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Ask any bird about migration, and they all say the same thing:  “seasonal movement starts months before it’s time to go. You have to prepare. Most importantly, you have to fatten.”

-Hence the reason we’ve eaten so much chocolate lately.

October is a busy time in European skies: spear-headed formations honk in from the north, swallows depart south, and we too, prepare for our annual voyage to warmer climes, though less on the wing and considerably more asphalt dependent.

It was a toss up this year as to where we would roam during our five months away.

For certain it would involve bikes, panniers, and hopefully fair weather. However the exact location remained, until mid-year, elusive.

Preliminary discussions centred around Sri Lanka, then South America, but eventually Southern Europe emerged as the preferred destination, and focus shifted towards a migratory passage south.

Ideally our preparedness would have been a detailed, thought out affair. Complete with extensive pre-purchase gear reviews, test analysis, expert opinions, and comprehensive route descriptions.

Only, that’s not the way we journey.

Most preparation occurred during an evening with two of our favourite life coaches: Mr. Spanish Wine, and Mrs. Ebay; both of whom convinced us that a late night internet shopping sesh was all we needed to satisfy even the most ardent of preparation plans….

By the next day, we had become the slightly befuddled and marginally hungover owners of:

  • 2 new tandems,
  • 8 waterproof panniers,
  • 1 over-sized family tent; resulting in the additional purchase of an ‘over-sized items go here’ bike trailer,
  • and 1 large folding map of Spain’s Iberian Peninsula.

But that was all back in June, when the reverie of cycling ‘a la Mediterranean’ remained six months away – or from our kids’ perspective: forever.

Yet seasons roll by, and with the migration period coming to an end we’d better get cracking -There’s only time for one last purge of chocolate, bolus of carbs, honing of wandering instincts, and practice of arrival honks.

Because Andalucia, here we come..

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