Shock ride from Valencia to Alicante
Waking up in the hostel. We slept very well, everyone in the room was very quiet and I was able to sleep very well. Funnily enough, I slept in a real bed for the first time on the trip and promptly got a backache. But no matter, we quietly pack our things and sneak out of the room. There is supposed to be breakfast at 8, for 2.50€ per person. We, typical Swiss punctuality, sit in the socialising kitchen-room a quarter to 8 with our things completely packed and wait. We wait until 15 past 8 and nothing happens. Apparently nothing is happening in a hostel this early. At half past 8 we get a sumptuous breakfast. Haha... But never mind, coffee, sugar water, uh, juice and white toast. Plus individually wrapped jam and cornflakes with soy milk. Oh, and another individually wrapped chocolate microissant. We take that with us for our zNüni, which will probably happen much later.
Our co-sleeper, a young Swiss woman, is slowly coming into the breakfast room, she is flying to Ibiza today. Her suitcase still says Lisbon, she's probably going on a European tour. Sometimes I'm a bit envious that I didn't do something so cool in the past. And then, very quickly, I think about my sweet children and I'm happy that I had them so early and I'm very very happy about it. And now, at my young age of 42, I get to jet around the country with my sweetheart. That's also very nice.
So we left the hostel in Valencia at 9 and were actually quite happy to leave the city. Somehow we don't find cities all that great. Maybe it's the heat, we don't really know. While we are driving out and I keep looking for a phone shop (we want to buy a sim card) we get into a small traffic jam. Apparently there was an accident further ahead. Suddenly we drive past the scene of the accident and there are two people lying on the road. The man's leg is turned strangely to the side, the woman is just lying on her side and we can't see what's going on. Sure enough, about 100 metres further on lies the motorbike. The shock goes through my bones. I feel sick to my stomach. I am scared. My head is spinning. A few people on the road guide us past cars and buses and there is probably already first aid. So we drive past very slowly. Gerd tells me later that he had observed the couple before, that they were driving outrageously fast in the bus lane, dressed only in shorts and a shirt. And helmet. But I didn't see the helmet when I drove past. Oh man, I'm getting restless again just writing this.
So we drive on. I feel like cutting short my own journey and just lying on the beach. I don't want to do a single kilometre more with the motorbike. But first we have to drive, as we are now on the motorway. Gerd drives a bit and I try to calm down.
While I am thinking like this, completely marked by fear and nausea, I do what I do best in these situations. I bless our journey. I bless the couple who had the accident and I bless all the helpers, all the doctors who must now be very busy. I bless and bless. And bless. And slowly it's getting a bit better and I'm actually slowing down a bit.
Meanwhile, my mobile phone tells me that the next town is Xàtiva and that it is probably a historically important town. So let's go there. A little distraction is very good for me (and, as I realise later, for Gerd too). In the town there is a listed old town through which we can drive through super narrow streets and then there is a castle high up, which of course we have to climb. The way up is very winding. In my mind I'm wishing for a nice café with a view over the whole city. Wish fulfilment programme goes very well again, at the top we drink our usual espresso and our new favourite drink, our Melcotón Zuma. We have a chocolate microissant and enjoy the view for a while. I'm not sure I want to talk about the accident. Because talking about it means thinking about it again. We are both rather quiet. Personally, I think the day is absolutely crap and would like to lock myself up somewhere.
The evening before, I had found a great mountain tour on a website for motorbike tours, which we actually want to do, hundreds of bends are the goal. I trust my darling and so we set off on this route. I know that if it doesn't work, we'll take a break and pitch our tent somewhere.
I am surprised by this beautiful landscape in the Spanish hinterland. Not far from the coast, it's simply gorgeous in the mountains. We curve up and down the passes, my fear evaporates and Gerd, as always, just drives well. I take photos for all I'm worth, enjoy the view and love life again. We drive and drive, the passes are about 1000 metres above sea level and it cools down from 30 to a fresh 25 degrees. We take breaks now and then, but mostly it's up and down, up and down serpentines. When we arrive in Alicante, we don't feel like stopping in this unattractive and completely built-up city and just drive on. A little later, we pass huge salt lakes and come to a beautiful sandy beach with a restaurant. Here we eat something, but have to get acquainted with the custom that here the kitchen does not open again until 7 or so. We look for a campsite and find one, again directly by the sea and without a pool. This is slowly becoming a sign of quality for us. If there are no pools, all hell doesn't break loose. Exactly our thing. We decide to stay here for 2 nights, after all, we want to relax, do some laundry, enjoy ourselves.
After setting up the tent, we go to the sea, into the sea and swim and frolic in the waves. It's so nice to be able to wash away the day, the anxiety, the driving stress. I think Gerd needs a lot more sleep here than I do, he also does a lot more. He is attentive all the time, he drives, he steers, he does. I enjoy. Maybe he does too, but differently.
After the bath we take a shower, everything is spotlessly clean here and then we grab our card game and go to the restaurant. Drink Sangria and are drunk once again. Well, not as much as in Valencia, but it's a bit of a twist.
Unfortunately, I don't win in the card game either. But I don't begrudge Gerd the win (a little).
Slowly it is time to sleep. We go to the tent, snuggle into our sleeping bags and realise that it is shortly after 9. We close our eyes and go to sleep.
