20 years ago today – Day 26

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Friday, March 29 – Palma del Rio to Cordoba, 1219 km

We have an early start today – 9:20am – after a breakfast at our inn. Mike waits for me while I take a quick side trip into town to photograph the church, Iglesia de la Asuncion. So we are out of Palma and approaching Cordoba, shorter day (60 km) and a more gentle headwind.

We are very low on food and money before the banks open tomorrow morning so I have saved half my bun from our continental breakfast to eat during the route. But yesterday’s hard workout and not much food for the past day is sapping my energy. Within 20 km, Mike has once again pulled ahead out of sight, but I am not worried. The road we are on leads right to Cordoba.


The route becomes hilly shortly before Almodovar, where a medieval castle crowns a steep hilltop overlooking the valley. It can be seen from quite a distance.

Mike is waiting for me at the edge of the city. We cycle into the core to check out the youth hostel first. It is full. There may be rooms coming available after 4 but we don’t want to chance it. I am very tired. I ask him if he would mind finding a room and then coming to get me, as I know I will only hold him up, and he agrees. He finds a room reasonably priced for a city at 2200. When we get there we find that our bikes are not allowed, so we go back to looking. This time I go with him.

We find a place for the same price only three minutes walk from the Mesquita, the great Moorish mosque in the centre of the city. We wash up and take our usual walk to orient ourselves to the city. We find the streets where two gay bars are listed in Spartacus, but of course they are not there. There are two straight bars in their place, crowded with young people. I find another one that is listed, but it’s padlocked on a Friday night. Not much chance of finding it open tomorrow.

We return to our pension and share dinner in our room – sardines in Piri Piri sauce (a leftover from Portugal), crackers and some cheese. Later, on my own, buy an ice cream and a beer with the last of my money. I watch Christ and two more Virgins drift by through the narrow streets. I have come to see them as the evil that is keeping the banks closed and me hungering for food, but I forgive them as I only have until tomorrow morning before the banks open. I will be the first in line. After the procession of misery has moved on, I witness a bar fight outside a club across the street from the Café Siena. Some poor guy had a bottle broken over his head.

PHOTO 1: Almodovar Castle
PHOTO 2: billboard for Black Bull Sherry
PHOTO 3: gate entering Cordoba
PHOTO 4: street in old part of Cordoba
PHOTO 5: doorway in Cordoba
PHOTO 6: Roman mausoleum