Finding our hotel in Sevilla (the hotel we had posted the bike bags to all those days ago) was like a mini tour in itself. Local after local gave us directions that sent us around the city from north to south and from east to west with the Goat wanting to stop for a cerveza in every bar along the way on the grounds that the quality of information was better from someone you knew was local. Unfortunately the quality of our understanding of this information deteriorated but we found it in the end, in the back streets and close to the river.
“You speak very good English,” said the Goat to the receptionist when we staggered through the door sweating and smelling from our efforts rather more than usual.
“Thanks. I am English,” said the Girl and a certain amount of guffawing took place which left the girl with the impression that she had just booked in two madmen.
The good news is that the bike bags had arrived and we took everything down to the garage in the basement of the hotel and took everything apart and threw it in the bags and dumped them in a dark corner to fester overnight. It is a great feeling to kick off the old cycling shoes and other sweaty accessories for the final time and get cleaned up for a proper look around the city.
We’ve been here before of course and we immediately went looking for an Argentinian bar which had pictures of the “hand of God” incident on its walls. But it had disappeared somewhere into the mists of time. The closest we came was finding a waiter in the Jewish quarter of town who said he knew of it. Then he asked if we were Liverpool fans and before we had the time to answer he said, “Never walk alone,” and rushed off to get us a plate of olives.
And so we passed our final hours in the great city that is Sevilla looking a bit like tramps. The Goat had attempted to clean his trousers and shoes but had failed somewhere between badly and miserably. And I had not cleaned my muddy shoes at all - though by some fortune a Real Betis shoe shine boy turned up out of the blue and spotted an opportunity to make a few euros and I was back in business with a clean pair of dappers and the whole of Sevilla before us.
And so that’s it for another year - Espana are about to win the World Cup and I will leave with my top 10 tips for cycling in Spain:
1 - Don’t get your nose broken by a golf club just before you’re about to go
2 - Check your passport didn’t expire just before Christmas
3 - Don’t let your mate watch England v Germany the afternoon before you’ve got to go to the airport
4 - Don’t waste money on hotels if you’re going to sleep in the municipal gardens. Just go straight there and book in at a nice looking flower bed
5 - Don’t believe anything the locals say ever.
6 - Don’t go to cafes that are located right next to dungheaps
7 - Don’t cycle in Spain in the afternoons
8 - Don’t take short cuts through orange groves at four in the morning
9 - Watch out for the melon guarders
10 - If you hear the Goat is coming, turn around and go the other way
Adios amigos y hasta luego
