Round 6: 2013 Ramble 1

Day 8 - Lagos to Oura

Before I go on I forgot to say thanks to brianmaslen for his helpful pointers on Sintra and Coimbra :thumb

OK. Not far to go today so we're dancing to a very leisurely tune. A good deal more leisurely it could have been, since I've been back in Portugal I've forgotten that they're on UK time so I've been an hour ahead of myself. Dim wit.

A very nice breakfast, good fresh bread. Miguel is back to his cool self. I liked Lagos; less touristy than many other parts of the Algarve that I've been to. Miguel had mentioned that (impartially) he thought it the most unspoiled of the seaside towns and resorts and it was the most economic, which from dinner last night and certainly his bar prices were witness to ;)

So the plan today is to head up in to the hills on a run recommended by Humbug. In no time at all we're clear of Lagos and working our way up to the aforementioned hills. I'm on one of the 'M' class roads, the undulations of the road are superb. A real grin. Suspension by Zebedee. Very good GS riding :D

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We shall not be moo-ved. Didn't want to shift, this lot. I had to be careful too as there were calves about. Once I did get through the farmer following along in his truck and I had a non-language specific giggle.

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Coffee is taken in Monchique. 27 degrees it registers in the square, so feet up in the sun. A Spanish registered GS circles and stops, cue a meet with Juan Carlos from Granada who is here for a four day break with Mrs JC. We chat bikes for a while, good chap. He's on an '08 GS which went bang after he stuck the wrong fuel in it and BMW didn't sort it properly. Then followed a bigger bang and an even bigger squabble. Ah, the virtues of arguing the toss with BMW and their warranty. But now fixed he tells me it is better than ever and he's one happy esGSer.

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As recommended by a Goldwing trike owner who drops by the cafe there's a short run up to Foiva, the highest point in the Algarve, which I'm recommended is worth doing :thumb2

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A good pointer, too- great views back down to Portimao on the coast and out to the ocean beyond.

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I'd read somewhere that Eucalyptus in Portugal had been subject to some sort of rot, there were more than a fair share of gnarly examples up in the hills..

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On we go, and fifteen or so very entertaining miles were done on the N267, very good rapid going in fact. There look to be plenty of fun roads worth exploring here so it'll be rude not to pop back.

And finally linking back to the main road back to the coast..

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Hotel sorted.. and I'm here for a week or so.. :thumb

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:beerjug:
 
Days 9-18 - Algarve

Well in a hell of a non-coincidence I manage to run into my old football team on their 2013 tour. So a few of these..

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And a few good times..

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The good living continues. How's that for an Elephant's leg?

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After a week of that I'm picking a passenger up for the next leg (not Elephant related) so there's a blast down to Faro airport. Flat out down an empty Algarve A22 motorway.. that'll blast the cobwebs out of it.

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Day 19 - Oura to Ronda

Time to confine the flip flops back to the bag.

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A miserable day to end to some terrific sunny days on the coast. We were due to ship out yesterday but as the forecast changed we held on for a few more rays and some decent nosebag.

Today I get the feeling we might have held on a bit too long. It is raining a lot. Not even an early morning Portuguese custard tart and a coffee could improve my mood. Wringing wet, ten degrees- the Algarve has a positive Filey feel to it.

Might have had one too many vino tinto last night. Look bad, feel worse.

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What to do? Given that the forecast looks crap and the SAT24.com image is Spain under a blanket of rapidly east heading cloud it seems the right thing to just get on the motorway and motor off into the distance. So we do that.

My companion is well versed in the concept of bad days on the bike, but as yet has have experienced such days on the back. I explain that some days it is just about racking off the miles and shuttling from petrol station to petrol station. And so it proves to be, an hour and a bit at a time and dropping by Galp, Repsol and Cepsa, eating their unhealthy snacks and drinking their coffee.

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Ah. Here’s one of those brief stops. Oh, and note that the pillion passenger is wearing the rain jacket. Yes, the observant amongst us will have noted the term 'the'. It is the only, and my rain jacket. I on the other hand, for this trip have been relegated to a poncy North Face (what I think is) waterproof jacket, but it isn't. What it is, well, it is just a little bit better than no use at all. If you haven't sold your Aston Martin to buy a Rukka Suit you can't beat those plastic herbert jackets, and being the all round gent and good egg that I am, mine is being worn by someone else.

South East of Seville we pick up the A375 off towards Ronda. Under usual circumstances this would be a terrific road. Decently fast, flowing and with great scenery as we move into the mountainous terrain and through the glorious ups and downs. However. Today, the scenery is much hidden by low menacing clouds, there's one hell of a crosswind.. And to turn a phrase it is pissing down. The rain goes sideways across my visor, upwards at points in a comedy fashion. The bike is a right handful, to the point where I can't even leave it in my favourite lolling along 6th gear and pootle- you need to be right on the revs for balance as though you're cornering right at the limit. When the wind doesn't blow right to left and we get in some sort of cover it just bites back going right to left.

Hard work.

We roll into Ronda around 5pm. Now we're here the weather clears slightly and we check into the charming and budget friendly Royal Hotel. Nice people and English spoken. No parking, but the helpful chappy let on that there's street space for Motos just around the corner. That works.

A good room is sourced with an in room temperature controller that goes up to 32. Aha, let the drying out duties commence!

We're still early enough for a walk of the town and the rain has eased.

The Puente Nuevo across the Tajo gorge. Wow.

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Just magnificent views

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The Parador. Nice view from that, too..

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Evil Skies. I think you can probably sense what we left on the road earlier..

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Some local lads interview me for a school project. Their English is first class. Nice.

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Stopping for Tapas..

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And a bit more..

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Splendid :beerjug:
 
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remove the barnet and its muf - OMG :D (he'll kill me :D)

(sorry)

the bridge <3 - gorge is gorgeous

shame about the weather - isnt the ronda road kinda like cat and fiddle/a272/a68 of spain??
 
:blast

Well I think this might have wrapped things up for now, at least until I get back home.

Repeat to self a thousand times: "Thou shalt not get pissed and sit on thou's laptop". Consequences of: Screen is buggered and barely visible with a sort of Warhol-esque negative effect.

Don't think I've got the fortitude to do this from the Blackberry Plaything or the Smartphone as they both drive me crackers.

And this thing isn't charging now either :(

Losing power..

..Daisy, daisy give me your answer do..
 
:blast

Well I think this might have wrapped things up for now, at least until I get back home.

Repeat to self a thousand times: "Thou shalt not get pissed and sit on thou's laptop". Consequences of: Screen is buggered and barely visible with a sort of Warhol-esque negative effect.

Don't think I've got the fortitude to do this from the Blackberry Plaything or the Smartphone as they both drive me crackers.

And this thing isn't charging now either :(

Losing power..

..Daisy, daisy give me your answer do..

Oh no:tears Do you want me to FedEx a new laptop to your hotel?:thumb
 
Oh no:tears Do you want me to FedEx a new laptop to your hotel?:thumb

You da man! :thumb2

Now I would have taken you up on that but have just snaffled some cricket tickets..so will pop home shortly..

Cheers buddy, enjoy Italia!
Rob :thumby:

:beerjug:
 
You da man! :thumb2

Now I would have taken you up on that but have just snaffled some cricket tickets..so will pop home shortly..

Cheers buddy, enjoy Italia!
Rob :thumby:

:beerjug:

Cheers Rob:thumb
 
Day 20 - Ronda to Granada

Well, the weather has cleared. How very jolly. We’ve a few things on the agenda, and that is so rarely the case so we’re up very early to explore a little more of the town which was rudely interrupted when a combination of rain, tapas and Rioja stopped play last night.

We’re off to the Bullring. Spain’s oldest evidently. It doesn’t open until ten, so there’s a chance to grab breakfast in a side street in about the only place that seemed to be open in town. Nice place though. A cheery senorita serves good coffee and pastries.

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The bullring is a terrific visit. A wonderful piece of architecture, at least from the inside.

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Splendid..

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Standard arsing about ensues (note this is compulsory behaviour for tourists of Anglo Saxon origin).

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Not my kind of space, however at least I could actually jam myself in this one, rather than the dreadful impossibilities faced on the last Iberian Ramble..

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..and a few interesting sights to see from the exhibits behind the scenes, too.

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The bullring visit gets a big thumbs up.

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Brilliant :beerjug:

Off we go, then, heading North East, looking for El Chorro. Not as easy as it may seem. Garmin doesn’t seem to acknowledge it (?) and it is a town too. Hmm. Oh, and plenty of Spanish road building and diversion efforts shove us off in differing directions to add to the fun.

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We found this nice little Castillo, though..

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A stop for a drink with a new found friend to clarify on directions. Hello, old chap.

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Finally we wind into the hills and are on our way and twenty minutes later we’re there.

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And very impressive it is too.

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The King’s Path around the cliff looks like it has seen far better days, mind.

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On we go, then.

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...
 
... day 20 to Granada continued..

A lot of back road riding is done; even the major roads are particularly winding and so it takes time to cover ground, but there’s no hassle.

A few coffees later (and some Jamon Iberico, naturally ;) ) we opt to take the Autovia for a leisurely hour of motorway in to Granada to round things off. What makes the motorway particularly palatable was the now splendid scenery; the miles pass effortlessly in the late afternoon sunshine.

We book in to the supposedly four star Hotel Alixares. It has very mixed reviews but what the hell, the location is good for what we’re after. The hotel is a doddle to find and despite its seventies reception charm the room is small and adequate. The bike goes into the underground car park so that is a welcome feature.

Settled in we debate whether to go in to town or just settle in for a night in so we can get an early start to tomorrow’s tourist attractions.
Eventually we say to go out and decide to treat ourselves to a taxi in to town. In trying to take us down to the town we’re thwarted by seemingly very bored Guardia Civil who keep diverting us- go around, go around. We kind of go a long way to go a short distance, but the taxi driver tells us there are 30 different street processions taking place tonight, so he gets us as close in as possible and only wants 5 euro despite the demands of the meter. A good egg.

Wandering in to the town and we can already hear the bands playing in the distance, so we’re chopping through the mazy streets to find one of the many events..

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Ah.. a hostelry. The shelter of the bar from the madding crowd :ChrisKelly

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A great find.

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Nice drop of the old red, this. Fruity bucket, don’t you know :D

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And some light tapa action..

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Back to the entertainment..

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The processions even follow you to the pub.. look there’s one outside..

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Those rose petals play havoc with yer flip-flops..

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No taxis as the processions are still winding their way around the town until the small hours, so there’s the small matter of climbing from the town back up to the hotel.

Someone is not at all happy about that..

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Come along now, keep up at the back :D

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Back at the hotel, peculiarly everyone has gone to bed. There’s a good deal of rattling around until a night porter eventually shows up and opens the door. Four stars? This isn’t a Paignton guest house mate..!

And so to bed. Cracking day.
 


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