At 6.30, Simeon woke me up, as agreed. We had a coffee and cake. By 7.30, he had left for work. After chatting for a few minutes with Conchin, I also was on my way.

The air was still very cool. Soon I had the eerie feeling of feet losing their sensation with the cold, while the face sweated, as if the two parts did not pertain to the same body.

In order not to retrace my steps, I first headed further outwards, through Ador to the next valley. This is dissected by the new autovia (CV60), which slices through the landscape like a knife, allowing the villages through which the main road used to pass, to relax back into their slumber.

Following the the relentless, but fairly gentle, climb from the coast for an hour or so, Iwas already hungry and eager for the turn -off into the mountains. When   I turned off at Castello de Rugat, all noise stopped, like a hoover had been turned off. Quietly hidden amongst these mountains, is the little village of Salem. You happen upon it suddenly, which in my case, happened to be 9.30. The hour of the Spanish morning break (almuerzo). When I found the bar, I was delighted by the spacious sun-lit room, without the normal attendant noise of  a Spanish bar. As the workers entered, in dribs and drabs, each carrying his own foil-wrapped, home-made  bocadillo (roll), the barman would be over to their table in a flash, carrying what he knew from experience they would want- usually wine, beer or salad.

Fully refreshed, I now relished the  long ascent, despite being nearly wiped out by a coach swinging around a tight bend! From the top, I had an exhilarating descent to Beniarreis, where I decided to meander the streets during market day, and fast forward to Muro de Alcoy.

Soon, I was up and over hills that I now know quite well, that never cease to enchant me,  hardly touched by tourism, the view constantly changing.

Desperate to eat again, I managed to hold off till 12.45 and stopped in Benasau, in the shadow of the mighty Aitana  (1500m). For 7.50 euros, I had a 3 couse meal,  plus a beer and coffee. Now the highest climb of the day, up one of the passes around Aitana! I believe I  can now climb well, but my speed can go down to a crawl!  Bolting  down the other side, through one of my favourite villages, Confrides, I was fast approaching one of the most visited sites in Spain, that of Guadalest Castle, a quirky affair, welded to high pinnacles of rock.

From Guadalest, it is nearly all downhill to the coast at Altea. Then, following the coast for half an hour, I  am home.

On these rides, I am always seeing new places that I would dearly like to investigate. Once I get the bike made up that I will be using for the Tour d’Afrique, I shall go off-road more, to practice at rough terrain.

Cycling time: about 6.5 hours. Trip length: about120km.