I couldn’t sleep last night. My mind was tangled in all the sadness that the world is going through right now. The violence, the environmental calamities, and the political landscape left me nauseous. I lie awake for a while feeling selfish for taking these trips and writing such fluff. To top it off, somebody commented on this blog, basically calling me out on my narcissism. It is true, with such suffering, who am I to traipse around the world “exploring.”
There are so many horrors and atrocities, that they could bury any of us alive, but I can’t focus on them all the time or I wouldn’t make it, none of us would. My hope is to tell stories of the beauty in the world and the people that inhabit it. The connections, the variety and the fortitude keep me going. If I didn’t focus on these things, I think I would drown and what good would that do? So, forgive me my levity and selfishness.
Spain is made for cycling, there is no doubt. Despite our clunky, mule-like rented bicycles, that made us feel like out -of-shape middle-aged couch surfers every time a peloton of bicyclists blasted by (okay, maybe it wasn’t just our bikes) we were enraptured by many of the varied landscapes we past through and how much the country has designed their road ways to not just accommodate but prioritize bicycles. Cars need to give cyclists 5 feet (1.5 meters) of room EVEN OF THEY ARE PEDALING SIDE BY SIDE! It feels so safe. And everybody seems to ride; for much of the day there seemed to be more cyclists than cars.
Over the last two days we have cycled 120 miles from Grenada to Almeria, stopping for the night in the small coastal village of Calahonda. We climbed up and over mountains skirting the snowy edge of the Sierra Nevadas, the Alpujarras, and then down to the coast with its tall, rocky promontories and sweeping views. Up and down we rose and fell, from sea level to cliff top, again and again. We ate the juiciest and sweetest oranges that I have ever tasted, which we found fallen from a tree on the roadside. Our butts became sore and then very sore. We were starving, we were sweating, we were exhausted and it all the while we felt like the luckiest people in the world.
Now we sit in a cafe waiting for an overnight ferry that leaves at midnight to take us across the Mediterranean to Melilla, a Spanish enclave in Morocco. From here on out we are making it up as we go along. I am excited and, truthfully, nervous. I will be the “other” there, in a way that I don’t think I ever have before and it is something that many others feel all the time.
Last night, the noise in the bar around me bubbled up, crescendoing and falling like the all waves of humanity that have come before and then tumbling down in never ending murmurs of agreement and disapproval. I have no idea what they were saying, but it didn’t matter. All stories are the same in the end.
Sounds like you’re managing well on the rental bikes! Hope it goes well as the next adventure occurs in Morocco! Enjoy!!
Really enjoyed your post today!
I’m wondering how good your Spanish skills are. I know how good your charm is.
Leah, your stories are a balm. Keep ’em coming.
As usual, I am in awe of you and your temerity.
Please do not feel selfish! Doing something you love is not in and of itself a selfish act. I’d love to know what that commenter is doing. You foregoing the trip would not change the fact that other people are suffering.
Enjoy yourself, expand yourself – keep being you. Love you.
We humans were all roaming hunter-gatherers at one time in our history. But Jesus said it best,” Let him who is without sin (human faults) cast the first stone.”
The current trouble with this country is that it’s too full of narcissists. They love themselves so much they lack any form of introspection, and only look at others to find folly, or faults, believing these human traits couldn’t possibly exist in them selves! I met you and your son several years back while Camp hosting near West Yellowstone when you were on your Seattle to the East Coast bicycle trip. All of my trips to Europe included bicycling. The first journey was from Amsterdam to Athens, through Yugoslavia in 1970. It’s the best way to see a country, and its people. I was in Spain and Morocco in 1973. Don’t miss Casablanca and Marrakech. From Marrakech you can get a good view of the Sahara Desert and the Atlas Mountains.
Safe Journeys -always!
Ignore the negative comments from naysayers.
Your writings are fun, insightful, and encouraging.
At times I feel I am reading something out of National Geographic.
You go girl!
Narcissism? Sorry, whomever that was. It’s not your style. More likely, a projection of what’s going on for them on to you…I’d say, continue to focus on those sweet oranges, on the kindness of strangers, and on the good energy you tend to bring out in others.
Brush off the comments that don’t ring true. As Helen Keller said “Life is either an adventure or nothing”. You are a person with great awareness of the ills of the world. Traveling gives us the humility to be a total human. Keep your adventure going.
The world needs people like you to visit it, immerse yourself, and make connections. I am grateful for your adventurous spirit that speaks for the intentions for humanity that I share with you.
Your stories, observations and insights are a gift. Please keep them coming!
So glad you are on your way albeit on clunkers but wow 120 miles! Keep up the good work and keep going!
I love reading about your adventures.
You’re so descriptive and detailed you make it so we can almost feel like we’re there with you. Be safe and keep going.
Sending you love and prayers.
Stay safe. Looking forward to hearing more about your journey.
Thank you for all your descriptions of travel. You are amazing! I am so glad that Twain is with you for now. Safe travels. Enjoy, rooting for you always! Love, Barbara
Leah, I hope you keep traveling, exploring, and telling your stories! Strange to me that someone would need to comment on your blog and call you selfish. My guess is there was some jealousy there about all of the amazing adventures you are having. As I sit on my sofa in the warmth and comfort of my house and read your tales, I feel as if I am on your journey with you, except I have plenty of food, water, and no sore butt!
One of my favorites…
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
Marianne Williamson