Wednesday: Olive Grove Camp to 11 KM beyond Priego de Cordoba.

August 20, 2014

The working day starts early here. Rising soon after dawn intending to get away early before anybody would be about. But it takes time cooking porridge and the sun has barely broken over the hills when I hear a tractor approaching through the olive grove. The tractor halts a little way off and I hear two men converse for something like five minutes as I sit in the tent opening, drinking tea anticipating a bit of explaining to do. Then starts up again coming my way. It come pass the last olive trees shielding my tent and there is no longer any hiding. I stand up hoping for the best and wave. A young man with a pencil moustache smiles and waves back from the cab of a shiny green John Deere. The tractor with a cultivator on behind continues on down between the rows of olive trees. The driver presumably seeing the bike and that I'm some foreigner doing no harm.

The smooth surfaced roads with adequate shoulders I've ridden on so far have ceased. The road now A316 has signs of being rebuilt, I've mentioned in the previous page, extended to dual-carriageway autopista. The scheme being abandoned presumably because of the recession. The single carriageway with vacant unfinished band running alongside (though cannot be ridden upon because of regular cross trenches) has next to no shoulder and a deformed and broken edge. But the final stretch to Jaen was finished and from my olive grove campsite I'm on the traffic free service road into town which happens to be a sizable city with a university and nice water-sprinkler greens in a central plaza. A reprieve before taking the road out to dry parched country again, where the only way onwards is the autopista.

Avoiding the Autovia, or, Autopista. They have both in Spain. Some of the former don't have, no pedestrians, no cycling, no slow vehicle signs.

This service road stops shortly after a furniture superstore.

All morning I'm riding the shoulder of A316. A for Andalucía. The road though is called an Autovia, not an Autopista as before, therefore seemingly lawful to cycle upon as there are no round signs with a red stroke across a horse and carriage, bike nor walker therein at entry slips.

I reach Martos by a lofty hill just before one. Another extremely pleasant town centre where I sit down to eat on a masonry bench in a tree-lined pedestrianized avenue.

Two old men walk slowly with pains of age over and look at my bike. They say a few words mutely between themselves before one turns to face me and speaks up asking usual questions and goes on to tell me he cycled from Rome, as he lights a strong old fashion looking cigarette. Though he speaks like a volleying machinegun I get the jist. He cycled from Rome the pilgrim route to Santiago del Compostela, then home to Murtos. Judging by his octogenarian age it may have been many many decades ago.

In the afternoon the road reverts to single carriageway and after a few sharp inclines makes a gentle straight roll down to a tee-junction with a large parking area by a service station on the left corner where I stop for shade and a coffee before continuing, turning right towards Cordoba. Then after a couple of Ks sharp downhill turn left towards Priego de Cordoba, which I reach as the sun is looking low. The town centre's narrow streets a bustling place of teenagers and children and a killer steep climb onwards.

Leaving Martos: Old kilometre marker stone left intact when the modern apartments on the left were built.

Today's ride: 114 km (71 miles)
Total: 4,325 km (2,686 miles)

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