Spain #10

Posted April 27th 2019

The days at Sanne and Peter are great, I have my own room and bathroom and furthermore I can just take what I need, the fridge is filled and there is even beer for me. On Wednesday, Tine came to Sanne’s practice for a treatment and after a chat, of course, a photo.

“Do you like to go to Kundalini Yoga?” Sanne asks. “Ehmmm, uhhhhh …… do I like that?”, I ask. Ah, go crazy … I’m coming. I do not know and rejecting without knowledge is always so easy. I spend the day reading on and at 8 o’clock we have ‘the lesson’. Blanket, shorts and hop … Jon and Yoga! I do not think it’s okay with me … I think Angelique is a friend of Sanne and is setting up her class in La Marina. “Hi Jon!”, Angelica calls when we step inside her house. Fun eyes and a happy smile … ..! I can. 5 women, 1 teacher and ehmmm 1 Jon. Angelique sees me looking, laughing and calling, “You have the evening of your life, friend! First time, hey Jon? “” Jup, roughly exactly yes, “I answer. First a meditation with abdominal breathing, I know that. At home I also do regular, go back to my breathing and can find peace. But yes, it does not stop there. Standing up, raising knees, waving arms, bending, stretching, turning ……. Fortunately, I am in a company that is aware that this all looks pretty well for an outsider. Ah, I had said I would join, so I join. With full conviction, but with the knowledge that for many things is a first time, but always a last time. When we lie down under a blanket at the end, Angelique visits everyone and puts her warm hands under the soles of the feet. Hmmmm, tie again very nice. With a big smile, which is standard on her face, I think she likes to find out how I got through this lesson. A big hug is my part, and it is the type of woman where you can have a nice evening with a nice evening at the beach with the sun setting, I imagine. But yes, she lives here and I do not … But I leave those conversations to others.

Thursday, on my way the city where I have an appointment at Black Cat Ink … .. I want a nice memory of this trip and am not afraid of being inked. Greg, a nice unadulterated bloody Englishman, knows how to turn my idea into a tattoo. It tickles, but I am happy with it. He finds my journey of almost 7000 km “Awesome”, wants to see my bike and and askes for a photo together. At Instagram he places the photos and wishes me a nice trip back home. I drive back home and we eat a 3-course meal. Iris is the daughter of my hostess and lord and I wanted to see her again. 8 o’clock, Alicante, at the McDonalds we have half an hour to change. Fun, cozy and of course she wants to take a picture of my bike for her friend who also drives motorbikes. “Climb on it, I’ll take the picture!” Now you have to know that Iris is just 3 peat high and can easily walk underneath my outstretched arm, but it works. Skilfully she taps into the saddle. Funny picture, big engine with a little lady on his back. She has to leave, her work calls. I drive back home. The evening is not over yet, we watch TV and at 12 o’clock it is done and dusted. I dive in, tie things on the bike tomorrow and get back on track. The journey continues, although it is a cunt that this trip is now heading home.

Friday, it is Friday … I have to say goodbye to Peet and Sanne. I’m going … I’m …. Oh well, you know that. You start a trip and that always comes to an end. Although I can enjoy a week of bends, mountains, camping sites, rain and sun. Yet…..

10 hours I drive out the gate and leave a dust cloud behind as I walk on the path with a nice walk on the commute. At the end of the roundabout, at the roundabout, a lady is happily waving to me. She probably also picked up my story on Facebook and would like to wave me out … oh, this lady does other things along the way.

The country is flat, very flat. The mountains are there, but I do not see them. It is hazy, although the sun does its best. My navigation is creative, I like to send me about an industrial park. Pffff, all very exciting.

But the mountains, I get them more and more in sight, I come closer, I smell them almost. But damn, every time I drive away from it anyway. Hello, I do not want that …… I want to climb, bend, view …… that! But I have to be patient. Half 1, the stomach is short. I stop at a bench and pull my freshly cut sandwiches out of the tank bag. Water and a coat. It is warm, very warm. I look to the right, beautiful blue sky with white clouds, I look to the left and I see …… .. Dark clouds! Shit, I have to think that way. Hmmmmm, fine …… Roll up and on. We’ll see. Less than 5 minutes later the sky blinks and thunders. I suspect this shit. But luckily it stays dry. Still…..

I get what I want, curves … climbing … and beautiful landscapes. I stop for some pictures and give a dry tree some life-saving moisture. I’m not the craziest one.

The landscape is beautiful, I enjoy it again. It was nice in La Marina, but I feel at home in the saddle again. This afternoon setting up a tent, cooking and writing a report. I’m just looking forward to it. I make a long bend to the right and I was able to enter a valley where fields full of young plants are planted. Neatly in line, almost at the creepy. I drink some water and continue. Pats …… Drop in my helmet on my lip. And another one … .. Shit, still rain! But how wonderful is it when after 2 minutes it stops just as fast as it started. Good, if it stays here I think it’s best. The landscape, did I mention that it is beautiful?

The curves come and go, from short staccato to long sweeping. I drive through it nicely. Pfffff, what will this detoxify when I get home?

The villages, from small to very small, follow. I sometimes drive right through it, just passing through the streets. Interior, in optima forma. Very cool! I see an old distribution center where the doors literally hang from the rebates. “Hmmmm, is Peeters here too?”, I wonder.

And then I piss around in my pantyhose with laughter again. My navigation does everything to make me happy, usually by making stupid remarks.

“Turn right at the roundabout and take the centimeter 3217!” Huh? What? How?

It is the CM-3217, but Garmin clearly knows his measurements. Hilarious!

Boom! Rain … within 2 seconds with baking from heaven. I drive the misery directly into that CM-31217 ……. And this is not a 2-minute mood. It keeps coming. The drops are so big that I feel them fall on my arm through my suit. Teething back, the road feels smooth. A little bit of gas and I already felt a step behind my band. I want to come home very early, if necessary a few hours later. I drive into a valley, see a straight road and at the end of that long road the sun shines behind the mountains. Ah, there we have to be. Gas on and hoppa …… I meanwhile wonder how many fines I will get at home. They have strange speeds here. Through a village 30, on a 3 lane between villages or cities 50 and inland where you can not go harder of 40 you can 90 …… Hmmmmmmm! I am calculating a few euros for corrective summations. Part of the game.

But Spain plays false, behind the mountains where the sun shone is still a mountain. The sun shines behind the mountain. 2 mountains later it is dry and I drive through a wading of a thick 20 cm gamble. In itself not bad, but not with 60km / h … .. I’m afraid, just in time speed out and with 20 through it. My boots? Wet! Ah, they can handle it. Goretex rules! Bliep, orange light on dashboard, tank almost empty, still 72 km to go. Hmmmmm, I’m in no man’s land … No pump in the neighborhood. Google on and within no time I find a pump. 10 km around and on my navigation I see lines that make me happy. But with full tank like! New via-point chosen and soon on the road again for the last part of the day. The pump is coming into view, beautiful …. At least, would be nice! It is clear that the sign that can not be smoked here has lost its function. The spiderweb flourishes and the pump has clearly been out of use for a while. Shit, so continue driving. Which way? Camping is on the left, detours are time wasted. But no choice, the site is still 65 km. I do not save without refueling. 12 km by … pump! I am saved. Thing full of throwing, bottle of cleaner and Big Red runs again like a sun later. As a gift I get a nice climb and a beautiful view of the roofs of a village. Nice fun fun. The picture really appeals to me, I can enjoy it here. The campsite, another 25 km … .. Along the side are concrete poles that served as road markings. Served, because they are no longer readable. How long will they be here? How many cars have they already seen? Questions that I will never get answers to. Another 10 km, a quarter to 5, the village Peñascosa looms, another 2 kilometers … .. I drive wrong and have to turn in the middle of the square. Full pack, little space and a few spectators … ..It goes well and soon I drive to the campsite. There is room for one night, € 13 without electricity and with a babbling brook.

“Anywhere you like”, says the lady. I am looking for a place, put up my tent and soon she comes running. “Parking-place Señor”, she calls. “Anywhere I like!”, is my answer.

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