It’s been gradually seeping in to my consciousness over the past few days that the tour’s almost over. After today we have just a five day run east to Murcia, then we’ll catch the bus to Valencia where we’ll spend the last five nights until our flight back to The States. I catch myself drifting into thinking about departure, and need to snap myself back to stay in the moment while it’s here in front of us.
And, the moment in front of us this morning is gorgeous. The storm passed in the night, the streets have mostly dried out already, and skies are clear again. Hard to believe we’re in the same world, really.
We have a short ride ahead of us to Agua Amarga, so I talk Rachael into adding twenty miles by first biking west along the coast to the lagoon west of here - a ride we had planned for our layover here until the weather interfered.
We don’t get as far as the lagoon though. We only get about a mile out of town when our coast road unexpectedly turns to gravel. Funny - it really looked paved in the satellite view! We’re not starting the day with 20 miles of hilly gravel, that’s for sure, so we take a couple of photos and turn back east again.
ALP-822 looks a bit more primitive than we’d pictured. I’d still like to ride it some day, but not at the moment.
The ride east to Agua Amarga (Bitter Water) is a straight-forward run along the coast. Just the usual features you expect to find here - a lonely road with stunning beaches separated by spiky headlands. A beautiful ride. We stop for an exploration of the striking beach at La Isleta del Moro; then again to catch our breaths and admire the lookout at Mirador Amatista; and then finally about five miles shy of our destination to eat lunch on the shoulder of the road.
At the mirador, with our new friends - a mixed group that we didn’t quite sort out: Antolin, the Spanish man on the right, is from Toledo; his wife, the photographer, is from Equador; as are her two daughters cavorting in the background; and the other woman is from Cairns.
Scott AndersonTo Suzanne GibsonCorrect! And the only reason that photo made it in here. I’ve bee; surprised at how hard it’s been to find red subjects here at this time of year. Reply to this comment 4 years ago
After four miles across this plateau, we broke for lunch and then dropped to the sea again. Along this stretch I saw another hoopoe - the third sighting of the tour.
Video sound track: Bolero Sonambulo, by Ry Cooder and Manuel Galban
We arrived in Agua Amarga about three, leaving us time for a walk. We split up, Rachael going west to explore the next cove over; while I went up, to explore the ruins of the old ore terminal. Agua Amarga was the terminus of a rail line that brought ore from a mine near Lucainena, the mountain town we biked through on our way to San Jose. We saw remains of this train line when we biked out of Lucainena, and now I wish I’d stopped to take photos of it.
And, we’re out of time. So, that’s all he wrote.
Photos from Rachael’s walk:
Agua Amarga, seen for the west. The structures atop the ridge are part of the ruins from the ore terminal, and the ramp angling up from town on the left was my course to the top of the ridge and back.
The terminal was on the coast, at the end of this trench. Ore was brought by rail here from the mountains, staged, and then lowered through this trench for loading onto freighters for shipment. The ruins here are quite extensive.
The walk back down to the village. As I understand it, this steep road was used to haul coal up to the level of the train line. The ore terminal itself was on the coast, at the end of this headland.
Scott AndersonTo Jen RahnAs opposed to yesterday’s typhoon video, which had enough adversity to last through several days. Reply to this comment 4 years ago