Friday: The Good, The Bad And The Ugly: Galgelle to after Terual

August 15, 2014

I make as early a start as possible, before eight when the sun has yet to appear, being afraid the sheep may return back this way and in the morning light the big fellow herder may spot me.

Soon I descend to the day's first village built on the slope back up and as I climb, I pass a café with two sitting outside. Typical Spanish chatterboxes. The younger man calls out to me "Adonde vas?" "Irlanda" I reply. He then invites me over for coffee. An offer I politely decline, saying I would rather keep going. My target for the day being to get beyond Teraul, which is quite a distance. I smile and wave and continue climbing.

The Bad: Steep descent to day's first village with a corresponding steep climb the other side.

The Good: How much harder it would be without a viaduct.

Next the road spirals down to Monteban and after passing through a long narrow street with cafes, the road continues straight along a flat valley of small farms with vegetable plots, sheep and fruit groves for a couple of kilometres to a roundabout where I turn left, back towards the towering hills to the side, joining route N420 and pass a sign: Teraul 74 km, corresponding to the map and reassuring me I should easily make it today.

Three kilometres in I enter the old mining town Utrillas. Old as it says something to that effect on a board on the way in and "Patramonial Humanidad", a bit like UNESCO. The Mercado in the plaza has the shutters down. No surprises, the day being a holiday remember. Cafes are open of course and I attract a lot of stares as I lock my bike outside one. Next door is a panadaria. The only place I'll fine food today.

Inside the panadaria is like a shoebox and servicing behind the counter is a gorgeous young woman with blond hair and dark eyes. Upon the counter is a pizza topped with slices of tomatoes and small fishes. I'm thinking a few slices for lunch, until the woman begins to pack it in a box to present to the seventy year old granny before me. A Spanish grandmother's treat to her grandchildren later. Instead I make do with a baguette for a sandwich, having still got eggs, and a coconut bun to eat now.

Before leaving I go for a coffee at the other café across the plaza. The one next the panadaria where Is drawing attention, I would perhaps have to sit being questioned about my bike journey by curious locals speaking fast peninsular Spanish. The other place is part of a hotel and most of the cliental are Spanish holidaymakers which leave me to enjoy my coffee in peace.

Its almost midday when I get moving again. A steep six kilometre climb ensues, remembered from when I came this way three years back. Its sort of easier if you know the climb. You know how long it is and can pace yourself.

The Ugly: To the side of the climb away from Urtillas is this eyesore old mill, I think for refining whatever ore is mined here.

Looks as if there isn't too far more to climb. Then I pass a sign with a wedge and 2km.

Puerto San Just at over fourteen-hundred metres.

On the ascent again: the road swings left and goes up through the gap in the middle with a sign at the side 1388 m.

I take the climb in my strife up pass the old mining mill where the road curves around to the right up towards the wind turbines that line the brow of the hill. The road levelling out on a windswept plateau, then after a bit sweeps down. I camped at the first pine plantation the last time. The following day I stopped early, about ten kilometres beyond Terual I was feeling tired that day and I camped in a stand of beech trees by a river. I'm aiming for the same place today.

The road continues down and round to the right in a big arc across an upland valley. Then climbs for two kilometres to level out short of fourteen-hundred metres. Onwards feels like cycling on top of the world looking out across red-ish brown plains. Then there are picnic tables without trees, though not necessary, it being cool up here and I stop for a three o'clock lunch.

The rest of the way is a long gradual downhill. The forty or so remaining kilometres reducing rapidly. The country looking much like Patagonia with long straight stands of tall popular trees all along a valley enclosing perfect rectangular fields.

Approaching Teraul rain clouds have brewed up and a cold crosswind hinders me more on the final few kilometres ascent to the city. But the rain holds off until after dark. I having reached the same place I camped last time. Not having changed in three years of absence.

The Good: Spot the stand of trees along the valley in the distance. This country reminds me of Argentina. From cycling on a high plain the road would begin dropping down barrancas to a wide flat bottomed valley with long tall stands of trees originally planted by settlers for shelter from both sun and wind.

Old John Deere by a stand of beech trees

The rain in Spain falls always on the plane. Doesn't mean looking out and seeing the wing being pelted by a downpour while taxiing at a Spanish airport.

Today's ride: 110 km (68 miles)
Total: 3,767 km (2,339 miles)

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