Riding the Spanish highways

All the bikes roll off the ferry with roars and pops. We all go in a convoy and then slowly peel off to our individual destinations until there is only me, eating the tarmac with my bike, alone, warm and loving it.

I get off the main highway as quick as I can and switch to the smaller, twistier A-roads. The bike loves it. I love the bike. What could possibly go wrong? (see entries later as to what could possibly happen! But at this particular moment, there is only me, the road and the bike making life poetry together.)

I rode through a huge valley and began the climb up the valley walls. Halfway up I stopped for lunch, cooking some 2 minute noodles (plus an oxo cube for that extra special occassion) and eating the pot contents using some pliers I found in my toolkit. I love this life, this beautiful basic life. The view is stunning. Life on the road. Happy marky.



The view...


Riding through sunflower fields...