Shut Up Chance: Final day in Cadiz Blues and the road to Sevilla.

October 24, 2014

I still didn't want to leave when Wednesday came, putting off getting back on the road yet another day. The hostel having a pay for six nights, get the seventh free policy made deciding easier, as Wednesday would if I stayed on be my free night, again; the third, having been in Cadiz three weeks. Then Thursday morning I thought staying yet another day won't make too much differences. Instead of cycling I went for a walk on the beach and took some really awful photos.

I had planned on being outside the Cathedral for a free city walking-tour, but when I got there, it was already past the one o'clock meet up time. I followed on in the direction most likely they would've taken and actually caught them. The group was stopped outside a house with the guide explaining the house's significance in the trade with the Americas.

Walking on to the next thing of interest, I asked a woman at the tail of the group "is this the free walking tour?" "Si!" she replies. The tour is in both Spanish and English. The group stops at the next thing of interest, San Martin church and the guild explains something about it being built on the ruins of a mosque after the Moors were expelled from Spain. Then when we began moving on again the young woman guild takes me aside and asks "have I a ticket?" This tour isn't free after all.

I returned to the cathedral steps, as the woman said the free tour guide would be along shortly, but waiting ten, no-one turns up. Christina from the hostel is there giving out flyers and stops to talk for a while. From a full house when I arrived in early October, numbers have fallen off in the last week going into the low season.

Meeting other travellers and like-minded people is one of the joys of hostels. There are always interesting characters. Chance from Florida though is one I'd rather not meet. He has mild Cerebral Pausee. Both legs and left arm are wasted, meaning he is slow on his feet. Otherwise he is a bit of a Forestgump. Bright and inquisitive, talking non-stop, not with you, but at you. Most shun him, perhaps because of his awkwardness; but, if you show any sympathy for him at all and spend time listening, he latches onto you, following you around. He followed a Canadian couple, Miranda and Dillon from a hostel in Sevilla to Cadiz. She was fed up with him and was mad with Dillon for tying his shoe-lace one day. Yes although he knows everything he lacks practical skills. He can't cook for example and has no social eticate. He can't see I would rather go and talk to someone else. And a few evenings ago I offered him a slice of pizza and he continued eating. He ate half the pizza leaving me hungry. He's a bit of a handful.

Then Wednesday evening he came back with his right arm all swollen, having been in an altercation in the Plaza. The story he gave me (he gave different stories to different people) he got talking to a young man who asked him for money to buy cigarettes, a usual story of befriending with economic motive. Chance had no change and gave him a fifty euro note. Truly, instead of refusing to give anything and walking away. He said here, buy cigarettes and come back with the change. His new friend did come back, but short changed him by twenty euros. Chance protested and a fight broke out. Chance being knocked heavily to the ground.

Most people's patience have run out with the guy. Nessa the Irish girl on crutches says he's obviously aggressive and she doesn't like aggression.

When no walking-tour was happening I returned to the hostel and Chance was in reception with two plain-clothes police officers. He has to attend a court hearing the following morning. When the police had left and Chance was out of earshot, Ivan on reception sighted saying "all the people that have stayed in the hostel over the three years I've been here and none have gotten into trouble before. I mean if someone talks to you who's obviously looking for money, you just say you don't understand and get away"

He spent the evening on the computer writing up his brief for the following morning. I felt one last morsel of pity for him as he was in trouble until I commented "Don't worry. You won't be going to jail" He threw it back at me saying "Its not me, its him that should be worried. I'm suing him" Really. "I'm representing myself. I probably won't get much damages off him as he has no money, but I'm going to make it as difficult for him as possible" he said in a spiteful manner and added "I should've beat the shit out of him when I had him in the plaza" Seems Nessa was right about his' aggression.

The strange thing, or it could be said about the hostel in Cadiz like most things in Spain, is it is so laid-back, breakfast doesn't start until ten. Obviously as I'm leaving, I'm up much earlier and have to put together my own breakfast. I forgot to buy bread to set about getting out the mixing-bowl and pan to make pancakes. Then Chance comes into the kitchen and he's going to talk to me and I'm in a hurry to get on the road.

"Hiya Sean. Are you going to cook me breakfast?" "No! I don't have any time this morning" He stands by the stove in my way and I shout out "I'm working here. Get out of the way!" "I'm working here too" he throws back and goes and takes a seat and sits for the rest of the time I'm there despondingly.

The remaining eggs not used in the pancakes, I boil for the road and a few other food items I leave in the free food box. Then write a note in the guestbook, saying how much I've enjoyed my stay and that I'll miss everybody.

It is a long ride from red-light to red-light down the main avenue through the new town and I get stuck behind a bus, which I hate as I can't see ahead, just the back of it; and when I get pass, it overtakes me again and pulls in in front of me at the next bus-stop.

Once through the roundabout at the end, I'm on the autovia upon the split with the ocean on the right and bay to the left and pass a sign: Sevilla 142 km; A bigger distance than I thought. At least there's no hills and the road, this wide-shoulder divided highway means I can ride fairly quickly and ahead it by-passes the city of Jerez, beyond which I join N4, a single carriageway road.

With nothing much to look at to the side, it is a day for inner thoughts. Ride the bike and daydream. Envisage other places. Plan. Think what is important. And perhaps because I've been off the bike three weeks I start feeling more tired than usual towards day's end and self-doubt creeps in. My journal writing is hopeless, so much so I think of writing no more. I don't like my photos. Why am I leaving when I like Cadiz so much. Perhaps I could come back next year. I want to do an on-line TEFL course which may take some time and I could move to Cadiz while studying.

My navigation is bad too. It is already dark as I'm heading into Sevilla. I come to a split in the highway and sign: N-lV, (4)my road, pointing to the outside lane, which I follow and am taken over a bridge and onto a road without street-lights and less traffic. I got the feeling this can't be the road. I continue for three kilometres until a gas station where I stop and ask. The woman in the shop confirms my fears; that I must go back to Bellavista where the turn off was and there turn left. It seemed obvious although the sign with N-lV pointed the wrong way.

The rest of the way into the city is straightforward with a good cycle-lane. I stop at the bullring and get out my Netbook on which I've downloaded a Google map. I'm going to be staying at The Garden hostel as I met the receptionist down in Cadiz for a few days holiday. It is ten when I eventually find the street, such is the caotic lay-out of streets running in all directions.

Today's ride: 146 km (91 miles)
Total: 7,255 km (4,505 miles)

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