Pina Colada for the cold
Trip Start Apr 17, 2006
44Trip End Jun 14, 2006
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Still, I survived, and in the morning took some advice on where I could stock up on some essential supplies, since La Tranca had been such a let down. (I should note that I have nothing aginst three house villages per se - its the impertinence I object to. On a 1:2000000 map? have some respect!). The advice came that the next town, 20km down the road, would come up trumps.
And it did - the "shop" was some lady´s home, and she basically flogged me a load of stuff that she´d got from the supermarket in the city, with a healthy mark up ("transport cost"), but I´m not complaining for a second, she had everything I needed (including petrol for my stove! astonishing!), and made me a delicious sandwich. Her young daughter was fasinated by this strange bearded foriegner who had happened to trip upon her rural existence, and was interrogating me mercilessly. Daughter: "do you know Spain?" Bearded stranger (that´s me, fans): "yes, I´ve been to Spain three times, Spain´s beautiful." Daughter: "how about Italy? Do you know Italy?" Me: "I´ve been to Italy once." Daughter: "did you meet the Pope?". Priceless.
The lady sent me away with a bottle of Pina Colada for the cold and the warning that the unpaved road I was about to embark upon was "very strong". Having no idea what constitued a strong road, I decided the only way to find out was to try it.
The main obstacle turned out to be - you guessed it - cows. What cycle tour is complete without its cow story? Sometimes they´d run, and seeing how fast they could go I sent thanks that they were running away from me and not towards me
I also decided today to give my speedometer a second chance, and then suddenly had a flash of inspiration as to why it had been malfunctioning - it was obvious - the electromagnetic automatic precision motion sensor was in too close proximity to the wheel hub flange body assembly! A quick bit of screwdriving would soon fix that. And lo and behold, the Hellcat sprang back into accurate life like the feline diablo it was, gallantly measuring those miles once again. I can therefore with confidence say:
Miles munched: 45.06, to the inch!