Friday the 13th! total kilometres: 7

Wow wow wow

I´ve had less time to write the past few days, we´ve been rolling into camp late after long siestas to try and escape the searing heat of the mid-day sun - which doesn´t seem to cool off till about 8pm most days!

We´ve been making good progress and passing through some incredibly beautiful places, spent most of our day on wednesday by the river in Ledesma, when it really was too hot to move.

Yeasterday we made amazingly quick miles down diddy little bumpy roads to Fonte...., for lunch, finishing the morning with a whooshing descent with a daunting backdrop of bruised sillhouettes of the looming mountains we´re approaching on the horizon.

Such a contrast to see these dramatic shapes after days and days of corn and flat, but the beauty was definately tainted by the knowledge that we´re going to have to climb them at some point- the image of that relentless, exhausting climb to Reinosa at the beginning ofg our trip flashing up in my mind.

But straining with our laden steeds into the main plaza of Forte we caught sight of 2 grinning, sunburned faces above colourfully dressed bodies beneath straw hats-

Mary and Chris pointed out their equally heavily laden bikes leaning against a wall-

"Boom?"

"Of course!"

We had a delicious tapas lunch together and spread out our battered maps an the hot plastic table, to compare our route so far and discuss our patchy plans for the next few days.

Turns out that on top of being really lovely, they´ve been advised to visit a really beautiful area with loads of good swimmimng spots- all the roads and rivers are wiggly squiggly on the map so we guessed it´d be hilly- but we´ve got ages and we´re really close now so we headed off together after lunch.

It´s lovely to look back whilst cruising and instead of seeing 2 golden bodies and well loved bicycles speeding along I see a much more substantial gaggle of 4, and I know that we´re all doing the same thing, going to the same placew, we´re all eating together and sleeping under the (shooting) stars.

What an amazing bunch, I feel so lucky.

Every day is filled with beauty, every evening with indulgent luxury.

I don´t know what I had in mind when I set out on this trip, gruelling, deprived, harrowing challenge maybe, but lavish meals chocolate fondue on the roadside meteor showers instead of real ones river bathing massage songs & scenery seems too good tp be tyrue right now; the festival at the end (middle?) of it all seems almost like a bonus rather than the purpose of the adventure.

And O.K., we´re not htere yet but we´re pretty damn close; (We´ve got 4 days to get about 150k) but this is really seems like it´s ben easy.
Not just easy butfun, exciting, horizon-expanding, educational, beautiful and addictive. ( I keep thinking of places I want to cycle to!)

The look of horror on people´s faces, when y9ou tell them you´re taking this kind of journey, can sometimes almost be enough to put you off- but all it says to me now is how much our modern, fast ways of travelling have taken away the focus from the journey and made it all about the destination, reducing our power as individuals to get where you want to be.

Flying on planes and even getting on trains gives your "A" and "B" a seperateness; makes the places imbetween seem unimportant and not worth bothering with somehow.

But people need to remember that they can get from place to place under their own steam - and that it´s a joy, rather tahn an inconvenience or a bother, like waiting for a delayed train, sitting in a soul-less departure lounge or choking in a traffic jam.

I´m thinking of a passage in my inspirational housemate Babs´ book, Babs to Brisbane, where she reminds us of what flying is- the taming of the skies in a massive conquering of an element, through humankinds innovation and incredible skills- which has been turned into a boring, reluctant removal of journeys, which most people take for granted and yet despise. Not to mention the C word...

Today we left our glorious riverside spot and headed towards that squiggly bit I mentioned. Now I´m writing by candlelight after eating a gourmet meal on a proper table by another wide, smooth-flowing river.

We came here by winding country lanes embraced by incredibly licheny trees and rambling stone walls.

Those looming mountainous sillhouettes gradually emerging from the shroud of distance, their fields and forests and rocky faces becoming perceptible and altogether less intimidating with each stroke of the pedals.

I kept expecting it to somehow get ´worse,´harder or something, but the good company, berautiful scenery, conversation, smiles and excitement of the approaching festival kept any altitude worries at bay, and before we know it the mountains stretched out beneath us and we´d found this perfect spot in thes waterside oak woodland which we´ve made our home as the local bathers have trickled away with the light; our only company the cows with their twinking bells adn the stars with their twinkling laughter... (Do the cows with bells on mind? Do they feel more important?)