It rains overnight and as we set off from Algeciras there are threatening clouds on the horizon. We take the bike path next to the port and find that despite the blue collar working vibe of Algeciras, there are lots of bike paths and very livable neighborhoods.

Like most Spanish towns, Algeciras is compact. We quickly transition from urban to rural and are delighted to see a few dozen black and white common cranes that have built massive nests in trees and on power poles. They look almost prehistoric and make a high pitched squawking sound that somehow seems slightly incongruous with their majestic stature.

Further out of Algeciras we take a few wrong turns (but the sun breaks through) and end up cycling beside a pretty estuary. There are large eucalyptus trees that smell wonderful after the rain. We take a gravel road towards the beautiful village of San Roque (which includes advanced puddle and tunnel navigation) and then ride through the old town’s cobblestone streets.

We continue on to San Juan de Sabinillas, where we enjoy a picnic on the beachside boardwalk. Almost everyone is bundled up, but for us 20 degrees Celsius feels warm and we enjoy the sun on our faces. As we ride east, we enter the Costa del Sol stretch of the Spanish Mediterranean. It’s low season and feels quiet, but the allure is obvious. Quaint seaside towns with beautiful beaches and views of Gibraltar and Africa.

We arrive in Estepona, which might be the quaintest of them all, and find a lovely hotel on the main square. Despite being dusty, scruffy (in my case) and a little wind blown, we are warmly welcomed into the lobby, the bikes are taken to a back room, and we enjoy a cold beer and peanuts.

Later, we walk through town and see a store that perhaps best encapsulates how reverently the Spanish view their national food: “Jamón y Salud” (Ham and Health). Forget the quinoa. Eat ham, be healthy. Simple. They apparently also teach a short course on ham slicing and appreciation.

The following morning, we depart Estepona refreshed and sated, having done a number on the lovely breakfast buffet. They clearly didn’t bargain for two hungry cyclists. We continue along the Costa del Sol, where we see lots of cyclists out for Sunday rides. At Marbella, we head inland and up into the Sierra de las Nieves national park, which contains the largest remaining Spanish Fir tree forest. It’s a long and steep climb from the seaside into the mountains, but the road is magnificent: narrow and winding through pretty forest and small towns, with views back to the Mediterranean. We see deer and lots of mountain bikers.

We descend into a mountain valley, where we ride through farms and orange groves on very small, often gravel, roads. The navigation is tricky. We see four different roads leading to the town of “Pie Gallina” (chicken foot): chicken foot road, chicken foot high road, chicken foot low road, and chicken foot new road. Despite all roads leading to chicken foot, we somehow miss it. Oh well, next trip.