Oranges, Prostitutes and Camping

Friday 27th March

The alarm went off at 7am......What the hell is that? Who did that? Bloody Will! Didn't stop us laying in bed for another hour or so, having tea and coffee, before getting packed up to head off again. We tidied the villa (thanks again Toni and Ken) and we were ready to go about 10:15am.

Will's way of drying the washing....not quite how the Spanish do it.

The ride out of Javea was pretty good, better than expected as far as the hills went, as we opted for going around the big mountain instead of straight over it. It was a reasonable incline that I could manage with just a bit of huffing and puffing, but all pedalling.

A few stops for roadworks, weird for bikes, but fun too. The rest of the day was pretty flat or slight inclines, leaving us plenty of energy for sight seeing.

                    

Going around the mountain

                                

             

We spent a fair few kilometres riding on the N332 highway, which is pretty safe with a very wide shoulder. When we mentioned to Karen we were planning to take that road, she sniggered and asked "You know about the N332, don't you?"......Well, it was obvious we had no idea what she meant, so we asked her to explain. Apparently, there are "Special Ladies" all along it, with "Special Skills". I didn't believe her.

Look closely,  she almost had no undies on. ...

Choofing along at about 20kms per hour, and I could see lots of Orange groves, and then a lady, sitting in a plastic outdoor chair. Hmmm, that is odd, and she was wearing nightclub heals covered in bling. "Hola" I say being friendly .... hhmmmmmm ..More oranges, and more ladies! They seem to be wearing less and less. Then I am looking up a way, and there is a small car parked on the shoulder and a "Lady" talking through the open door, who quickly kicks her plastic stool into the gutter and jumps into the car. We had to slow right down to wait for the car to head off across the road down a laneway ....ugh, I was shocked...."Special Ladies!"

                    

They really were all along it, the police don't seem to give a damn, they were also all along the N332. We veared off that highway, just after Oliva, onto a dedicated cycle path, that went straight into the centre of Gandia. It was lined by orange groves, and we had to keep our teeth together so we didn't eat too many bugs.

Hard taking photos on the go, but no "ladies"

Coming into Gandia

We stopped at the Port in Gandia for La Comida, Menu Del Dia, as we were starving. It was a very relaxing place, and we could watch all the fishing boats. 

Gandia port

              

Much needed lunch break, but won't need dinner.

From there we followed the beach, which had a lovely cycle path that went for about 6kms then we deviated to get ourselves to the Camping San Vincente. Big ride, but fun! Now for shower and bed. Don't need dinner, but need our own toilet paper...! Things are very different as far as caravan parks go......

                   

Gandia beach front board walk.

                                      

                                       If I swapped vehicles would they notice? They're the same colour.

Last bit of the beautiful ride along the sea front.

Camping San Vincente.  Different but first one.

A very kind German man, Peter, came over and offered us two little camp stools. We were seated on the little tiled wall, me on the ground. He was very nice and told us him and his wife holiday in Xeraco every year, in their luxury mobile home. We also had a lovely chat with John, who was a local, but had been educated in Australia, and had relatives still living in Australia. Nice.