Southern Spain proved challenging: too nice weather and not so nice roads, but incredibly nice people...

After sucessfully obtaining my missing medication thanks to Faitma, a friend of Christine and an incredibly patient and ingenious medical clerk, who managed to provide me with the required national health security number which allows the pharmacy to find me and my prescription in their computer (no more paper prescriptions) we set off for the last 200 km in Spain on Tuesday, hoping to reach Tarifa and the ferry on Friday...

The first day went well, except for several smaller roads that proved non existant or interuppted by irrigation channels but we made it to Las Cabezas de San Juan, only to find that the two hotels that actually exist (a third one appeared only on google) were full, but 5 miles further we then had an entire hotel all to ourselves.

On Wednesday we worked our way uphill to Arcos de la Frontera and after first having decided not to go into town, when we actually saw it we changed our mind, and were rewarded with truely breathtaking views and cafe in a beautiful old courtyard. Last shopping at Carrefour - and off we were to Medina Sidonia. Unlike the Spanish national roads around the caminos, this road was not only very narrow but a lot of cars were actually using it. The feeling on the bike was strange, we seemed to be swaying a lot. I kept asking Andreas if he did not note anything different, but he insisted all was fine. The next uphill stretch we reached I insisted on walking, (as I often do uphill which makes the bike easier to stear and I use a different set of muscles which helps me a lot). But this time I definitively felt unsafe on the bike.

When I got off, the bike got out of balance and Andreas ended up under the bike, which a friendly car driver inmediately helped me to pick up and helped Andreas up. I suggested he sit down and take a rest and some water, he then lay down on the curb of the road (luckely a bit broader at that part) and dozed off. He never lost conscience and whenever anyone spoke to him, he insited all was fine and we should continue but to everyone else that was clearly not an option. In the meantime the friendly owner of a nearby road venta (a sort of vending post with attached restaurant, that sell anything from animal food and other rural supplies to souveniers) had joined us, he called one of his employees, a doctor, who checked vital signals and found everything ok except Andreas was obviously not ok, so he called an ambulance. Again all checks fine, but Andreas still dozy and not in any state to continue. They decided to take him to the hospital in Jerez (the town where sherry comes from). The shoked expression on my face and my earnest claim I would never make it there by myself convinced them to make an exception and take me with them in the ambulance. The friendly venta crew took our luggage back to their place, I drove the bike there and off we went to Jerez. An interesting experience to sit next to the driver of an ambulance....

To make the rest of the story short: four hours and a lot of medical exams later, in which time Andreas showed some typical signs of sun stroke and slept through most of it, we could both leave the hospital and spend the night in a wonderful hotel (San Andres - to be on the safe side should). We used the next morning to look at Jerez and worked ourselves back to our bike by bus and taxi. After having lunch at the venta, the very least we could do to acknowledge all their help we continued on to Medina Sidonia, the city we originally wanted to reach the previous day.

A telltale noise informed us we broke a spoke .... causing a bit of a hazzle and a couple days delay with Andreas flying back to Brussels.

Once back and the bike reassembled, on the following Tuesday, we drove to Tarifa, on the way the freewheel started to jump (meaning my chain does not always transmit to the main chain - this eventually leads to a state where the front person can no longer contribute).  This we anticipated to happen at some point and carry teh spare piece with us, but of course not all necessary tools, as this involves dismantling the treadle. With the help of two bike shops and a car mechanic Andreas managed to change the piece in time for us to catch the five o'çlock ferry to Tanger. We informed Christine and Tobias only when we had finally boarded, for fear we would have to seak shelter with them again....