Sausages, cyclists and the mountain road to Xativa

I am a huge fan of the Renfe Railway System of Andalucia. Terrific for traveling north to south, but unfortunately more difficult cross country east to west.  So we hired a car.

As we started our ascent up the mountain range north of Alicante we realised that this could be a lonely adventure.  We later realised one car an hour was considered busy.

Obviously the higher you climb the less bars you find, so seeing a busy bar on the outskirts of a village full of workmen and builders having their second breakfast of the day (this is normally around 10.00 a.m.).  We decided this might be our last chance and stopped to join them.

Immediately it became apparent that this was the bar that all the cyclists doing the mountain roads stop at and also it seemed that a cold beer and sausage bap was obligatory.  I viewed the big wood burning oven in the restaurant preparing for menu del dia and although too early really decided the rustic sausages smelt fabulous.   No english was spoken but a lot of facial expressions and pointing worked its magic.  We had already had coffee and pastries much earlier and lunch planned for later, so I tactfully asked if we could have the sausages without the pan i.e. no bread.   This got lost in translation somewhere.  We were seated in the shade and made to feel welcome.

A continuous stream of cyclists passed, some stopping some returning.  I for once felt slightly overdressed as was not wearing either builders overalls or cyclists lycra.  Also my spanish phrasebook did not include expressions to wish the cyclists a good next stage as they left and the words for friendly abuse when some cycled passed without stopping!  This seems a regional custom.

The silver salver arrived not a sausage each, but a selection of various mountain sausages cooked over a wood stove, sliced and presented as if we were race officials eating in the stewards' tent.  I cannot tell you how happy this made me feel!