Two weeks in Granada

I am writing this offline as we have no internet access where we currently are in Spain. Will find an internet cafe and cut and paste it sometime this week.
Well we finally got down here after what felt like an endurance event in itself! Three days driving constantly was....long. We crossed on the Eurotunnel as it was Finn’s first trip and we didn’t want to leave him in the car on the ferry. First night we stopped at a great chateau in LeMans, lots of walking acreage for Finn, lots of nice wines for us! J’adore France! Next night we made it to Burgos in Spain. Unfortunately our hotel was in the centre of the city but it was next to the very beautiful cathedral. A bit of a trial to get to and not ideal for stopping over with a hound. Nevertheless we had a good time and finally made it down to Granada on Thursday afternoon.
This is a lovely area, all mountains and olive groves. Very Spanish too – not a great deal of tourism which is really refreshing. Though our Spanish leaves a lot to be desired, John’s Portuguese does help a bit. The weather was good enough on Friday for John to go for a 40mile ride. He came home raving enthusiastically about the inclines and fantastic road surfaces. I could hardly wait to get out there!
So Saturday, after dog walking and chores, we headed out together. John had identified a good route for me. It was great to be out on the bike again after a whole week off. The drivers here are very respectful of cyclists and give a wide berth. The road up to Illora is a long, slow incline which I was very pleased to have managed. Slowly but surely. Then great undulating road for 6.6 miles to Tocon. Lots of wheeeeeeee downflats and some nicely challenging (for me) upflats. John made me smile. It was not much of a challenge for the Ironman, obviously. But he made his own fun. First by selecting big gears when cycling uphill. Secondly by not pedalling at all between two villages – a distance of some good few km. He made even more fun for himself on the return leg. See next paragraph!
He was ahead of me as we entered uphill into a small village called Alomortes. He pulled over to look back to see where I was and leaned against a lamppost. Not thinking ‘safety first’ he didn’t bother to unclip his feet from his cleats. (To the uninitiated these are medieval type devices which keep ones feet clipped on to the pedal. One has to master untwisting oneself from them in an emergency). His front wheel slipped and he tumbled sideways. Not a massive fall for an Ironman but in a freak accident his hand hit the tri-bar on the front. I saw him fall and by the time I got up the hill he was asking a passerby where the nearest hospital was. I caught sight of his middle finger on his left hand and it was bent at a 45 deg angle ­and pretty gruesome looking. Just then a paramedic turned up (how lucky are we with our rescue angels – see last blog entry). He tried but failed to manipulate it back into place so there was nothing to do but cycle the 6-7 miles back to the villa to collect the car. The paramedic had told us to go to Granada hospital which was good to know!
Even with a dislocated finger (and the shock he must have felt) John still beat me to get home. Mind you, I guess he was well motivated! Though I did pedal like mad which was surprising as going up the hill before the accident I was very tired and thought we’d just amble back! Huh, it was full-tilt all the way.
Still we made it and spent a challenging afternoon negotiating Granada city to find the hospital. Then the challenge of being unable to speak Spanish in the hospital. Luckily John’s injury spoke for itself (and being the finger it was looked like he was giving some kind of displaced insult to all and sundry). He got pretty prompt treatment really. Three people tried twice to put said digit back to its original blueprint. Eventually a trauma specialist came and did the job. Lots of serious pulling and wrenching and a massive splint and bandage later, we were back at the villa. Phew. What an adventure.
So in the last month the man has had two injuries with pretty silly causes...the rugby Irish jig calf strain and the stationary fall dislocated finger.
Anyway the really good news is that the total distance of our ride was 31km! So I have cracked the 20 miles. Fantastic!
It’s Sunday today and wet. So we are resting up after a lovely drive out into the countryside. Beautiful around here, so it is. We have a wood burning fire lit (its still cold in these villas at the mo) and plan to spend the afternoon planning tommoro’s ride. And reading.