clairedavieswriter

Yes, it was a long way, but oddly, we don’t feel too knackered. Perhaps we were right to opt for chickpea stew last night instead of snails, like everyone else did (it’s the season for them apparently)

Or perhaps our relative sprightliness is down to the ease with which we sped out of Sevilla – riding on more than 10km of traffic-free cycle paths, directly from our door:

With the city’s famous oranges strewn under our wheels:

Perhaps it’s because we found an attractive spot at just the right moment for coffee:

And pre-lunch drinks:

Or we could attribute it to the 50km we spent cycling through the equivalent of Lincolnshire or the Somerset Levels (with a following wind):

It was certainly no thanks to Guillaume, who after a couple of weeks on best behaviour was back to his old tricks again. The resulting detour meant that we saw more of this scenery than we’d expected, on the hottest day so far

But whatever the reason, we were in pretty good shape by the time we reached what we think is our final province in Spain:

And our destination for the day, where we discovered, in a truly epic piece of poor planning, that we would miss the start of the annual Feria del Caballo by a matter of hours. Possibly to make up for his earlier gaffe, Guillaume galloped us through the fairground on our way into town, so we didn’t miss out entirely

We didn’t have to go far to see how Jerez made its name:

And one thing:

Soon led to another:

Before that, we did manage to spot the cathedral:

And the Alcázar:

But in truth, every road in Jerez leads back to its famous tipple:

Although it seems some also lead to Santiago de Compostela:

Tonight, Bernard is unpacking his bucket and spade, because tomorrow we’re off to the beach. I’m still weighing up whether to follow Guillaume or this guy…