New Season Starting

Phew. That was quite a whirlwind. The last time I wrote here was back in 2019. Since then I’ve moved more times than a Mongolian herdsman. It prompted me to take stock of the number of times I’ve moved house. At present it sits at about 30 different apartments and houses. From small apartments in Asia, so tiny you needed to open the window to brush your teeth, to large houses in Montenegro with gardens so big you needed google maps to find your way home.

I’m in Gran Canaria now and, if all goes well, I will be staying put. I am so confident that I have thrown away all the moving boxes. A first for me.

The riding, trail running and swimming is superb. First class. With a variety of terrain, from rocky plains, to seductive single track that winds beside beautiful empty stretches of coast, past secluded bays and inlets, to pine forests and laurel trees, high up above the glimmering Atlantic ocean.

I’ll be writing again, adding in some information here for anyone that is interested. I may share some links to route maps if there is an appetite for that sort of thing.

Let’s see what Gran Canaria has to offer. From what I’ve seen so far it looks like a paradise for cycling, trail running, hiking and enjoying the ocean.

Stay tuned for my next blog entry.

Alella Vineyard Bike Ride

Alella vineyard ride with a bit of history.

My bike ride on Monday took me past picturesque vineyards, tucked into the hillsides overlooking the sparkling blue waters of the Mediterranean.  All in all it was a very pleasant ride.  The sun was shining, the smell of pine trees wafted in the air and the cicadas were in full song.  I was intrigued about the vineyards and decided to do some research.

A quick look at Google Maps revealed the Alella D.O. – which stands for ‘Denominacion de Origen’ this covers all wines produced in the ‘Maresme’ county in the province of Barcelona, Catalunya.

I was curious and decided to investigate further.

Here is what I found out.

There are far fewer vineyards now compared to when the area was established as a ‘D.O.’ back in 1956.  Roughly 66% has surrendered to urban encroachment despite an extension to the official territory covered by the D.O. in 1989.  I was not entirely surprised to read this given the growth there has been in the region, with new plots appearing all the time and new houses springing up where there had previously been greenery.  A shame.  Is it progress? 

Wine production in this part of Spain has been around for a long, long time.  Way back in the good ol’ days, the Kings of Aragon were puckering their lips to a glass of Alella’s finest, it was served up throughout the Middle Ages, much to the joy of the locals. 

I discovered that it goes even further back than the Kings of Aragon.  It goes all the way back to the Roman period when a chap called Pliny the Elder (sounds like an experienced wine drinker to me) wrote about the wines that were produced in the area.  Back then he referred to them as ‘vins laietans’.

I was thinking about wine (and food) after my bike ride.  I looked down at my bike shorts, they were covered in salt, as were my arms.  It had been a hot day.  The heat had been reflecting off the sticky black tarmac and my feet were baking.  It was time for a nice cold shower.

After that, I would spend some time researching new recipes, something that would pair well with a crisp white wine from Alella.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  In the meantime, I leave you with a photo of one of the vineyards.

The Jacaranda

“My witness is the empty sky.” 

― Jack Kerouac

I turned those words over as I enjoyed the shade of a Jacaranda tree.  I stood on a carpet of yellow flowers dropped by the tree and took in the heavy scent.  There was not a cloud in the sky, it was a wide expanse of blue.  My witness.

It has been a long time since I posted anything on this blog.  I could blame a lack of time however that wouldn’t be accurate.  It has been a matter of priorities and those have shifted a little.  I will, therefore, start to write again.

May the empty sky be my witness.

  • Eduardo A dos Remedios

Bacon Ride

“Hope is a good breakfast but a bad supper” – Francis Bacon

I was hopeful as I set off on my bike.  The air tasted sweet, like flower petals soaked in Baklava. There was a freshness to the day, that hour where the night relinquishes its grip before the heat of the day takes over, like a cold bottle of water left out of the fridge – drink it minutes before it looses that special coolness, when it becomes dulled by the heat, well on its way to being room temperature.

I was pedalling easily.  It felt like there was no chain on my bike.

The gravel road beneath my tires sound liked bacon frying.  Perhaps I should have had more for breakfast I thought as I looked into the distance across the tall grass.  Insects were having breakfast in the field next to me.  Small blue flowers sat atop hardy looking weeds, among them shorter weeds bore bright yellow flowers, competing for attention to the early morning diners.

I was heading west towards the town of Danilovgrad, (Montenegro).  A small collection of single story buildings built up around the river Zeta that flows gently through town, a constant trickle of cool through a town that can’t escape the doom of gradual decline.  It’s not a bad town, don’t get me wrong.  It’s just not a great town.  In the same way that whilst the blue weeds, or indeed the yellow weeds look pretty, you’d never buy a bunch if they were on sale.

I pedalled on listening to the click of something on my bike.  A pedal bearing perhaps? I unclipped one foot and pedalled with the other.  The click stopped.  I clipped back in and then did the same with my other foot. The click remained.  Definitely a pedal bearing then.  I thought about Malta.  I would be there in just over a week.

Different landscape.  Different roads.  More gravel tracks.  More bacon sounds.

I am feeling hopeful. I am also rather hungry.  Bacon perhaps?

Time for lunch.

 

 

 

The re-birth of the blog

It has been so long since I posted a new entry I was tempted to start afresh, create a new blog and delete this one.  I decided against it.  After all, I have been told it makes for a good read.

Work has taken me to Malta, then off to Gibraltar (with plenty of side trips into Spain) and on to Montenegro.  With all that travelling my cycling (and blogging) suffered.

However since January of 2017 I have been clipped in and riding again.  It has taken a while but my creative juices are now flowing freely and I have decided to start again, sharing my experiences, injecting a bit of humour when required and posting a few photos along they way.

Consider this short post to be the ‘system re-set’ point for a new series.

It will start in Montenegro as that is where I am right now.

For the cyclist out there, I am riding a 2016 Canyon Exceed mountain bike and I am having fun exploring the routes on the outskirts of the capital, Podgorica.

I have been snapping quite a few pics of the gorgeous landscapes and will include some of these on my blog.  In short, I hope you will enjoy my posts and do stay tuned for the re-birth of my blog 🙂

I shall leave you with a taster of the countryside here in Montenegro.  It is truly breathtaking.

 

Exploring Malta

Photo taken on the SE coast.

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Day 112

Another beautiful day another lovely ride.

Late evening, long winter shadows and a fast smooth road. Perfect 🙂

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Day 111

A few photos for you all.

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Day 110

I decided to stop and see if my brakes were rubbing.  They were not.  This of course was something I already knew and yet, it would have been fantastic had it been the case, for my legs were dead and I was about an hour from home on what was my first long cycle ride for quite some time.

Usually, when choosing a route for a ‘day one’ ride, I tend to make up a new one.  I do this for a couple of reasons.  First of all it means I do not fall into the trap of trying to ride a familiar route at a pace that I remember from days in the past where I was much fitter – for that makes me feel shit.  To avoid this,  I choose a new route. This is a cunning plan. It serves to (a) ensure it is a memorable return to the bike, buoyed by enthusiasm and a desire to explore and (b) that the next time I ride the route, I will be happily moving along at a faster, fitter rate, well if all goes to plan that is.

My plan was a proven one and was sound.  I had however managed to ruin my plan in several ways.  All of which, could easily be described as ‘rookie’ mistakes.  I shall list them below.

  1. riding without money.
  2. riding without sufficient food.
  3. riding without sufficient liquid.
  4. not eating enough for dinner the previous night
  5. not eating enough for breakfast.
  6. not charging my Garmin GPS unit
  7. not checking the map before leaving
  8. not bringing a map
  9. deciding that ¾ bib shorts would be warm enough
  10. not reading the weather forecast.

So there I was, roughly one hour from home and this list was running though my head.  I decided there was only one solution.

Ignore it.

In order to take my mind of the my rapidly numbing feet, my hunger, my thirst and my lack of knowledge of the route, I decided to employ a tactic used to calm myself when I am freediving.

It works like this. It is all about visualization.

Imagine you are trying to hold your breath, sitting on the sofa at home. (do not do it on the metro because people will think you are a freak).

Try it now.  Hold your breath and look at your watch.

At around forty five seconds or so, you’ll start to twitch a bit.  You will be willing the seconds to move faster. If you make it past a minute, as the seconds move towards ninety seconds, you will start to stress.

Now try it this way.

Have a rest after the first test.

Now this time when you hold your breath, close your eyes. Do not look at the watch.

Imagine the house you lived in as a kid.  Try to visualize the layout. Each room. The kitchen. Your bedroom.  The little cupboard with the stickers on it. The bed with the Road Runner cartoon pattern. Your favourite toys. Whatever.

Now think about your high school teacher.  The one you had a crush on.

By this time a minute will easily have passed, without stress.  It works.

Whilst I was thinking about my art teacher and her lovely blue eyes I had missed the turn off for Barcelona and was now happily moving farther and farther away from home.  By the time I had realized my mistake, heading back, into what was now a headwind was not an option.  It meant that as a penalty for thinking about Miss Booth, I now had to climb up over the pass that separated the Valley Orientals, from El Maresme. This was a serious downer.

I began the climb.

It is not a hard climb.  But when you have zero energy it might as well have been Everest. I began to think about food. If only I had some money.

Eureka ! I remembered that I had placed an ‘emergency’ 20 euro note into my saddle bag.  Joy of joys. I was beaming.

I stopped at a  petrol station and filled up.  I started with a Coke.  Some little cakes caught my eye and then an Aquarius (think Gatorade). I finished off with some water for my bottle. Clutching my purchases to my chest I made my way to the counter.  Stopping to stare at a cabinet selling what looked like Christmas themed survival knives (WTF?) and car seat covers with patterns of football teams on them.  Strange.

I was served by an interesting looking guy that seemed to have several hair styles at once upon his head.  He was nodding to a rhythm that only he could hear.  He did not look up from the cash register. He had a tattoo on his neck that looked like a dead bird. I wondered if he had some of the Christmas themed survival knives at home.

“What number” he asked.

I looked at him and said nothing.

After a little while he looked at me and then gazed out at the forecourt. It was empty.

I watched as the realization that I was a cyclist dawned upon him.

I handed over my emergency money and left. Leaving him to listen to the music in his head.

Later that evening, whilst soaking in a hot bath I thought about my ride. It was painful but I enjoyed it.  I decided to plan my next route and made a mental note to avoid my rookie mistakes.

My next ride would take me onto the roads that Juan Antonia Flecha trains on.  I wondered if he ever make rookie mistakes like mine.

Probably not.  But you never know.

Still you do have to get lost if you want to find yourself right?

 

 

Day 109

It says Day 109 however for me, today is day 1. The first day in my trip. A trip that involves a focuses on fitness, on being healthy and in leaving behind the bad habits I have picked up over the past year or so.

Watch this space..

I’m excited and I am looking forward to bringing you some interesting articles, photos and videos.

🙂

Eduardo