Catalonia and Andalucia through to Italy, Greece and Crete. January to March 2025.
This will probably count as the most beautiful jouney I made. When it comes to weather I have been pretty good at mitigating the circumstances. However, this continuation of the journey carrying my mother's ashes was the complete opposite of its predecessor. Having had cancelled my ferry to Tunisia because of bad storms last time out I decided I would try and achieve the directive to reach Africa on this journey. But this time I would explore Andalucia first before deciding to head back up to Valencia to see my uncle.
I had a client friend down there whose house I wanted to marvel if I would dare to imagine it anything like his house in London. I decided to get the train to a place I had travelled to before, Antequary and its stunning medieval history, before moving on to where he lived in Competa, near Malaga. This was so that I could join this journey with two other journeys through Spain in order to make the complet circuit of my country. I couldn't arrive the first night due to losing the beaten track, and I ended up pushing my bike through tonnes of mud. Not that I missed their fantastic cooking as they saved the food for the following day. I was only there 2 days and then I went on to Valencia to see my uncle whose anxiety forced me out of the house. I started home to Catalonia but within a couple of hours just stopped, realizing that the journey was too short. I turned around and went back to Valencia to get the ferry to Mallorca, and then things started proper.
Again I headed for the monasteries in the mountains to savour its medieval history and planted a shrub at one of its gardens where I recorded a song in her memory. From there I went back to Barcelona on a ferry and caught another to Rome, marvelling at its history. This time though I would grind across the uneven landscape to Ancona and get a welcome ferry down to Patras on one of the best experiences I have had on boats. The forthcoming journey along the Peloponnese was total bliss, and I arrived to Crete not knowing at what point I should stop. From there it was a case of looking for a place to keep my bike. But an extraordinary thing happened, I stopped on a mountain to change my jacket and left my guitar behind by accident on the side of the road. Scampering back on the bike a car pulled up alongside me and gave me back the guitar. This was the beginning of a friendship, whose uncle in Heraklion would look after the bicycle until I came to collect it the following year. But that is another journey. For now the deep memory and song I wrote remain indelibly printed on my mind.
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