20 years ago today – Day 23

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March 26 – Huelva to Sevilla, 1052 km

Nick drops early to wish us well. He is hitch-hiking to Sevilla and may be there before us. We promise to meet on the steps of the cathedral at 6pm. Then it is off to the bike shop. Mike gets his freewheel replaced and I have them work on my derailleur.


The repairs are ready by 11 and I seem to have overcome a bout of diarrhea for the time being. We have a long ride ahead, just over a 100 km to Sevilla. Mike is pleased with his new freewheel, which has a larger granny gear for easier hill climbing. I’m still having problems with my front derailleur changing to my granny gear, until I am able to fix it by bending it slightly. I adjust my seat higher too, while I’m at it. I suspect that has been he cause of my knee problems, because it doesn’t bother me for the rest of the day.

The route is quite direct as the valley leads east and inland to Sevilla. The road has no shoulder and is heavy with truck traffic in spite of an expressway that runs parallel. At 16 km, at San Juan del Puerto, we’ve had enough and opt for a side road runs a bit further south. It is flat at first, but then leads us up a long hill and starts to wind all over the place. There are a few views over the hazy valley below, but in the end we just lose time and speed and end up returning north. Once we reach the highway we make good time. The road climbs a hill to a plateau and stays there until we drop into Sevilla.

We arrive at five. There is time to walk around. The broad avenues and stately buildings make this the most beautiful city we have been in yet. The streets near the cathedral are all closed for yet another Easter Holy Week procession, a very long one this time, and there is no way to meet Nick at our agreed-upon location.

We rendezvous successfully with Manuel Bordallo though, our Servas host. We meet him with his girlfriend Toni at the Torre del Oro, a Moorish fortress that serves as a landmark along the Guadalquivir River. We watch the Semana Santa processions for a while before leaving.
Manuel is a teacher, very casually dressed. He’s in his 40s, and has a pleasant, open face, but he speaks very little English. I depend totally on Mike to communicate for the both of us.

Manuel leads us back to his home in a suburb to the west of the river, Manuel driving and Mike and I cycling. I am tired from our 100 km ride and it is a royal pain to be climbing up hills again, this time into the sunset and against a headwind. Mike has to wait for me more than once. Eventually we get there and Manuel leaves us there to wash up. His place is cluttered and eclectic. He has gutted his TV and now uses it as an aquarium. He says he’ll be back by 9 but isn’t back before 11. I read and write postcards and go to bed.

PHOTO 1: San Juan del Puerto
PHOTO 2: Torre del Oro
PHOTO 3: Semana Santa procession
PHOTO 4: Semana Santa procession
PHOTO 5: Semana Santa procession