Two large rivers flow trough the Extremadura: the Rio Tajo and the Rio Guadiana. It is said that north of the Tajo the land is fertile, between both rivers the land is dry and south of the Guadiana nothing wants to grow at all. It is no surprise that most Conquistadores that conquered South America came from this Spanish region. Latin American cities can be visited in Extremadura: Medellin, Trujillo, Guadalupe. Some villages a statue was erected to honour their local hero of the new world. Before the Conquistadores left the Moors reigned. Large castles were built at strategic locations. The later served the Christians to keep the Moors at safe distance. Previous to the Moors Lusitania - Extremadura and Portugal - was a Roman province with Mérida being capital.

The Parque Natural de Monfraguë is disappointing. The Rio Tajo lies dead calm in its bed because of the nearby hydropower dam. From a beautiful bridge from the 15th century only the top half metre can be seen. The impressive arches we saw on pictures are hidden. Close to the main peak we run across our fellow campers. They stare at the top with massive binoculars to see the kings-eagle that lives here. Obviously it is its time to take a nap. We swiftly ride the Extremadurian curves and via the C524 we reach Trujillo, through the CC800 and N630 we arrive in Mérida. Somewhere along the road I nearly hit an enormous bird of prey that is eating from a snake of two metres length that was run over by a car. There are lots of run over snakes on these roads. The asphalt is comfortable warm and seems a good place to take a nap... A few kilometres from Mérida we put up our tent and cook a delicious meal.

The next day - is seems to be Wednesday the 28 of May, but this doesn't impress us - we visit the city of Mérida. This used to be Roman, Moor and now Extremadurian capital city. We visit the well preserved Roman amphitheatre and walk though the old parts of the city. The covered marketplace and narrow alleys originate from the Moors. Many shops have advertisements made of colourful glazed tiles.

Through Medellin, Villanueva, Castuera and Cabeza del Buey we ride through La Serena. This such a beautiful country! Every now and then we stop to enjoy the scenery. Such a quiet spot... The only things you hear are a few birds and a little river in the distance. You can hear the water flow at 500 metre. We cross the Rio Zújar and enter Andalucia. We already can see the stronghold of Belálcazar that combines Moor and Christian architecture and seems to shelter sheep in our days. The village of Belálcazar (Alcazar means stronghold or castle) is not very special.

In Fuente Obejuna we search for the C421 to Alanis. At siesta time we ride trough this beautiful city but signs for Alanis seem to be absent. We ask a person in the street. He notices that we only speak very little Spanish and asks politely if we can speak French. Indeed we can - unfortunately he can not. Our road map is is taken to the nearest cafe and about six men appear. The landlord tells us that the road to Alanis is in very very bad shape. Many curves, worn out road surface, malo, malo. We should take an other route. Besides who on earth wants to go to Alanis... One of the men has taste for adventure and understand what we are looking for on our allroad bikes. In spite of their advice we take the C421 and with no regret! For sixty five kilometres the bad and curvy road bends trough the Sierra Morena. Maximum speed to ride safe is 30 to 40kmh. Traffic signs and crash barriers are totally absent in the unsurveyable bends. In return we get goat dung, stones on the road and a magnificent view. Unfortunately we can't find a suitable spot to camp in the wild. This really is a place to stay forever...

Next day we leave from Constantina. After 12 kilometres we bend left to La Quintera and the SE158: dirt road! At first we need to adapt to these circumstances: stones as large as a fist, deep ridges and intermediates with flour like sand. Karin hates riding in the dust of my motorbike and overtakes. Together we travel at reasonable great speed trough the bush. Suddenly we see a sign that the road becomes narrower... This is a big surprise, but a some later we ride a narrow ridge along a very deep abyss. The best part of the track off course is at the side closest to the abyss. After 20 kilometres we reach civilisation. In La Puebla de los Infantes we enjoy our café and agua. A picador passes a few times on his horse. We beat the dust off our clothes and leave for Peñaflor and enter the valley of the Rio Guadalquivir to Cordoba. On the left the Morena, to the right the plains that end in the Costa del Sol. Cordoba prepares for some fiesta: lots of coaches and flamenco dresses. In a park we enjoy the shade of the trees and some bocadillo con queso. We make our camp at Andújar. Already at the motorway we saw signs that would guide us to the camping ground. We follow the signs that take us deeper into the centre of the city. Just trough a small alley we reach the camping ground - a little oasis behind all houses and rush. The owner invites us to pick as many plums as we like. Just take them from the sunny side of the trees, those taste best!

Andújar, Jaén, Sierra de Mágina. Dark clouds overtake us and it starts to rain. For three quarts of an hour we wait for the rain to pass. In front of our shelter lots of water and sand flow on the streets. As we ride in the direction of Jódar we see hailstones and tree leaves that are cut off during the hailstorm. The road is covered with mud.

After we passed three mud flows we come to a crash barrier lying across the road. This spot also suffered from the hailstorm... Our road ends right here. The mass of water washed the asphalt and made a deep gully trough witch the water goes down with thundering noise. We follow an 4x4 car that takes a small road. On our motorbikes we follow the path the flow of water made. All stones and debris lies next to it. Small cars are almost unable to drive further. Avoiding the head-large pieces of rock we reach the main route. We ride in the direction of Cazorla. We planned to camp in the mountains at El Chorro, but the bad weather let us decide different. In the Camino San Isicio we find a beautiful farm-camping ground. The owner is Dutch and built this up in the past 16 years. As the result of ecological gardening this slope is very fertile and lots of different birds come to this spot. To earn a good living they keep bees for honey in the nearby mountains. We decide to stay here for a couple of days.

The weather is still not very Spanish. It continues to rain and laundered stuff is after 24 hours still as wet as it came directly from the tub... The hailstorm we met in the Sierras before also went past here and demolished the tent of two Dutch girls. We eat under a shelter. We could stay in the bee chamber but we are stalwart and sleep in our tent. Despite of the weather this is a good place to rest a few days. Everyone is very friendly and the scenery is abundantly green because of the rain. We take a beautiful walk through the mountains that lie just behind us. The path takes us on a Roman road that is still recognisable. The exact place that is called El Chorro we can not find (see Tourenfahrer 8/1995). We think it is a large house in the mountains. At the other side of the mountain ridge we look into a deep abyss where crows and vultures glide in the air.
Back on our camp we meet Claudia and Mike. They went in three days from Nürnberg to Cazorla on a single Yamaha TT600 with pack for three weeks... In the afternoon we ride our Funduros through the Sierra de Cazorla where the Rio Guadalquivir has its spring. Jo the Dutchman who owns the camping ground pointed out a magnificent trip at 1200 metres altitude. Dense forest and rough rocks change our scenery every time. The sierras lie at some distance of each other and in between lie olive orchards. High in the mountains we have a clear view at the other sierras. The Sierra de Mágina at about 30 km to the west is covered with dark clouds. The Sierra Nevada can be seen as a long chain of mountains in the south. At Tranco we take the J704 back to Cazorla. This is the perfect road to speed up and let our Funduros work. The view over the hydropower lake (Embalse de Tranco) is magnificent and every now and then we stop to enjoy the surroundings, the silence and the bright colours.

We ride through the Sierra de Cazorla and the Sierra de Alcaraz towards Albacete. At Tinajeros we leave the high altitude plain and enter a undulated country some 40 metres below. At the ridge we can look far in the distance. The plain below is yellow coloured from the grain with lonely 'Inselberge' now and then. This is the place of Don Quixote: Castilia - La Mancha. The windmills are absent here. At Valdeganga we head for Alcalá de Júcar. The Rio Júcar made a 20 metres deep canyon in the lime soil. The bottom of the canyon we enter a dream. The houses to our left are cut in the face of the canyon wall. The built facade in front is three to four metres deep. To our right there are gardens with fruit and vegetables and the river. The dimmed light completes the fairy tale but makes impossible to take photos. People enjoy the evening on their verandas and our Funduros bang over the deserted asphalt. Alcalá comes into sight. The canyon is much deeper here and its castle is high above us. In the wall of the canyon perhaps 25 metres above our heads little windows can be seen. At some places we count at least 5 stories.

We ride towards Teruel trough the N322 and N330. The bad weather keeps up with us and we constantly ride in heavy rain. My 'breathing' jacket starts to breathe water also and because of that I wear some kind of wetsuit. The thin layer of water between my skin and my clothes isn't warm at all. The last part of the N330 is worn out completely. Water, mud, stones and other debris flows over the road. Because of bad weather we completely miss the scenery. The Rio Turia carries lots of water and a little river out of the hills joins over our road. After quick assessment we ride fast through the water. During a short break we meet two German brothers. One of them rides a Triumph Tiger the other a brand new T953. In spite of his rainsuit and rubber boots his feet are wet: the rain enters at his neck to flow down to his feet... In Teruel we rent a drying room with showers and television. All of Spain suffers from continuous rainfall and the Sierra Nevada has fresh snow where people are skiing!

More and more we leave the wonderful slowness of Spain. Surroundings still are very beautiful but not as spectacular as they used to be. Thrills in this part rather come from curvy asphalt and fast heartbeat. Near Lérida we notice the first large piggeries. Poor animals. The best Spanish jamón comes from the sierras in Andalucia and Extremadura where the pigs live and play under the trees. Through Perpignan and Narbonne we rest for a day in Cébazan.

Tourists haven't come yet. Many gas stations in the French Cevennes are closed - Spain has a better fuel supply. Near the river Tarn the invasion by Dutch campers already has begun. On the camping ground in Florac Dutch is spoken almost everywhere.
In only a few days we ride through Usson-en-Forez, Nevers and Bar-le-Duc to Stavelot in the Belgian Ardennes. For the last time we put up our tent at the banks of the Eau Rouge and the Amblève. The next day we park our Funduros in our garage after 6523 wonderful kilometres...