April 12, 2014

Much to our relief the morning feels much fresher than the last couple of days. We check our route out of the city with the hotel receptionist, which proves a good move as we find the road we want straight away. It is often very difficult to find the small back roads out of cities as they are never sign-posted. We know we are on the right route as we pass some urban art peacocks on a traffic island, constructed out of old cement lorry barrels and road signs, which we remember from last time.

The legs and lungs are feeling good and we’re really flying along even though the road goes up and down, over and over again. The climbs are relatively easy because they are short, until we reach a part where the road is unmade, then I have to get off and push because my back wheel just skids on the gravel. Fortunately, the steep part is short as the gravel road continues for about 5 kilometres or so and I wouldn’t have wanted to push the bike that far. The temperature is perfect, warm and sunny with a slight breeze. Our aim is to reach Arquillos, a village about 90 kms from Jaén.

The ride goes smoothly with the exception of finding our way through Linares, a fairly large city. Again we are looking for a very small back road and we have to navigate using our compass from one side of the city to the other. The frustrating thing is that having arrived on the other side of Linares, we reach a junction where our instincts tell us to turn right, but, for once, there is a sign to Arquillos and it points left in totally the opposite direction. We follow the sign but there are no more after that one and we have no idea where to go. I end up asking lots of different people the way and getting lots of different answers, so we end up doing loop after loop until we arrive back at the same junction. This time we follow our instincts and, yes, we were correct. How can a road-sign point completely in the wrong direction?

We make good time to Arquillos and look for accommodation. Last time we were here we stayed in a place which was one of the worst of the whole trip. We were charged a three star hotel rate for a tatty and grubby room with no hot water which would not have even merited one star. Unfortunately, we find that this is the only place to stay in the village. I go in and ask the price of a room just to see if anything has changed – it hasn’t, so I say no thank you and we carry on. The next village, Navas de San Juan, is 11 kilometres away, but all uphill so it makes it a bit of a slow haul. On route, eagle-eyed Ken spots a small handbag lying on the grass verge at the side of the road miles from anywhere. When we look inside it has someone’s mobile phone, identity card, driving licence, along with loads of other stuff. We stuff it in the panniers to hand in to the police.

Navas de San Juan turns out to be an accommodation free zone, but a man in a bar assures us that the next town, 13 kilometres along the road, has a hotel. We are starting to get a bit worried now. It is 8pm and normally it would be light until 9pm, however, the skies have suddenly turned a strange dark sort of purple colour and strong gusts of wind are swirling around. We have already covered more than 100 kilometres, we have nowhere to stay and it looks like we’re going to get struck by lightning. Rejecting the room in Arquillos was, perhaps, a bad idea. Still, we have no choice now so we pedal on as fast as our little legs will go. We avoid the storm (only just), arrive in Santisteban, find the hotel, which turns out to be a lovely old sort of manor house with suits of armour in the lobby, check-in and book ourselves in for dinner. That was a near thing – now for a well-earned rest. At 4.15am the mobile in the handbag we picked up on the roadside starts to play a tune. We had totally forgotten about it and it takes us ages to work out what it is before we finally silence the thing. I have to read a book for an hour or so to get back to sleep and then at 7am off it goes again. The first thing we’re doing today is finding the local police office and handing it in.