Great rides: Tapas and cycle trails

The scent of pine trees filled the warm air as our tyres scrunched over a dusty gravel track. The mountains of the Sierra Espuña towered above, the highest peak 1,583m. It was hard to imagine that this was once nothing but barren desert.

Ecologist Ricardo Codorníu started reforesting the area in 1889, the same year Scotland’s iconic Forth Bridge was completed. His efforts earned him the title ‘apostle of the tree’, and they provided us with a very pleasant second day of cycling in Murcia.

While we had originally planned this trip for June, I was more than happy that we had postponed our journey to the end of September. On the night we arrived, it was still hot and muggy.

Two days into our trip, the air had cooled down significantly, signalling the start of autumn in Spain. We both agreed that the conditions for cycling were close to perfect.

Travelling light

Our five-day trip started from Cartagena and took us on gravel paths, quiet roads, Vías Verdes (Greenways) and singletrack paths to the holy city of Caravaca de la Cruz, then on to Murcia. For me, it was a short break before running my last event in the UK, the Dunoon Dirt Dash, and then heading off on a monthly work visit to the US and Canada.

My partner Louise, currently on a sabbatical from her work at the Norwegian University of Life Sciences, joined me for this credit-card bikepacking trip. We both needed time off after a busy summer – and from a September that had been very wet in Scotland.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but there were good reasons to visit: an extensive network of former railway lines that would form the backbone of our journey; the opportunity to visit one of only five holy cities in the world; and the ability to order food well after 8pm. We were not disappointed.

Day one started with an early breakfast at our hotel in Cartagena, followed by a quick bike assembly session and the usual realisation that, even with only one piece of checked luggage between us, we had packed too much.

We had rooms, dinner and breakfast booked in advance, and with temperatures like a hot Scottish summer, we didn’t need to carry much. Half our stuff stayed behind in the hotel as we set off.

Terrain hilly, battery flat

With 1,300m of climbing packed into 86km, the first day was also by far the hardest, with the longest climb right at the end. About halfway through the day we joined the Campo de Cartagena Greenway, one of many in the region. This was cycling heaven, a traffic-free track with smooth gravel for about 15km.

On the edge of the Greenway, we spotted lots of chupaeros. These small snails, found in orchards and fennel fields, are commonly used in the cuisine of the region of Murcia, although harvesting them in the wild is banned.

I had the suspicion that the first day would be a bit too much for Louise’s e-bike. And as we rolled into Totana, our last big town for the day, the battery was down to 3%. Thankfully, Louise and I can easily swap bikes.

Shortly after we left the town boundary, I found myself reminded of my singlespeed trip around the world. This time I had gears but was pedalling 400m uphill on a heavy bike with no motor assistance.

Later than anticipated, we rolled into our accommodation just as it got dark. We were delighted to find a wonderfully decorated room in the Mirador de Aledo Hotel, nestled in beautiful countryside, with a view towards the mountains of the Sierra Espuña.

Even better, this wasn’t like Scotland where ordering dinner after 8pm can sometimes be a real challenge, especially in the off-season. Arriving at our table at 9pm, we were the first guests. As well as seafood and a lovely bottle of Spanish white wine, we had a chat with the owner, our cook for the night.

Pine-clad mountains

Day two took us on a tour of the Sierra Espuña Regional Park. With rain forecast, we packed our waterproofs. Our day’s 1,130m of climbing was stretched over 52km, but our initial fears that we would run out of battery again were not realised.

Travelling without luggage meant less work for Louise’s bike, and we arrived back at our hotel with plenty of juice left.

Out of the five days on the bike, this was my favourite. After an initial climb on tarmac roads, we hit the gravel at around nine kilometres. From there on we had the tracks to ourselves. The visitor centre, halfway through the ride, was perfect to learn more about the park and enjoy our lunch.

After a second short section on tarmac, we were alone on the trails again. Another welcome difference from cycling in Scotland was the attitude of Spanish drivers. Every time a car passed, the driver gave us plenty of space.

We were sad to leave our hotel behind on day three but were equally excited to visit Caravaca de la Cruz. The holy city, with its skyline dominated by the Basilica of Vera Cruz, houses the Cross of Caravaca. It’s a relic that, according to Christian tradition, is believed to be a fragment of the True Cross.

That’s not the only cultural asset which makes the city world famous. The celebration of Horses of Wine, now listed as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO, takes place each year in May. It culminates in a race, where elaborately dressed horses are run uphill by four men who must hold on throughout.

History and culture

Our route on day three mostly followed the signposts between Totana and Caravaca de la Cruz, which connects the ends of the Campo de Cartagena and Noroeste Greenways.

At first we cycled through the same stunning pine woods we much admired on day two. But it was the last section, about 10km from the finish in the holy city, that really blew us away.

After riding on a mixture of nice gravel tracks and some quieter roads, we found ourselves in a steep-sided gorge. The river in the gorge hadn’t dried up – a novelty on the trip so far – and it was incredibly beautiful.

Above us towered Cueva Negra, the Black Cave, the site of the discovery of the Heidelberg Man (Homo heidelbergensis), who appears to be the direct precursor of the Neanderthals. I didn’t realise its significance in the moment but found out later when reading more about the place.

The riding from here was a bit surreal. The champagne colour of the fields matched that of the smooth gravel tracks that took us to the city boundary of Caravaca de la Cruz, while green forests loomed in the background.

Walking the quiet streets of the beautiful town and enjoying another fabulous meal was the perfect end to another great day.

Freewheeling downhill

On our fourth day we were accompanied by José, a local guide from The Osados. Our route would be longer than 100km, so Louise wasn’t sure if she’d once again end up without assistance, but our initial fears were groundless.

We rode mainly downhill towards Murcia on the Noroeste Greenway. José knew all the good food stops along the route. After a few kilometres we rolled into our first café, followed by a stop at a bakery and a late lunch in a tapas restaurant.

Again, the landscape felt dreamlike: white, chalky terraced cliffs, intersected by the former railway line. The closer we got to Murcia, the greener our surroundings became.

José left us at the hotel, and our bikes found a final resting place for the night in a proper bike garage, which could easily hold up to 20 bikes. After a sunrise loop in the Carrascoy y El Valle Regional Park, I was curious why José suggested another round trip instead of closing the loop by cycling to Cartagena.

Trails to rails

We scoped out a route from Murcia to Cartagena and took the train back to our hotel. In comparison to the four days we had just spent in the saddle, the 75km route to the train station was quite boring. It reminded me of a previous trip to Spain, where cycling along the coast turned out to be much less attractive than in the mountains further inland.

Our train fare back to Murcia was only €6, and we had still spent a good day cycling in the sun. While Louise enjoyed the view from the pool on the rooftop of the hotel, I added another loop on the bike in the Carrascoy y El Valle Regional Park to enjoy the sunset.

José picked up Louise’s e-bike and gave us a lift back to the airport. He left us with the words ‘Mi casa, su casa’ – my house is your house. And Louise and I agreed that this surely wasn’t the last time we’d be bikepacking here.