The morning special

It's currently not even 3:00 pm yet, and my food count today is already through the roof. So far, I have eaten:
2 eggs, 1/2 a baguette with jam (breakfast)
1 Nutella and honey sandwich, 1/2 peanut butter sandwich (on the bike)
1 large unidentified pastry (post-ride)
1 entire mushroom pizza, meant for two (lunch)
1 tuna bocadillo (lunch number 2)

As a side note, for you unfortunate Americans still eating sandwiches between two pieces of sliced bread, a bocadillo is the Spanish version of a sandwich, made on a baguette and usually with some form of ham, tuna, or a tortilla. We could learn a thing or two from them about bread selection.

Anyway, the reason for the absurd amount of food I have torn into today is this morning's ride. A few weeks ago, I met Ismael, a cyclist from a town nearby whom I saw on a ride one day and decided to approach and ask if I could come alone. To make a long story short, I would say we have become friends very quickly and have ridden together often. This morning, I joined Ismael and some of his friends on a great ride. It would not have been too hunger-inducing, despite the extremely fast pace for November thanks to one or two very eager beavers, but the 45 minutes of riding pre- and post-route, both of which included 5-6km of climbing, tacked on enough to put me deep in the hunger cave. Fortunately, there is lots of daylight left for me to dig myself out of that cave, fork and knife in hand.

And that is one of the beauties of getting out and riding in the morning: you can ride 4+ hours and still actually have a day. Rather than leaving at 10 or 11 and not getting home until well into the afternoon, I was home by 12:30, a quality morning in the saddle already in my legs. You know that saying, "Why do today what can be put off for tomorrow?" Well, I couldn't disagree more.

Finally, I have to say how lucky I am to have met Ismael, as well as all the other riders I have befriended here. Walking around the city, going to museums, and traveling to other European destinations are all ways to explore a new place while abroad, and there is nothing wrong with any of them. But for me, there is no better way to see a place than to spend time with the people who live there and know it best. And perched atop a bicycle, it all goes by at just the right speed. Excuse me for butchering this, but a friend of mine once said to me, "A bicycle is the perfect way to see the world. By foot, you go too slowly to see enough. In a car, it goes by too quickly to see anything at all. On a bike, everything is just right." Now that I can agree with.