Day 4 — Friday 29 April 2011

Ubrique – Grazalema

This morning I tried to pay the landlady with a €50 note that she couldn't change, so I walked down the road for some breakfast in a bar and to get some change. It had rained in the night and my bike had been drenched in the central light well of the building. It was still drizzling as I set off although it eased up after quarter of hour. The air was humid and quite chilly and although I climbed steadily throughout the day it was easier than yesterday and I didn't need to walk at all. Perhaps after three days riding I'd settled into a rhythm and found a bit of fitness from somewhere. As I approached Grazalema there were road side signs showing points of interest and a number of car park viewing points. Getting into the centre of the town was a bit confusing as I have to go round the houses to get there. As I rode into the centre I saw the tourist information office and got directions to the camp site at the top of the town. The road goes all round the edge but it is possible to walk straight down to the centre. At the camp site there were a few people camping and I found the manager in her chalet, who directed me to a particular plot that was likely to survive the rain that she assured me was on the way.

She was right as for the next 36 hours it rained on and off and some of the camping plots became small lakes. I showered and washed my sweaty clothing, which I hung on a handy bit of washing line someone had left between two trees and there it stayed for the rest of time alternately almost drying out and then getting a fresh rinse. I went down into the town and had a good meal. Grazalema is a heritage site and is swarming with tourists and coach parties. In the sun it would be fabulous but it was still raining so I went back to the camp site and lay in my tent writing up my diary and sent a text to Liz.

I decided to have a rest day on Saturday and explore Grazalema although it turned out to be wetter than I had hoped. The wind was especially strong during the night and in the morning cloud was low over the surrounding peaks. I felt quite envious of Liz and Eva who would have been in Bilbao today and starting to sail home in their nice warm ship. Breakfast of bocadillo (sandwich) with jam before venturing into the down for a more substantial desayuno. I had left the map case with my spare maps under the flysheet instead of bringing it into the tent and it had got wet. I had to spread the wet maps out in the tent and after a few hours they were dry again, but it taught me to be more careful.

I sat in a warm restaurant for my mid-day meal and then walked back up to the campsite exploring as I went in the drizzle. the coffee bar at the camp site was shut and it was raining so I stood in the gents toilets leaning on a disused (but clean) urinal to write my diary. I should really have found a nice warm bar with a television and watched the endless day-time cookery programmes and possibly a good bull fight in the evening, but that came later with experience.

I'm afraid the bicycle had to soak up the rain but I did cover the Brooks saddle with a polythene bag and cover the mileometer connector as well. My Jack Wolfskin “Gossamer” tent is what it says it is, small and light, but thankfully as dry as a bone. There is no bell for kit, so I had to be careful and organised in laying out my panniers down one side leaving enough space for me to sleep on the other. The inside tent is effectively a mosquito net with a sown-in ground-sheet that does not keep the warmth in. The fly-sheet is permanently attached to the inner, but in really hot conditions it can be rolled back to allow you to gaze at the stars. This was not the night for gazing at anything, and I lay listening to the rain pounding on the tent until about four in the morning when I became aware of a wonderful stillness. I poked my head out and saw stars. Sure enough the sun crept over the surrounding peaks in the morning and I draped the tent and various other bits and pieces over a fence to dry off.