‘Flowing’ through the town is the Rio Almanzora, which
travels 90 kilometres due east from the northern slopes of the Sierra de los
Filabres to the Mediterranean coast. Yet, as I cycled over the main bridge
along the A-332 early next morning, the only thing that seemed to be moving was
me. There was not the slightest trickle of water in sight, just – of all
things! – a football pitch. It was hardly the well-manicured bed of grass you
might otherwise imagine; it was more a combination of weeds and buckled cement.
Perhaps it was someone’s attempt to utilise what had become a perennial waste of
space during the town’s hotter months. Nevertheless, it was difficult to
imagine any form of life flourishing in such a dreary depression.
An hour’s ride from Cuevas del Almanzora was Murcia’s CostaCálida (Warm Coast), a 250-kilometre stretch of coastline between the border
with Almería province and the northern fishing village of El Mojón. Though well
known for its beach resorts, particularly in the seaside towns of Águilas and
Mazarrón, the area is relatively unspoiled compared with other more congested
locations along the Mediterranean coast.
The region of Murcia also lays claim to having the largest
saltwater lake, Mar Menor (Small Sea) in Europe. Semicircular in shape and no
deeper than 7 metres, the lagoon is separated from the Mediterranean Sea by a
22-kilometre sandstrip ranging in width from 100 to 1200 metres. Inhabited
during prehistoric times and later by the Phoenicians and the Moors, the area,
which is relatively high in salinity, was used by the Romans – an enterprising
lot, they always found a use for something – to develop a valuable salt
industry. Today, Mar Menor is more a haven for tourists, who flock to the
cluster of hotels, restaurants and resorts scattered along its spit.
Despite the mounting heat, there were other cyclists out on the road, most heading in the opposite direction towards Cuevas del Almanzora. Some had fishnets covering their faces to keep out the dust and wind. For the moment, it made me appreciate Arthurs Seat back home, where you can at least breathe clean air and you are usually well protected from the wind, no matter which direction it might be blowing from.
Past being tired, and desperate for a drink, I took a short detour downhill towards a small village. A blink-and-you-miss-it sort of place, I still can’t recall passing a road sign with its name on it. But the one thing it did have was a small bar-restaurant that sold cold beer. Sem (zero alcohol) beer provided the perfect tonic for me throughout southern Portugal, and in Spain. Full of vitamins and without any alcohol to further desiccate my already dehydrated body, it was the dangling carrot at the end of each stage of a long day’s riding.
Our accommodation that evening was in the small Murcian town of Fortuna. An oasis in a desert landscape, it’s supposedly renowned for its thermal baths, which date back to Roman and Moorish times. The bubbling waters of one of its spas, La Fuente, just 3 kilometres down the road, was where I found Roz – and, it seemed, just about everyone else within driving distance – later that afternoon.
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ARTHURS SEAT, Mornington Peninusala, Australia |
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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