While the searing inland heat continued to top 40C we reluctantly jumped a train to the slightly cooler coastal town of Cadiz (saving us a 2 day ride) then continued along the littoral to Zahara de los Atunes; taking a day out of the saddle to enjoy the beach and refresh for the coming week. Our early morning deaprture from Zahara was stunning! The rising sun glowed upon the fields of sunflowers and the nearby mountains; which unbeknown to us were covered in wind farms, and for good reason ... sods laws directing the gusts at us rather than behind us. Passing through the wind-surfing mecca of Tarifa (wonder why?) we say goodbye to the Atlantic and Hola to the Mediterranean. The desire to plunge into the esteemed waters soon vanish when we recieve an unwelcomed sand-blasting, so we return to the mountains gradually overtaking the whirring wind generators (having to dismount at one point as it was impossible to balance) until we reach Gibraltar's Spainish neighbour La Linea, and thankfully our first grassy tent pitch since France. A quick flash of the passports (exteriors only) and we are back in the UK for the afternoon, albeit it feeling very artificial - guess sampling a warm pint in 30+C temperatures might have something to do with it? Continuing eastwards to Puerto Banis we marvelled at the colossal amount of money moored in the marina, a far cry more alluring than neighbouring Marbella - curious as to what the fuss is all over for this reputed 'glitzy' resort, cerainly not it's beach. Advancing into the mountains beyond Malaga we stopped to admire the spectacular coastal heights we had traversed. Here is where we encountered a short, stout cyclist sweating his way up the inline, halting to introduce himself "Carlos, 51 years old, 2 wives, 5 children, 20 kilometres, enough already!" He explained that he was a ski instructor and the hill climbs kept his legs in tip-top shape, as well as giving us some scrambled directions on a route that would avoid the busy main road ... needless to say we ended up at the lower end of a dead-end mountain road! The unplanned detour was worth the extra effort as it led us to a secluded and exclusive marina. Backtracking our way up the gradient we rejoined the hilly route to Motril where we experienced a cracking finish - literally - with one of our tent poles snapping ... b*****! Distance to date: 5065klms