Completing one loop of the figure eight

            When we decided to change our original route of Lisbon to Milan, to a more manageable trip through parts of Spain and Portugal, we envisioned a figure eight lying prone across the south of the two countries beginning and ending in Lisbon. We are about to close the eastern loop of the eight when we cross the bridge in Huelva early tomorrow morning. We first crossed that bridge four weeks ago. In the meantime we have cycled through every province in the Andalusia and have surpassed 1200 total trip miles.              Our two night stay in a simple, but lovely little pension in Cadiz gave us a chance to witness the first of Spain's passionate Holy Week celebrations.  It was Palm Sunday and many of the churches in Cadiz were sending opulent pasos, or floats, bearing Jesus, other figures associated with his trip to the cross, and Mary.  The pasos, some of which are centuries old, made their way through the streets of the city accompanied by marching bands and robed and hooded individuals carrying candles and crosses, until they reached the cathedral where they climbed a ramp and entered through the grand front door. The floats looked extremely heavy and as many as 50 individuals clustered under them to bear the weight.  Thousands and thousands of people jammed the streets to witness the processions. The same thing was taking place in cities, towns, and villages throughout Spain, and would continue every day through Easter.

 

 

 

          Glad that we had the chance to take in the festivities, we were also ready to be back on the bikes. We headed out while it was still dark on Monday morning to catch a ferry that would save us 22 miles of peddling off the peninsula of which Cadiz forms the tip. The Levantes were still blowing and getting the bikes up the ramp and stowed was a small challenge without our "sea legs".  Throughout the day, as we cycled north and inland the winds finally began to diminish. Such a relief!

              The days since included one more ferry ride on a small boat across a small river in the middle of nowhere, again saving us miles of peddling.  The rides have been cycle-tourists delights -- virtually flat and wind free for mile upon mile, with sweeping views of open plains, fields of poppies and other wild flowers, and thousands upon thousands of acres of ripe strawberries being picked by bus loads of agricultural workers. Today we hit the coast again and are in a campground just above the Atlantic. While the south coast of Spain is called the Costa del Sol, this one is referred to as the Costa del Luz, the coast of light. Again, it is aptly named!