Panic at the discoteca

October 23, 2018

Two important errands faced us. First, clean our filthy dirty bikes. Second, buy train tickets to Málaga. Easy peasy.

We dragged our bikes to the beach, wary of the sand that wreaks havoc on the drivetrain. The foot showers were sufficiently strong to wash off the surface mud. However, it soon became apparent that the fenders would never wash clean. Off with the wheels again. Scrape scrape scrape with a stick. It was mildly satisfying to finally free the fenders of all debris.

Then it was off to the ferry that would whisk us to Cadíz. It’s a familiar form of travel for us Pacific Northwesterners. We easily found the ferry, enjoyed the crossing, and headed straight for the train station.

We discovered that the tracks near Málaga had been damaged by heavy rain and we couldn’t get through. Several moments of brain paralysis ensued as we tried to digest the news. Finally the gears started turning again. The bus station is just down the street. Let’s ask there.

Sunyoung worked her conversational magic at the ticket counter. She returned with an astonished look on her face: no problem taking the bikes! Wow, what a relief! We took the employee at her word and bought tickets for 2:00 tomorrow. We shall see how it goes.

It took a while to recover from the curveball that had just beaned us. We ate lunch and made our way to the old city. It was full of tourists from the cruise ships that were docked in the harbor. We tried locking our bikes and walking around, but neither of us was in the mood for it. Finally we decided to ride around the wall that protects the city from the ravages of the sea. This was much better. Really beautiful scenery, even on an overcast day.

I was game for a ride down the peninsula and through the salt marshes back to the campground, but that did not appeal to Sunyoung. We are considering doing it tomorrow, though, with all our gear in tow. Yay.