Day forty six

 

A view from the restaurant Casa de Comidas, I would recommend eating here to anyone passing between Motril and Nerja.

I leave the port hotel in Motril at 9:00 after a cafe con leche and some honey on bread that I make myself, plus a kiwi fruit and satsuma. I knew today would be tough as the elevation I had to reach was twice that of the previous day and included a number of climbs. My aim however was to at least get the climbs behind me even if I did not get very close to Malaga. Knowing that I decided to dump some stuff to lighten the load. I posted off 5.5kgs and soon after had to climb steps to reach the N340. I only just managed it and the extra 5.5kgs may well have made that impossible. In the end I achieved my goal but it took all day and I only managed to cover just over 40km. 

The first climb, which I delude myself into thinking must be the highest, I reach around lunchtime and at the top was a super restaurant where I felt I must stop for lunch. It was a good decision. The blue painted Casa de Comidas was clearly the place to go with Michelin star food at Spanish prices and was soon packed. I was tempted by the fish but after last night abstained and went for a 'simple' cheese and onion tartlet. WOW, it took a while as it was being freshly prepared and I was expecting a precooked quiche like affair. When it arrived it was a work of art. Glazed onions on a filo pastry base with a goats cheese sphere, fresh tomato sauce and something sweet like a fig marmalade, plus various interesting herbs. It came with fried potatoes. I was tempted to take a photo but did not wish to cheapen the ambience.

A place to eat, top food that was inexpensive in dramatic surroundings, overlooking the Med.

After a coffee mousse I am on my way again and soon hit the real climbs. For the most part the route is the N340 but the long climbs soon wear me out. I walk much of the way, pushing the bike close to the Armco barrier, keeping inside of the white line, away from the traffic. It is mind numbingly boring and tiresome. An hour pushing then a 5 minute downhill rush, then an hour pushing again and so on. Much of the advantages of the downhill runs are dashed by tight curves, round-a-bouts, traffic lights and dangerous road surfaces forcing me to wear out my brakes. Meanwhile my left ankle was being cooked by the sun as if it was in a grill oven.

Finally around 17:00 the big hills are behind me but I have only reached Nerja. I decide to find a hotel here as Malaga is now only 60km away, which I can easily do tomorrow. That means I could arrive in Fuengirola on Sunday, an ETA I predicted several weeks back. I find a hostal, it's not cheap but then it's more like a luxury hotel and my bike joins me in my large ground floor room, which has a double bed and single bed. I think it is appropriate that my bike joins me now, it has been a dream, totally indestructible, despite bouncing through some seriously rough dirt tracks and a certain amount of neglect by me regarding oiling parts, checking nuts and tyre pressures. It was the perfect bike for such a journey and proved that Giant bikes deserve their good reputation. 

I am told by the receptionist that there is a flamenco night this evening on Nerja's balcony (Europe's balcony), so soon I shall be off to take a look and maybe even take a photo for today's blog.

Nerja by night from its 'balcony of Europe', a wide pier that extends out into the sea.

Nerja certainly has a lively nightlife, packed with tourists and a maze of interesting narrow streets leading down to the seafront. I didn't see any flamenco dancers this evening but there was certainly going to be a concert of some sort but it had yet to begin. It looks like the place to be if you are young fashion conscious with some cash to spare. It looked like a place to explore further but I may have to pass on that. I need my sleep