Consuerga to Almagro - 67 miles

Last night as I stood among the windmills high above La Mancha I looked out upon a chequered landscape of green and reddish brown. It was obvious that the earth that had caused me so much trouble yesterday was the norm in the area. Given the frustrations it caused it seemed sensible that today I should stick to roads.

Lookalikes…?

My route re-planned, I criss-crossed my way across La Mancha, mostly on long, straight and empty roads, poorly maintained and seemingly from days gone by. In the distance lay low-lying hills but I cycled on flatter ground through a landscape that varied between neat lines of vines, fields of green cereals and rows of olive trees in fields of sun bleached stones. All the while the verges were red and white with poppies and daisies, sometimes pinpricking their colour into the various crops in the surrounding fields. Despite my planning, at one stage the route took me up a mud track but today it was dry and there was no repetition of yesterday as I cycled through miles of green and yellowing cereals dotted with the small oak trees of these parts. All in all it made for a beautiful ride.

Another reason for the use of roads is that while cleaning my bike yesterday I noticed some excessive play in the pedals, a sure sign that the bearing through the frame is worn and needs replacing. Yesterday evening I was weighing up my options on what to do. There were bike shops in Ciudad Real and I reasoned that I could make it there, but whether they did repairs or not was not clear. If not, it was likely a good point for a short train ride to Madrid where a repair was surely to be found before then returning back to Ciudad Real and the route. One thing was for sure, I needed to get the bearing replaced and in the meantime needed to treat my bike with kid gloves.

With an accommodating route and a careful pace I reached Ciudad Real in the early afternoon. It is another place on the 'As I Walked Out…' preface map that does not get mentioned in the book. I assumed my route had taken me to the city centre but looking about I was surrounded by modern flats, food outlets and shops. It felt as if I were in the suburbs but my map confirmed I was in the heart of the city and cycling around I saw mostly more of the same. I did find the city hall on a modern plaza and I came across a couple of old churches but in general it seemed that the old Ciudad Real had been replaced by accommodation and retail and then a few token historical buildings had been randomly dropped in for effect. To me it seemed a soulless place.

Ciudad Real City Hall

Ciudad Real

Ciudad Real

Ciudad Real

I found a cycle shop near the city hall and the owner said he might be able to fix my bike by the morning, wouldn’t take it off me until five o’clock and kept pointedly telling me he wouldn’t take it with any of the bags or equipment on. With over three hours to wait I retired to a bar to consider my options. 

In truth my decision making was coloured by the attitude of that shop owner, so different to the people who had helped me last year when I had problems in Eastern Europe. But the fact that the bike had stood up well throughout the morning, that the cheapest place I could find to stay in that soulless town was one hundred and fifty pounds and that I had found a shop in Valdepeñas that was specifically a bike repair shop all played into the equation. There was also a cheap hotel on the route to Valdepeñas, about two hours into a five hour journey. I decided to risk it.

The route from Ciudad Real was a repeat of the morning on an ancient and bone shaking road and with the addition of the occasional field blanketed red with poppies. When I stopped at Almagro to go online and book the room I had found earlier (I had not wanted to tempt providence earlier where my bike's durability was concerned) it had gone. In cycling around this small town looking for alternatives - by using the old fashioned approach of checking with locals and asking at hotels - I discovered that there is a dearth of accommodation in the area because of a wine festival today in Ciudad Real. Nevertheless I struck lucky (to a point) and found a cancellation, the last room in the establishment: cheaper than the offering in Ciudad Real but rather more expensive than my lost booking. But for my money I am in a luxurious old hotel with a beautiful central court (glass covered of course) and a swimming pool. Oh, and did I mention that the cancellation was a suite? So I am now sitting in my private lounge enjoying a glass of wine and wondering what time to leave in the morning in order that I might make the most of this luxury while hoping that tomorrow's twenty-nine miles to Valdepeñas goes as smoothly as today. 

Luxury…!