20 years ago today – Day 48

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Saturday, April 20 – Mazarron to Murcia, 2436 km

Mike always says that there is little if any breeze late at night or early in the morning. Who knows where he gets these ideas but last night the wind was shaking the door so hard we had to lock it to keep it closed. He also says he never wakes up later than I do, but I was up and ready long before him.

Still, we get an early start and the wind has quieted to a gentle breeze. Today, as in the past three days, I am leading. My energy and strength has fully recovered and it feels good that he doesn’t have to wait for me as he did through half of Andalusia.

Murcia, the capital of this province, is inland on a fertile, flat huerta (irrigated vegetable farmland). Our road passes through Mazarron, climbing gently to just over 200m as it skirts the outer edge of a small sierra that follows the coast between Mazarron and Cartagena to the east, known as La Muela. It reaches that height at the 25 km mark, while we are warmed up and still fairly rested.


After that, our tour is over lightly undulating landscapes. At the 40 km mark, it is either flat or dropping gently as we cross into the valley of the Rio Sangonera. On the south side of the valley, we pass three more small mountain ranges - Spain is sprinkled with many tiny ranges – but there are no other climbs today. We pause for lunch at 12:30, 5 km from Murcia.

Definitely this is an easy day with only 68 km behind us, but we wanted to spend half a day here to see the sites. Murcia is sizable too, just over half a million. Mike has a map of the city he picked up in Aguilas but we head for the tourist office so I can have my own map. We find the office in a colourful, stately public building, but being a Saturday it is closed. Why would there be tourists on a weekend?

Mike’s map only shows large corporate hotels so it takes quite a bit of looking to find a pension. We find one with a large room for 3300 pesados, a bit more than we would like to spend. The owner gladly puts our bicycles in a room where she stores her own. Neither she or her husband speak English, but they speak perfect French. I speak a little and Mike’s French is fluent, much better than his Spanish.

While Mike showers I make a rough copy of his map for my own use, carefully noting the streets I want to go. I stretch out on the bed while he dresses, pretending to be tired. As soon as he leaves on his own to explore the town, I set out to find the Nordic Sauna listed in the Spartacus Guide. It’s ironic that I feel the need to hide my gayness from my gay cycling partner, but he is too anal to share many things with. He is opposed to me taking me shirt off, to me riding without a helmet when there is no traffic or singing to myself. I have no doubt that he would find my trips to a gay sauna unacceptable.

I go to the sauna for the three S’s – shower, shave and sex. Well, as the song goes, two out of three’s not bad. The place is full of leering, groping trolls – no beauties at all. Just bad luck I guess. I do meet a deaf fellow from Cartagena there, but the sign language he uses is different from the sign I know so it is hard to understand him.

I leave and tour around the downtown before returning to the pension. In the evening, Mike and I eat at a Chinese restaurant. The service is good, the host and hostess are friendly but the food is mediocre. It cost too much too, and I am now well over budget. But I don’t want to avoid eating out every night and never going to saunas and clubs. It is my vacation so I decide not to worry too much about it for now. After all, we have lined up hosts in Alicante, Valencia, Barcelona and several places throughout France using Servas and our ad in Gai Pied.


PHOTO 1: statue in Mazarron
PHOTO 2: Ramonete hills
PHOTO 3: olive grove
PHOTO 4: orchard in blossom
PHOTO 5: City Hall where tourist office is
PHOTO 6: downtown Murcia
PHOTO 7: Murcia Cathedral
PHOTO 8: Playa Ayuntamiento