there was a castle and a small chapel.
Pictured on the right: El Salto de lo Gitano, the only mountain pass around, where the locals would, in ancient times, charge a toll.
It was then time to go down. On foot. on a narrow path. With a loaded bike. It was a slog. Sometime in the middle, I stopped for a rest, where I took a selfie with a Spanish imperial eagle:
If you like birdwatching, this is the place to be.
After getting to the bottom, while crossing a bridge, a tiny nudge to a saddlebag broke a clip.Luckily, I’m trained as an engineer!That mostly held up, and at least never failed catastrophically. A few landscape shots and a climb later, I finally saw a place that had a salad, and took advantage of that.A few glamour shots later, it was time to turn in for the night.Then I learned that you can actually do night shots with a phone now!Let me say I’m sorry for the lack of updates, but I’ve been in the middle of nowhere for four days, now. This was two days ago and I’ll have another post for the last two days. Hopefully, I’ll sleep on a bed, today. See you next time!
I’ll just start this post with its rightful protagonist: this is Lorenzo in his inner (outer?) sanctum.
You can tell how much of a character he is just by looking at the picture. Lorenzo is not exactly his given name, but it’s the one he adopted after trading life in the bustling streets of Paris for the quietness of the Extremadura countryside. The story of how we came to meet is quite simple: he offered lodging right smack in the middle of my route, at a convenient stopping point for the day, through Warmshowers, a site you can think of as Couchsurfing for bike tours. It would have been as simple as that… but life got in the way.
Last Friday, I left Portalegre quite late, qjust for a short (and uphill) 20km ride to Marvão, the oldest settlement around and an UNESCO world heritage site. Everything was going well, as evidenced by these glamour shots and a selfie I took with some barely visible goats.
A while after seeing those goats, I got to see a very dead one. If I was superstitious, I’d say that’s where my bad luck started, but the fact is: I got lost. No blaming the route this time: this one’s on me. I got to a point where it was getting late and getting back to the correct road meant going back uphill quite a bit, but wait! Someone cleared a lot of bush around here, and I see the correct road it in the distance!
It “just” meant crossing a chasm with a loaded bike. I determined it was possible, and did it in two passes, one for the bike, the other for the cargo. At the end of all this, I had lost daylight and got settled in for a cold night on the hills.
The next day, it turned out I wouldn’t cycle much, because just 15 minutes after beginning, this happened.
BIKE NERD PARAGRAPH: I think one of the pins holding the fixed part of the derailer to the mobile part got weakened in my previous repair and now failed, allowing the derailer to spin and get caught between the spokes.
Luckily, I was approaching a junction and going slowly while this happened so I didn’t even fall and no spokes got broken. After taking the derailer and the bent chain links out of there, I managed to get it going single speed. This is when I found out my insurance doesn’t include road assistance and texted Lorenzo to say I wouldn’t make it. At this point, a trio of spanish bikers stopped by to see if they could help. They lent me some metal paste to fix the broken luggage rack and took my luggage to the next town while the paste set in.
After having breakfast in Portagem, Lorenzo calls me telling me “hey, wait! I’m coming to get you!” The man just offered to drive 60km each way to take my bike to a shop. While I was waiting, I took a few shots of Portagem, which turned out to be a rather nice little town.
The closest to Marvão I would get.
Lorenzo has then arrived on an old car you’d be surprised to learn still runs — his good one is in the shop. After struggling a bit to get the bike in, he’d take me to a place where there was a bike shop, but it’s now gone. It’s now Saturday afternoon and the shops are closed anyway, so he immediately offered to take me another 50km to Cáceres on Monday. That meant I’d get to spend two days at his house.
After the cold night, a bed was more than welcome.
I then spent the weekend with Lorenzo, getting to know each other and learning about his passion for Hi-Fi equipment, jazz and blues, which we got to experience extensively, both in the backyard, as pictured, and in his living room where he had even better gear.
A rare shot of Lorenzo without a cigar.
The man also has the biggest music collection I’ve ever seen, including music from every genre and every country you can imagine. Everything in uncompressed formats (of course!).
He kept me well fed, too.
Lots of conversation and musical tastes shared later, it was finally Monday and time to head to Cáceres, where we got my bike fixed by Rafa at La Bicicleta, for a very reasonable price.
Ready to go.
After checking in to a hostel, in which I had a room all to myself, it was time to visit Cáceres, the first big(ger) city in this tour. It is the current capital of Extremadura, but it started its life as the Roman settlement of Norba Caesarina, in the 1st century BC. The visigoths razed that settlement six centuries later and, since then, it has been in control of muslims, the Portuguese, the Leonese, and the Castilians. Most of the architecture you’ll see in the old town is medieval and beyond, the walls having a patchwork of repairs with different materials, depending on the era they were made.
There was also some interesting wildlife:
Outside the walls, the most prominent place in the city is definitely the Plaza Mayor, a beautiful, large square, featuring a host of commerce and government buildings.
Outside the historical center, there’s a quite large, modern town, which is, apart from all the samey apartment blocks, quite interesting, with wide boulevards featuring gardens in the middle. Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures of that, so here’s some shots I wanted to share, but couldn’t fit anywhere else:
I managed to find out a good, cheap restaurant, too. It’s where I learned the Spanish also do migas, but the star was really the dessert. I assure you that while it looks great, it tastes even better.
And now, it’s time to get going, ’cause I don’t even know where I’m gonna sleep today. See you next time, and have a nice day.