Sad to see Debra and my daughter leave. Unofficially they’d been my support crew from Tarifa and the Rock of Gibraltar, even if they didn’t drive a van with spares in. Now solo cycling from Málaga to Salobreña might be lonely, and the hills promised to be steep.

One of the questions I wanted to answer for myself is: would I have enjoyed living in Spain when I was young? I’ve always had a yearning for travel, and I’d count Spanish as one of my favourite cuisines. But eating in a country is entirely different from living in a country.

I knew I’d get plenty of time to think while cycling. My plan was to stop at Nerja, and visit the Nerja Caves next morning. The other main attraction I had to look forward to was Castillo de Salobreña, perched high on a hill.

First, I had to get through a day of cycling.

Day 4: Cycling from Málaga to Salobreña

Image by Graham Caldow

When I set off, the sun was low in the sky. Few people were out and I weaved along the path. In no time I found myself on the coastal promenade going north. Golden sunrays bounced off palm trees, and it felt good to be cycling. 

This easy ride continued. And even when a hill blocked the way, it was a gentle gravel track that hugged the coastline, before it rejoined the road.

If Debra and my daughter weren’t flying back to England that day, my overwhelming emotion would’ve been joy. Joy to be alive and cycling. Joy to be doing something I wanted to do for me.

For the first 3 days they’d been my unofficial support crew. They didn’t drive behind me in a support vehicle. But they did arrange accommodation for the nights and essential supplies, like water for when I arrived and snacks. I didn’t need to think about breakfast or where I’d eat at night.

Over the next month I’ll miss them. But my daughter had to return home to go to work. And my wife had to return home to support her, as we both do, in her day-to-day life.

Camper Van Parks Reawaken Questions

Image by Graham Caldow

It’s not only the Brits that fly south for winter, many Europeans do too. And why shouldn’t they? The Costa del Sol has hours of sunshine rather than low sunshine and long gloomy nights of a northern Europe winter.

When Debra and I were younger, we had this dream of moving to Barcelona. We wanted a café lifestyle. The opportunity to learn a foreign language, something all native English seem to struggle with. And a chance to live an exciting life.

Our eldest daughter was young at the time, and we believed the move possible. But when our second daughter was born with additional needs, we remained in the UK. Like many parents in our position, it wasn’t just we who had to make compromises, our eldest was affected too. The life her friends had was very different to my daughter’s, with all our trips to hospitals.

Now things have moved on, and both our children are doing well in different ways. But one question has always stuck in my head, how would we enjoyed living in Spain? Would we have been happy? Would we have lived the sort of life we wanted?

It was too early on my ride to Bilbao to answer those questions. My main concern today was my legs. I didn’t carry enough food. My legs were dying – that feeling of heavy pedals when you haven’t given your body the fuel it needs. I looked and looked for a good place to lunch. I ended up riding further than I wanted before I stopped.

Goat Salad Lunch

Meals are an event is Spain, not a process. Lunch isn’t shoving down a quick sandwich on the run. It’s a meal to be savoured. And prices reflect this, even for salads.

As a Brit, the thought of paying a lot for a salad seemed alien. We don’t have salad weather, so they aren’t the dish we turn to when we dine out. But there was something about the sound of

enchilada de cabra y salsa de frutos rojos

This roughly translates as goat salad with a sauce of red fruits. Vague but intriguing.

Image by Graham Caldow

When it arrived, it was laden with fresh leaves dressed in a red sauce. But what made the taste pop were little whole berries with a sharp, sweet taste. Add naturally ripened tomatoes and avocado that have been allowed to soften with time, rather picked and packed onto a container to get to an approximation of ripeness on the way to a supermarket, and it becomes a salad worth paying for.

The star of the show, though, was salty goat’s cheese. It gave the salad had a complexity that an average salad doesn’t have, sweetness, sharpness, saltiness, and a host of contrasting flavours. Well worth 14 Euros, and more!

Spain has a lot to teach me. It was the lunch I could get used to but for one small detail – it was filling, and I had to cycle in the afternoon.

I passed more campervans as I rode. Nerja was to be the place I stopped for the night cycling from Málaga to Salobreña.

Watch cycling from Málaga to Salobreña

Day 5: Cycling from Málaga to Salobreña

Nerja Caves

Just outside Nerja is Cueva de Nerja, a vast complex of underground caves. These limestone caverns stretch for over 4 kilometres, divided into several halls, including one large enough to host concerts. The caves are 158 metres above sea level, with an entryway opened to tourists in 1960.

I found the audio guide excellent; a key tourist sight consideration when you don’t really speak the language. Also useful was clear indication about which audios to play at what point along the path.

But what really impressed me were the stalactites and stalagmites jutting from the floors and roofs of the caverns. I’m no measuring expert, but I guessed some of the caves were 50-100 feet high.

Image by Graham Caldow

In the darkness I sat for a long time on a bench, taking in the eery views. I dwelled long enough to see tourists take off jackets and hoodies. It’s surprising how hot the caves were, considering we were underground.

As I reflected, I couldn’t help feel it would be wonderful to share the experience with someone. Sometimes part of a tourist experience is being able to say, “Do you remember that time when we …?”

On the Road Again

If I wasn’t hot enough in the caves, the road uphill made me sweat. As the road went on, the hills became more daunting.

Image by Graham Caldow

I paused at a road sign which pictured a pushbike and the words “Atención Motoristas.” The numbers were clear: 6 victims in 5 years. What wasn’t so clear was whether that’s the fault of careless driving or of hills.

Around the corner, as the road wound up and on, I suspected it was from the hill climb.

Image by Graham Caldow

I felt it. Spain has more hills and mountains than I ever imagined. At the top the view was something to behold. The Med is classed as a sea but the turquoise sea giving way to open blue water and feels like something much larger. Below the beach is a speck in the downward distance.

The road took a nasty twist into a long, 650 metre tunnel. Each time a car passed, I got a whiff of pollution as a deafening noise rumbled through the tunnel. I couldn’t wait to get back outside to the natural beauty again.

Camper Van Freedom

Image by Graham Caldow

Every time I see campervans parked at the side of the road I think about freedom. What it would be. More people than I imagined were travelling around Europe with three- and four-year-olds.

What a fantastic experience for the children as well as parents! Quality time when they’re young, when they’re engaged, when they’re prepared to listen to you. I’m under no illusion; my children don’t want any words of wisdom from me.

While I don’t want to sound melancholy because I absolutely love having my children around, it’s also great to see them grow independent and make their own way in the world. I know I’m not the only parent who has a child dependent on them for whatever reason, and there are plenty of reasons.

My eldest is settled. My youngest needs more support to get to the stage where she can live her life on her own terms. It’s been a process that’s meant we’ve thought deeply about what a good life is, what an independent life is, and how we as people can get them.

We’ve drawn up a life plan, a trust [hyperlink], and I’ve written a book about our thought processes. But putting it all into action takes time, and so Debra and I are a long way from being free to do as we please. Hence we often travel separately from each other.

Joy of Downhill Speed

And now this time in Spain cycling is my time to travel. And it doesn’t get much better than the speed rush of going down a steep hill. As I went, I could see the coastline flit beside me, moving glimpses from the corner of my eyes. The road fell away. I picked up more speed. I pedalled like nobody’s business to pick up even more speed. The downhill lasted for ages but it was all too soon over.

Uphill after downhill. Downhill after uphill. The day got into a tiring rhythm. And the title of the coastline changed to Costa Tropical. This region is famous for growing subtropical fruits, partly because of the protection offered by the Sierra Nevada mountains. The mild winters and ample sunshine suit avocados, mangoes, custard apples, papayas, and guavas.

As I approached Salobreña, I could see the Castillo from miles away. By the end of the day, I was hot, exhausted, and in need of a good shower.

Image by Graham Caldow

I had booked accommodation through bookings.com the night before. While I didn’t expect accommodation to be a problem at this time of year, I didn’t expect to find reasonably priced places at such short notice so easy.

My daily routine cycling alone was becoming clear. Shop for water and provisions as soon as I arrived at my final down. Drink a 1.5lt bottle of water as soon as I got to my accommodation. Upload photos and videos to cloud. Eat. Book tomorrow’s accommodation. Turn lights out early to sleep.

Castillo de Salobreña

Dating back to the 10^th Century, Castillo de Salobreña towers over the surrounding countryside. The Moorish Nasrid dynasty initially built the fort as a defensive stronghold on the top of the hill.

Image by WavyBxi, Deposit Photos

The steps leading up seemed to go forever. Each little turn in the cobbled street led to another that darted off in an even steeper incline. Entry to the Castillo was a few Euros, and the uniformed attendant was officious. I looked up at the towers, and then walked up one of the ramparts and entered an inner courtyard. The architecture was, according to Wikipedia, a blend of Islamic and Christian. The fortress was captured by Catholic Monarchs in 1489, and they added their renovations.

If I’m honest there wasn’t so much to see inside. Not many artefacts. A corrugated roof covered excavation to give a glimpse of how people would’ve lived. But not that much tangible to see.

What I did enjoy, however, was walking on the fortress walls, with spectacular 360 degree views of the surrounding countryside. It’s 100 metres above sea level. Looking inland was a wall of mountains.

I took in the view.

Looking out to sea made me contemplative. I sat on the parapet for a long while, taking in what breeze there was, not thinking about how the sun might burn. Sometimes it’s important to be in the moment. And while the Castillo de Salobreña isn’t necessarily an outstanding attraction, I found it’s sturdy presence serene.

Image by Fireandstone, Deposit Photos

Days 4-5 cycling from Málaga to Salobreña saw 63 miles covered, making a total of 192.

The goat salad lingered on my memories taste buds. The memory of the extra-long hill I wanted to eradicate from my mind. But the thoughts I most had were for my daughter going back to work, and my wife having to go back home with her, because I wouldn’t have anyone to share the experiences.

I settled into a new routine – shopping, water, eat, and bed. And I looked forward to heading to Almería over the next couple of days, finding what me-time is really all about.

Please comment below or feel free to ask questions.

Read to find out the goals I set myself and Days 2-3 …

Image by Graham Caldow: Cycling from Málaga to Salobreña