Saturday, September 26th
Another crisp, but sunny start to the day - it will eventually get quite warm. We're almost the last to start, again...
Graham and I leave before the Tonys, and the fog is still hanging over the valley ahead.
We seem to have left the orchards behind for a while, and the grape vines have returned - indeed there's a lot of fruit still waiting to be picked.
The landscape continues to be dramatic, and during the morning we cross back into the state of Valencia, then again back into Murcia, leaving Valencia behind, finally.
It's Saturday morning, and once again there are a lot of cyclists on the road - Tony D and Richard manage to get onto the back of one group and stay with them for about 10km.
Over the mountain pass the countryside changes significantly, becoming apparently much dryer, with a lot of erosion evident. More spaghetti western country?!
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, perhaps?
I couldn't resist this composition, including the artifical grass roundabout.
We stop for a final coke about 20km from the end of the day's ride.
We arrive about 12:30pm, and by 2:0pm we're looking for a good meal, especially for Graham. And we found the perfect place just a few blocks from the hotel.
Even the busker seemed appropriate.
Nearby, many other restaurants were also doing good business. Indeed, we later found just about every open area had outdoor restaurants, all full. The temperature was 32C, but out of the sun it still felt comfortable.
A perfect lunch in a perfect restaurant.
Our main courses - yes, chicken soup for Tony D and fish for the rest of us.
Washed down with a bottle of the local white, the local red, and the local dessert wine!
After lunch we went looking for the cathedral, but some the team were more interested in the local girls!
More restaurants, now packing up - it's already after 5:00pm!
The cathedral.
And a Virgin in one of its chapels.
Another nice square.
And the view of the street from inside the cathedral.
We went looking for the Teatro Romeu, but the church across the plaza was more interesting.
Meanwhile, back at the hotel, what's the collective noun for a group of Steves? Well, it makes a change from a group of Tonys I suppose.
Just in case we didn't realise we had entered bull fighting country, the hotel lobby has a few paintings to remind us.
After a short rest, and another drink at the bar, we adjourn to the local Irish Pub to watch England play Wales in the World Cup - there was at least one Englishman and one Welshman in the group, after all.
Final score: Wales 28 - England 25.
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