Pugsworth in Malaga
Just getting to Malaga proved an adventure in itself. The train trip required a 2 hour wait in the middle at a point only 40kms from Malaga so I decided to ride it instead. Getting off at Antequera I was trying to orient myself and seeing mountains on one side of town and flat on the rest I said to myself ´I probably have to go over those´. Naturally I, (well Murphy I suppose) was right and they were some mountains! The road just kept going up and up, corner after corner revealing only more up. Some of it was fairly steep and of course the wind was blowing in the wrong direction as well. I think it was about 10km of uphill and probably one of the toughest climbs I've done, for the record: Antequera to Villaneuva de la Conception. The descent was equally steep and as I careered my way down through a small village a partially lame dog tried to cross the road in front of me. I assumed it would see me coming and get out of the way but it was obviously missing something upstairs because it stared at me and didn't move. At the last the minute I yelled at it and it moved just in time to prevent a collision but not the snapping of my front brake cable as I gave it an extra squeeze.
Further on the road leveled out a little but continued to descend through a magnificent gorge gradually coming down to the level of the river. It was a beautiful ride through a remote and beautiful area - to a dead end. At the bottom of the valley there had a been recent landslide completely burying the road leaving the river to flow through what's left of the bottom of the valley. There was a detour for the traffic but it began with a steep climb of several kilometers and I'd done one of those already that afternoon. The river was less than a foot deep and the road was only buried for about 50m so after climbing ahead on foot to check it out I decided to try and ride through. The bottom was quite rocky and knew that I wouldn't make it through without at least having to put one foot in the water so this became a weird use for the odd old shoe I was carrying. (A whole nother story, but during one of my mountain climbing days at Bornos, the sole had become mostly unstuck from my left shoe. The odd thing was about this was it is the first time I have worn out my left shoe first (I think due to the fact that I kick a soccer ball right footed but had hardly done this while travelling but use my left foot to push off on the bike). So at home I have several perfectly good left shoes and here a perfectly good right one that I couldn't bear to through away. I considered sending the old pair to ´The Cobbler c/- 29 Arnott St, Melbourne (my parents address) but decided €18 (A$30) wasn't worth it so I simply decided to tie the right shoe to the outside of my paniers and take it with me! Nuts, I know). However it actually came in handy now as I put it on and tried to put it in the water and the not the other foot when I had to step down for balance over the rocky bottom, it mostly worked too. I only managed to ride about 15 meters but then walked along the bottom of the landslide with my good left shoe on mostly dry rocks and my right in the water because I didn't want to disturb the landslide more than necessary. I made it through without incident and two dry shoes out of three! Feeling confident I tried an old road that looked like it was about to become the new road but having made it through a supposedly impassible landslide I was forced to turn back at a steep muddy hilly that actually was impassable (with a bike at least). Then I discovered that the hill climbing was not over yet and it would have been easier to take the detour - but not made as good a story!
By the time I got to Malaga it was getting dark and then it me another hour or two to find the hostel so I didn't arrive until 10:30. The reward though was sharing room with Simon and Arte from the UK and a fascinating discussion with them about violence. Arte is a Geordie (from Newcastle) and when I said I didn't believe in violence he told me I wasn't entitled to take such a view until I'd had my head stomped on and stomped on someone elses. Arte is a kind hearted man who avoids violence wherever possible but has experienced both and feels that sometimes violence is the only language you can use to protect yourself. Maybe he's right, should I try it before I deny it?
Malaga is a beautiful and relaxed seaside city with a history spanning several civilisations. In the bottom of the Picasso Museum (he was born in Malaga) we found the excavated original city wall built not by the Arabs or even the Romans but the Phoenicians! Since then it has been occupied by Romans, Visigoths, the Moors, and Christians. How many cities can claim to have a been an important port to five distinct civilisations? Apart from that the Alcazba, situated above the restored Roman amphitheater, was the main highlight. The steep climb to the top ensured an excellent view though still no sign of Africa and I was interested to find something of a botanical garden initiated by one of the princesses and quite a bit of information in Spanish (which I was able to make something of) about the variety plants grown and their traditional uses.
Further on the road leveled out a little but continued to descend through a magnificent gorge gradually coming down to the level of the river. It was a beautiful ride through a remote and beautiful area - to a dead end. At the bottom of the valley there had a been recent landslide completely burying the road leaving the river to flow through what's left of the bottom of the valley. There was a detour for the traffic but it began with a steep climb of several kilometers and I'd done one of those already that afternoon. The river was less than a foot deep and the road was only buried for about 50m so after climbing ahead on foot to check it out I decided to try and ride through. The bottom was quite rocky and knew that I wouldn't make it through without at least having to put one foot in the water so this became a weird use for the odd old shoe I was carrying. (A whole nother story, but during one of my mountain climbing days at Bornos, the sole had become mostly unstuck from my left shoe. The odd thing was about this was it is the first time I have worn out my left shoe first (I think due to the fact that I kick a soccer ball right footed but had hardly done this while travelling but use my left foot to push off on the bike). So at home I have several perfectly good left shoes and here a perfectly good right one that I couldn't bear to through away. I considered sending the old pair to ´The Cobbler c/- 29 Arnott St, Melbourne (my parents address) but decided €18 (A$30) wasn't worth it so I simply decided to tie the right shoe to the outside of my paniers and take it with me! Nuts, I know). However it actually came in handy now as I put it on and tried to put it in the water and the not the other foot when I had to step down for balance over the rocky bottom, it mostly worked too. I only managed to ride about 15 meters but then walked along the bottom of the landslide with my good left shoe on mostly dry rocks and my right in the water because I didn't want to disturb the landslide more than necessary. I made it through without incident and two dry shoes out of three! Feeling confident I tried an old road that looked like it was about to become the new road but having made it through a supposedly impassible landslide I was forced to turn back at a steep muddy hilly that actually was impassable (with a bike at least). Then I discovered that the hill climbing was not over yet and it would have been easier to take the detour - but not made as good a story!
By the time I got to Malaga it was getting dark and then it me another hour or two to find the hostel so I didn't arrive until 10:30. The reward though was sharing room with Simon and Arte from the UK and a fascinating discussion with them about violence. Arte is a Geordie (from Newcastle) and when I said I didn't believe in violence he told me I wasn't entitled to take such a view until I'd had my head stomped on and stomped on someone elses. Arte is a kind hearted man who avoids violence wherever possible but has experienced both and feels that sometimes violence is the only language you can use to protect yourself. Maybe he's right, should I try it before I deny it?
Malaga is a beautiful and relaxed seaside city with a history spanning several civilisations. In the bottom of the Picasso Museum (he was born in Malaga) we found the excavated original city wall built not by the Arabs or even the Romans but the Phoenicians! Since then it has been occupied by Romans, Visigoths, the Moors, and Christians. How many cities can claim to have a been an important port to five distinct civilisations? Apart from that the Alcazba, situated above the restored Roman amphitheater, was the main highlight. The steep climb to the top ensured an excellent view though still no sign of Africa and I was interested to find something of a botanical garden initiated by one of the princesses and quite a bit of information in Spanish (which I was able to make something of) about the variety plants grown and their traditional uses.
posted by James Tonson | 9:15 am
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home