2 Mar 2013

Ronda and a 'not a road'.



Ronda is all it's cracked up to be. Most impressive. Look it up on the www. However; it was cold. Freezing at night with a wicked NE wind. The sun was out though and Tanya and I enjoyed a good explore. We saw all the touristy bits and worked our way back to Sadie via the crowded narrow streets full of all sorts of wee shops. I'm afraid they did not get much trade from me. I would have stopped for a bite to eat but a cold and blustery Tuesday evening in February seems to mean closed restaurants around all the touristy parts. Everywhere else seemed to be bars with the usual knots of men plus their beer. I certainly did not fancy a Big Mac which of course was open.

The big 'China City' warehouse next to us at our edge of town parking spot did get some trade however. I could not resist a browse around the cavernous interior with it's shelves full of everything you need for whatever, whenever and of course stuff to buy when really you don't need a damm thing! I came out with a fold flat step. Admittedly something I've been on the look out for to enable me to reach those bits of Sadie that lie just beyond stretched fingertips atop toppy toes. It works too and folds/stores neatly away.

Ronda slowly dropped behind us as we headed down the main road toward 'Algeciras'. Main road did I say? Well; you know how I dislike main roads dont you! So when the mountain road to 'Farajan', 'Jubrique' and finally to the main road again at 'Algatocin' , presented itself invitingly, even though I had given myself a serious talking to about; "for once Steve, lets just do main roads eh?" I just sort of drifted onto it. Well before you could say 'Spanish mountain goat sh*t' there we were soaring. Flying in fact. Really it was like that. High up on ziggy zaggy roads and looking down on tiny whitewashed mountain villages clinging to hillsides way way below us.

"Wow! Am I glad we came this way Tanya. This is something else!"

Only the 'something else' turned out to be also way way below us at the bottom of the mountain where of course we eventually had to go. At first it was not too bad. A narrowing road with evidence of landslips and various bits of tarmac sliding away on the inside of some of the tighter bends. The first ford was fun and had good tarmac on both sides.

Then the tarmac disappeared. Some could occasionally be seen buried under the landslips from the steep banks of unstable ground here at the valley bottom. The road followed the river and criss crossed it in several places. We were in rough track and pothole territory which was passable and thankfully dry apart from the fords. There were vehicle tracks to follow. My surmising was as follows; 

"It's a bloody long way back, this is risky but fun,  Tanya has already figured out I'm crazy, soooo .... as long as it stays dry and the track is not completely blocked ..... What the hell lets go for it!"

The valley bottom was slow. I had to fill one large pothole in the middle of a ford with stones and on another, a wee bit of levelling with my spade was required before Sadie bumpilly sailed across.

Then, as you do, we started uphill. What can I say except never again will I doubt Sadies ability and willingness to join me in the game called ... 'lets pretend we're a 4wd Landrover and go where only 4wd Landrovers are supposed to go!' Tarmac on this section was unheard of and steep narrow and dodgy looking bends were briefly reconoitred with Sadie being then flung at them in first gear. She never failed and grunted round and through them spitting out bits of mountainside from her rear wheels to go tumbling away to the valley bottom which, very slowly was being placed way way below us again.

There was 6km of this slow heart in the mouth, not for motorhomes, stupid even to try, track through the mountains before finally, with a whoop of joy and relief we hit tarmac again. It stayed hairy till we hit 'Jubrique' where normal service was resumed. Quite boring really!!

We overnighted on a flat wide gravel track between a railway and the river further on down the main road. There was an unbelievable, almost frightening thunderstorm overnight. Tanya trembled with fear while cuddled up as close as she could get to me under the duvet. I just lay there and thanked the various Gods & Godess's for letting us get clear of the mountains before putting on this tremendous show of force. I felt sure the thunderous torrents of rain drumming on Sadies roof would also be washing numerous fresh landslips across the rough tracks we had slowly negotiated during the day.

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We arrived at 'La Linea de la Concepcion' today. Bike was unloaded, passport stuffed into pocket and Gibralter here we come. 43 years ago I was here on HMS Eagle. Nostalgia.


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