Day 52 - Madrid
2 February 2022
Up early. Head to breakfast. Un Gato en Bicicleta. Again. If you are on a good thing. We grab some bocadillo for the train ride. Jamón and avocado. Delicious. Head back to load up the bikes and hit the train station. On the road by 11.00 am.
Today our phones need recharging. First, you must add money. Then you must recharge. The website is not accepting our card. Shell quickly locates a Vodafone. We walk over. It is in a shopping complex. Find it eventually. Apply funds. Back to accommodation. Recharge. It is now 11.15 am and we have not loaded the bikes. The train departs at 11.55 am.
We load the bikes. Set the GPS to Sevilla Santa Justa. Arrival time - 11.50 am. Concern. I have the GPS set to walk. Calibrate. Arrival time 11.40 am. Better. Not great. Crisis averted.
Hussle to the station. The MD1907, departs from Seville at 11.55 am. Arrives in Madrid at 8.10 pm. Platform 7. It is there waiting for us. We arrive with ten minutes to spare. Bikes unloaded. Our wheels are too large for the mounting brackets so we just lean them on the bike racks. We are away.
“No matter what you do it's bound to be a waste of time in the end so you might as well go mad.” ― Jack Kerouac
12.10 pm I am hungry. Too soon for food Shell suggests.
I love trains. The MD service is luxury. It has tables. Blinds for the windows should the sun be too bright. Comfortable seats and kind conductors.
I watch the landscape fly past. Olives and vineyards. It is a dry country. Reminds me of Australia. Sheep country. Occasionally the Iberíco pigs. Sometimes goats. The land is not rich enough for dairy. I see no beef cattle.
I have started reading a Roman Payne novel. I like the author’s story. I love his poetry. The Wanderess. The book is partly told in Spain. I have been to some of the places he writes about. I like this.
“What is a Wanderess? Bound by no boundaries, contained by no countries, tamed by no time, she is the force of nature’s course.” ― Roman Payne
Shell is reading her book. The sun is coming through the window lighting her face. Beautiful.
She is with me
She is not mine
You cannot own a mountain
You cannot own the sea
She is with me
She belongs to no one
The day rolls on. We eat the bocadillo. I eat most of the bocadillo.
The sun begins to sink and the landscape turns orange. Beautiful. It is still dry. Arid. There is a mountain range in the distance. Sistema Central. Its highest peak is Pico Almanzor. I could be staring at it and not know. It is mostly farmland. I would guess we are in the grain belt. It has the feel of wheat, oats, and barley. It is green with human intervention.
“I am losing precious days. I am degenerating into a machine for making money. I am learning nothing in this trivial world of men. I must break away and get out into the mountains to learn the news” ― John Muir
We arrive late in Madrid. We have a ride to our accommodation.
No more for today.
Today’s train ride -