Friday, March 28^th, 2003  Cordoba – Lora del Rio, 88 km.

The weather has changed. The barometer reads 1023 mbr.; yesterday 950 mbr. The wind has turned and is coming out of the west, but not severe. Today’s ride is cross country mainly along the Guadalquivir which in the next few days will lead me to the Atlantic coast. From Sevilla on it’s navigable. The Romans used it more than 2000 years ago. They mined silver from the Asturisch mountains,” Ruta de la Plata” (the silver route) and stretches from Sevilla to Gijon on the Gulf of Biscaya. Last year I rode here until Astorga, then followed the Jacobs-Trail to Santiago de Compostela. So – back to the trip. When I wanted to take off in the morning, my front tire looked suspiciously soft. To reach the main road I had to pass through an industrial area. I saw a restaurant where several workers were having their morning snack/tea. I got a good breakfast there, then when I wanted to ride on, I realized that something would have to be done about my front tire. The proprietor gave me a bucket of water and I went to work out in front of the door. Before long I was surrounded by a group of men wanting to know where I’d come from and where I was off to. As I told them about my trip, some of them took over my work and in no time the tire was repaired and I was ready to go. At km. 29 an insect landed exactly on the kilometre counter (odometer). It enjoyed the ride for 3 km. then probably thought, if this doesn’t go any faster I need my wings, and it flew off. The landscape of the Guadalquivir looks really fertile. Olive trees interchanging with orange plantations, so many that you had to ask yourself who was going to eat all these oranges. Beans, grain, etc. ; the whole valley one big fruit and vegetable garden. I stopped for lunch 60 km. later in Palma del Rio. When I wanted to leave, the front tire was low again. My first thought was that my “buddies “ hadn’t taken their work too seriously this morning, but that was not the case. It was a small puncture the same distance from the valve as the first hole but in the opposite direction. This should have given me a clue, but it wasn’t until the next day when it happened for the third time that I found the culprit . A small metal splinter had penetrated inside the tire. With a pair of pliers I removed it, then didn’t have anymore problems with the bike for the remainder of the trip. In Lora del Rio I found a really nicely built hostel. In the middle was a big patio covered with a glass dome. A veranda with the typical andalusian archway led into the room. In the evening I always have “una copa de vino tinto “ with an appetizer, sometimes olives or garlic cloves marinated in oil, mixed nuts, a piece if cheese or sausage, In this regard, the Spaniards have a great imagination. Often the wine is served cold out of the fridge (you should say ”no frio” if you don’t like it cold).

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