Blown away in Tafalla
June 19, 2009
I got my wish for cooler temperatures today, but at a steep price. There was a little rain (which in itself wasn’t bothersome) but the wind was fierce. No place to run, no place to hide, it had me in the sites of its gun. After 65 miles I threw in the towel, raised the white flag, and cried uncle. It’s only 20 miles to Pamplona which would have been another two hours on the bike. Tomorrow’s weather will tell me if I made the right choice. For now I’m enjoying the air conditioning and a bottle of local Navarra red wine.
I don’t think the wind is unusual since I saw hundreds of windmills today. I took a back-road first thing this morning (which unbeknownst to me climbed almost 1000 feet) up to a ridge where I counted 80 wind turbines.
some of the many wind turbines
much of the land was terraced
This is the best bull shot I've gotten so far.
I had one fun encounter this morning. I was climbing a hill a few miles out of Tudela when a serious looking biker came by me. This guy was standing up, pounding on the pedals, and didn’t even glance at me as he passed. I might not be able to speak Spanish, but I’m completely fluent in the universal language he was speaking with his bike. I dropped a few gears and chased after him. When I started gaining on him I pushed harder and came up on his rear wheel. I decided there were three options: 1) pull up alongside and say halo; 2) go around him; or 3) sit in his draft. He already showed that he wasn’t interested in talking, and I didn’t think I could ride faster than him into the head-wind, so I picked option 3. He played the perfect victim; half glancing behind to see if I was still on his wheel and repeatedly sprinting to try and drop me. We flew along for a couple of miles (including several traffic circles) before he finally put an end to it by diving off on a side street. For those few minutes my legs weren’t tired, the bike wasn’t heavy, and I wasn’t bothered by the wind. I finally had a conversation with a local where we understood each other perfectly.
As to dealing with locals in verbal conversations I’ve finally broken the code. “Hablo espanol un poco” doesn’t really mean “I only speak a little Spanish”. It means: “Please talk as fast as you can and use all the words you know.” It happens time after time, and I just stand there like a deer in the headlights. What I need to do is ask them to slowly repeat themselves, but I always think that if I listen harder I’ll be able to understand. It’s gotten better over three weeks, and I’m now confident that things would be fine after three years.
It’s strange to think about flying home a week from tomorrow. I just got here, and yet I’ve been here for long time. How do you put the genie back in the bottle?
View Larger Map
I got my wish for cooler temperatures today, but at a steep price. There was a little rain (which in itself wasn’t bothersome) but the wind was fierce. No place to run, no place to hide, it had me in the sites of its gun. After 65 miles I threw in the towel, raised the white flag, and cried uncle. It’s only 20 miles to Pamplona which would have been another two hours on the bike. Tomorrow’s weather will tell me if I made the right choice. For now I’m enjoying the air conditioning and a bottle of local Navarra red wine.
I don’t think the wind is unusual since I saw hundreds of windmills today. I took a back-road first thing this morning (which unbeknownst to me climbed almost 1000 feet) up to a ridge where I counted 80 wind turbines.
some of the many wind turbines
much of the land was terraced
This is the best bull shot I've gotten so far.
I had one fun encounter this morning. I was climbing a hill a few miles out of Tudela when a serious looking biker came by me. This guy was standing up, pounding on the pedals, and didn’t even glance at me as he passed. I might not be able to speak Spanish, but I’m completely fluent in the universal language he was speaking with his bike. I dropped a few gears and chased after him. When I started gaining on him I pushed harder and came up on his rear wheel. I decided there were three options: 1) pull up alongside and say halo; 2) go around him; or 3) sit in his draft. He already showed that he wasn’t interested in talking, and I didn’t think I could ride faster than him into the head-wind, so I picked option 3. He played the perfect victim; half glancing behind to see if I was still on his wheel and repeatedly sprinting to try and drop me. We flew along for a couple of miles (including several traffic circles) before he finally put an end to it by diving off on a side street. For those few minutes my legs weren’t tired, the bike wasn’t heavy, and I wasn’t bothered by the wind. I finally had a conversation with a local where we understood each other perfectly.
As to dealing with locals in verbal conversations I’ve finally broken the code. “Hablo espanol un poco” doesn’t really mean “I only speak a little Spanish”. It means: “Please talk as fast as you can and use all the words you know.” It happens time after time, and I just stand there like a deer in the headlights. What I need to do is ask them to slowly repeat themselves, but I always think that if I listen harder I’ll be able to understand. It’s gotten better over three weeks, and I’m now confident that things would be fine after three years.
It’s strange to think about flying home a week from tomorrow. I just got here, and yet I’ve been here for long time. How do you put the genie back in the bottle?
View Larger Map
posted by Gary and Jani at 10:37 AM
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