I am your guest blogger today to tell you about the K's adventure in Espana for the World Duathlon Championship. If you remember from an earlier blog, Ginny had solicited your advice on the best way to travel with three people and two bikes from Madrid to Gijon, a city on the Northern Asturian coastline that was the scene of the race . Since then, son Eric dropped out because of running injuries, so the intrepid travelers were just Ginny, Gary and...me!
I was thrilled in Newark Airport when Senor Gary upgraded my ride from ordinary baggage to oversized first class. I was put in an exclusive area with other bike boxes, golf clubs and large packages. From Madrid Airport I rode in a taxi to our lovely downtown hotel which had been a former embassy building. Here is the view my Senor and Senora had from their room:
....while I was in basement storage. (Not that I'm complaining--I had a pleasant stay with a few other bikes, who somehow thought I should speak Italian and were a little disappointed when they learned I was from New Jersey.)
Meanwhile, out in Madrid, my Senor and Senora also enjoyed a visit to the Prado, Madrid's famous art museum, like the Louvre or the Metropolitan museum in New York. They can now tell the difference (most of the time) among the three most famous Spanish artists: Goya, El Greco and Velasquez, but please don't embarrass them by asking in a month or so because I'm sure they'll have them mixed up.
They also said they liked the Royal Palace and their tour guide, Patricia, who smiled and seemed to actually like American tourists. In each room she would say: "Remember this room. In my opinion it has the most beautiful (Pick one: chandelier, painting, rug, furniture) in the palace and in all of (pick one: Madrid, Spain, the world), in my opinion."
On Wednesday, another taxi van arrived and I briefly enjoyed the 80 degree Madrid weather before being wheeled into the Estacion de Chamartin. (train station). Inside we waited for the via (platform) to display on the overhead schedule, just like Penn Station and NJ Transit. Gary saw other Team USAers dragging their huge bike boxes behind them and went to talk with them. Muy grande problema. Bike boxes not allowed on the train. Such discrimination! What would I, poor Cervelo do? Luckily an enterprising Team USA guy named Bucky took charge and rented a truck and driver.
Now my real fun began. I waved goodbye to my Senor and Senora, as they boarded the sleek train. Ginny was ready to settle in and read book #2 for the trip. There were 10 of us who got to know each other as we waited for the driver to arrive a few hours later. We would be in Gijon by midnight. But the Spanish do not worry about arrival times and firm dates. Manana, manana is good enough. We took our time. I do not want to elaborate too much because Ginny and Gary might get jealous but I did love the leisurely 2 hour dinner that began at 10 pm, a stop for some flamenco dancing, a sidra(hard apple cider) nightcap, some Asturian bagpipe music, a stay in a country inn, blanca y negra cafe (dark coffee with hot milk) in the morning, a stroll through the mountains and our arrival in Gijon just in time for a late morning empanada snack. So what if the trip took 17 hours instead of 7--we were there! And Senor Gary was waiting with a grave look on his face.
Lucky for me the bike mechanic put me together, so I did not have to worry about Gary assembling me with his new torque wrench. One turn too many and the bike seat might crack. Gijon was beautiful-- a lovely stretch of beach--San Lorenzo Playa-- and finally I had the good view:
Gary took me out for a spin after the opening ceremonies. Here is Team USA:
I loved the 38 kilometer (23 mile) bike course. It wandered through the town, along the beach road and up a nice, challenging 8 km hill into the surrounding countryside with villas tucked away behind stone walls. I was glad we avoided the industrial sections because there is a lot of chemical and metal processing industry in this city of 260,000.
I don't know if you can see well in these pictures, but my friends, the other bikes, all sat in the windows of the hotel looking out over the beach and waiting for race day!
Race day was a comfortable, beautiful day and Gary was very happy with his results-33 out of 41 in his age group. No medals, but a good day.
We returned to Madrid via bus(them) and truck(me). Here I am with Gary for a final voyage with my old pals Cannondale, Kestrel and Eddy Merckx. I was excited it was the same truck company, but, alas, a driver who focused on getting to Madrid directly.
I think my Senor and Senora enjoyed their trip very much. Gary didn't talk or think about work for a whole week and Ginny didn't talk or think about the upcoming breast cancer conference for a whole week. Now that's a vacation!
As for me, I seem to be having some trouble with jet lag. Can't seem to get my wheels back on and get moving about. But one thing I learned: Manana, manana.
I was thrilled in Newark Airport when Senor Gary upgraded my ride from ordinary baggage to oversized first class. I was put in an exclusive area with other bike boxes, golf clubs and large packages. From Madrid Airport I rode in a taxi to our lovely downtown hotel which had been a former embassy building. Here is the view my Senor and Senora had from their room:
 |
| from the balcony at Hotel Insur Palacio San Martin |
....while I was in basement storage. (Not that I'm complaining--I had a pleasant stay with a few other bikes, who somehow thought I should speak Italian and were a little disappointed when they learned I was from New Jersey.)
Meanwhile, out in Madrid, my Senor and Senora also enjoyed a visit to the Prado, Madrid's famous art museum, like the Louvre or the Metropolitan museum in New York. They can now tell the difference (most of the time) among the three most famous Spanish artists: Goya, El Greco and Velasquez, but please don't embarrass them by asking in a month or so because I'm sure they'll have them mixed up.
They also said they liked the Royal Palace and their tour guide, Patricia, who smiled and seemed to actually like American tourists. In each room she would say: "Remember this room. In my opinion it has the most beautiful (Pick one: chandelier, painting, rug, furniture) in the palace and in all of (pick one: Madrid, Spain, the world), in my opinion."
On Wednesday, another taxi van arrived and I briefly enjoyed the 80 degree Madrid weather before being wheeled into the Estacion de Chamartin. (train station). Inside we waited for the via (platform) to display on the overhead schedule, just like Penn Station and NJ Transit. Gary saw other Team USAers dragging their huge bike boxes behind them and went to talk with them. Muy grande problema. Bike boxes not allowed on the train. Such discrimination! What would I, poor Cervelo do? Luckily an enterprising Team USA guy named Bucky took charge and rented a truck and driver.
Now my real fun began. I waved goodbye to my Senor and Senora, as they boarded the sleek train. Ginny was ready to settle in and read book #2 for the trip. There were 10 of us who got to know each other as we waited for the driver to arrive a few hours later. We would be in Gijon by midnight. But the Spanish do not worry about arrival times and firm dates. Manana, manana is good enough. We took our time. I do not want to elaborate too much because Ginny and Gary might get jealous but I did love the leisurely 2 hour dinner that began at 10 pm, a stop for some flamenco dancing, a sidra(hard apple cider) nightcap, some Asturian bagpipe music, a stay in a country inn, blanca y negra cafe (dark coffee with hot milk) in the morning, a stroll through the mountains and our arrival in Gijon just in time for a late morning empanada snack. So what if the trip took 17 hours instead of 7--we were there! And Senor Gary was waiting with a grave look on his face.
Lucky for me the bike mechanic put me together, so I did not have to worry about Gary assembling me with his new torque wrench. One turn too many and the bike seat might crack. Gijon was beautiful-- a lovely stretch of beach--San Lorenzo Playa-- and finally I had the good view:
Gary took me out for a spin after the opening ceremonies. Here is Team USA:
 |
| Team USA on their way to the Opening Ceremonies in the old city |
I loved the 38 kilometer (23 mile) bike course. It wandered through the town, along the beach road and up a nice, challenging 8 km hill into the surrounding countryside with villas tucked away behind stone walls. I was glad we avoided the industrial sections because there is a lot of chemical and metal processing industry in this city of 260,000.
I don't know if you can see well in these pictures, but my friends, the other bikes, all sat in the windows of the hotel looking out over the beach and waiting for race day!
 | |||||
| A bike in every window! |
Race day was a comfortable, beautiful day and Gary was very happy with his results-33 out of 41 in his age group. No medals, but a good day.
We returned to Madrid via bus(them) and truck(me). Here I am with Gary for a final voyage with my old pals Cannondale, Kestrel and Eddy Merckx. I was excited it was the same truck company, but, alas, a driver who focused on getting to Madrid directly.
I think my Senor and Senora enjoyed their trip very much. Gary didn't talk or think about work for a whole week and Ginny didn't talk or think about the upcoming breast cancer conference for a whole week. Now that's a vacation!
As for me, I seem to be having some trouble with jet lag. Can't seem to get my wheels back on and get moving about. But one thing I learned: Manana, manana.
 | |
| Good to be home, but I feel like I'm all in pieces! |
