Cycling, heat desert

HI All

Sorry its been a day or two - ive seen lots of lovely sights but due to recent circs e.g. the london bombings i have clean forgotten a few of them.

Anyway...yesterday still in alicante at 11a.m.- deciding whether to escape alicante for madrid, i eventually alighted on the idea of heading towards Murcia, partly biking it (47km and getting the train as well 40 km) - the ticket you get anywhere along the line is 2 euros fifty would put BR out of business immediately were you to follow suit.)

First despondent day- got a little burned in the desert stretches on my 40 km hike (total water drunk about 6 litres, total output 500mls very dark colour which either puts me in abject renal failure or just very dehydrated. Have opted for latter to be on safe side....the desert did actually get too dry to cross and i began to think "hmmm maybe this cycling around spain in 37 degrees was not such a good idea...ive not met an english speaker in days (normally not a problem but sain is first country ive not managed to get around in linguistically for a very long time) ive got a little heatstroke and i cant even put my bike in storage on the train and the train stops every 5 km so need to move bike away from door as locals keep saying loco Ingles when they see me. As only got ticket one way was very tempted just to keep going from murcia to madrid fly back and find a less bloody hot and mountainous country.

Anyway before i got on the train the 40km i did involved having to cycle 20km twice in order to pick up mobile from hotel! plus another 20km across desert- was in fact very enjoyable with slightly exhausting 1 in 50 hill climbs that just went on for km after km. However, spanish drivers are not as previously described manic deviants but incredibly courteous, takgin very long wide berthof any pasty looking morons on two wheels on the road.

I eventually made it to Elche (spelled Ex) and enjoyed sitting in cafe outside train station with v strong coffee and spanish book (which I think i might ditch at next possible moment). Elche is famous for two things palm trees (29000 of the bloody things line the immaculate streets (note this town is the size of clitheroe in lancs) and apparently they produce 20 million pairs of shoes a year as well.

Note...everything in this country is wonderfly slow....i turned up in time for the train (the guy said tris emeres which I took to mean 3 in the afternoon from the greek and not half three in spanish and so i settled down with the local newspaper and a lovely spanish potato and cheese flan....it nearly all wentr horribly wrong when i went to the wrong platform after reading hand written sign for platform two which i later found out the conductors remove about 1 minute before a train arrives ' imagine underground station steps (no escalators) withppor sod trying to hoof bike up and down stairs with unbelievably awkward panniers threatening to topple two wheels at any one moment.

Train jounrey was as above - fantastic desert scenes with scarey mid size mountains in every direction. I eventually arrived in Murcia, which I think must be a uni town judging by the innocent looking chiquitas in rugby tops at the railway station. Talking of chiq type sounding words what is it with spaniards and chihuahuas? I klnow the bloody things came from south america originally but they´re not big and they´re not clever.....ive seen sister shaggers from Gloucester walking around with ferrets on a string and you get the idea.

Murcia is a wonderful city - very colonial amazing buildings very tall buildinged thin alleyways that youcould possible run from one balcony to another. Managed to everntually find Pension HispaÑo II for 20 euros a night. But before that here is my first accident.

Just pedalled over river through alleyway onto mainroad...about to turn left into oncoming traffic before realising not in england and hey presto left knee hit by wing mirror of car doing 40 mph....lots of agony and then slow motion collapse of bike and rider (who...cant...get...the..damn...feet...out...of...the...pedals in time) onto ground on two outstretched hands and left knee...thankfully just v bad bruising and a gashed left slightly wobbly knee and skin missing off shin....Hey im no longer a crash virgin!

Bike thankfully ok as body took the main impact.

Back at the hotel got bike upstairs (this pension looks like a 1930´s evita peron in Argentina type place very dark inside and well lit in the front rooms on first floor which gives me ample opportunity to watch people walk on the marble tiles outside (everywhere is either gold plated or marble in this city how the hell do they afford it?), ample opportunity to either drop peanuts down the cleaveage of beauties (as if!!!)below or to note that men tend to walk alone in the evening and mother and daughter (whether 35 and 10 or 75 and 50 without exception shop together...the young children still wear virgin white dresses to the ankle...there are the peasant folk (local gypsies despised by the bolder lighter skinned iberians here) and the musicians whos repertoire on guitars and squeezeboxes seems more 40´s french than spanish.

Of course the hotel is in an alleyway overlooking the biggest FUCK OFF gargantuan cathedral i have seen in a long time! YOu´´ll have to excuse thelast expletive once of the guys I met in the hotel is very ,very camp and knows stonyhurst and i was imitating him plus his friend Kate who is also a teacher at the same school on holiday. After denying alcohol for total of 15 mins on the grounds I might like to cycle the next day i thought sod it im on holiday.....my god english speaking people whom i normally avoind like the plague what a god send!

the usual story ensues of going out with them for tapas at 8pm then coming home at 3pm after 100 euros worth of boozing and if you ever get the chance then there is a little bar called....damn...i cant rememer.... alcohol poisoning with a lovely bar man that both andrew and kate fancied.

Today was spent at the local municipal pool that shames the olympic one in swansea (why do so called poorer countries in rurope get their priorities right?) and am now beetroot colored after lovely day in sun failing to do telegraph cryptic crossword!

And so we get onto the subject of bombings....i dont have a great deal to say on the matter other than that already texted to everyone on my phone, but short and and simple....murder, especially such indiscriminate kind is unforgivable and anyone who undertakes it will get their just desserts, I could say more but this blog would turn very very ugly in a very very short period of time. I would prefer that such things had not happened but there we go

On a lighter note and appalling joke from Andrew of Oxford Uni

Q: How many Oxford Dons does it take to change a light bulb?
A: (with glasses perched on nose) like an Oxford Don "Change? Change? what on earth is that?)

Oh well

Heres some personal messages

Go home, be good, sleep tight

Love Jamie xx