Close to the top of the
village’s tangled labrynth of one-way lanes was our brief stay at the Hostal Durán. Come morning, it was about to be one of the more difficult places to
draw ourselves away from since leaving Solsona four weeks earlier. But it
wasn’t just for its comfortable accommodation, mouth-watering menu and
convivial proprietor.
Álora's narrow streets. |
More vesper-friendly than a
thoroughfare for larger vehicles, the network of steep and narrow streets so
common throughout Andalusia’s hilltop towns was fast becoming a daily challenge
for Roz; and Álora was no exception. Having spent a good part of the evening
before, wandering the near-empty streets in search of the easiest route out of
the village, we were approached by an elderly gentleman, who in all likelihood
needed some immediate help of his own. Out of breath and looking rather
anxious, it wasn’t until we caught a glimpse of the plume of smoke wafting
behind him that we realised that it may have been help of a more serious kind.
Concerned, we accompanied him a short distance down the street.
There, sitting lifeless and
still reeking of toxic smoke, sat a 1970’s Spanish SEAT. Its outdated shape and
rust-infested exterior suggested that its days of travelling up 30% gradients
were all but over. While my immediate
thought was to offer the best help I could, perhaps a sympathetic smile and an
attempt to fetch someone who might know what they’re doing, I at least felt
obliged to look under the bonnet of the car.
As expected, the engine was
covered in oil and black soot, a dead giveaway that it was covered in oil and
black soot. With my lack of expertise fast becoming as evident as the scuttled
carcass I was staring at, I politely asked the gentleman to get in behind the
wheel and turn the ignition key. Seething black smoke from the exhaust, it
presently dawned on me that there might just be a good chance that the problem
was simply a flooded carburetor. Well,
just maybe, I thought.
After what seemed like a long
wait we tried starting the car again, only to suffer the same result. By now
the morning was on the wane and with 150 kilometres of hilly terrain ahead of
me I started to break into a sweat. The thought of getting in late, probably
sometime after eight, was not the recipe for a relaxing day’s ride,
particularly when my first turn of the crank was still a while away.
Moments
later, still saddled with the terrible thought that I might just see a
broken-down SEAT along the road, I finally began my own journey along the A-343
towards the once-Moorish stronghold of Loja. The next 60 kilometres of hard
riding thankfully told me I hadn’t.
Books by Mark Krieger:
‘High Spain Drifter’ is available on Amazon , Barnes and Noble, Booktopia and other online bookstores.
‘Lycra, Lattes and the Long Way Round’ is available on Amazon, Book Depository, Barnes and Noble, Kobo Books
Both books are also available at local bookshops on the Mornington Peninsula: @ Rosebud Bookbarn and @ La Brocante
Books by Mark Krieger:
‘High Spain Drifter’ is available on Amazon , Barnes and Noble, Booktopia and other online bookstores.
‘Lycra, Lattes and the Long Way Round’ is available on Amazon, Book Depository, Barnes and Noble, Kobo Books
Both books are also available at local bookshops on the Mornington Peninsula: @ Rosebud Bookbarn and @ La Brocante
“I still must abide by the rules of
the road, of biking, of gravity. But I am mentally far away from civilization.”
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