Just a little water falling out of they sky turned my fairly short trip to Lanzarote into three days.  After spending hours on the runway and many more hours in long lines, I finally gave in and tried to make the best of it.  London-Heathrow came into play as my connections were all shuffled around.  I spent some quality time there shopping and enjoying a full English breakfast.  Then, it was finally off to Madrid, only to arrive too late for any flights departing for Lanzarote.  At this point I was melting, but a glimmer of joy appeared as I realized I would be spending the night not too far from one restaurant which I have been dying to try, Santceloni.

After dropping off my bag at the hotel I headed into town and was waiting at Santceloni’s front door for them to open up at 9PM.  I sat down to one of the best meals of my life.  Several “compliments of the chef’s” dishes accompanied squid to start, then some lamb to finish.  Then the desserts came.  By the end I lost count of all the different dishes.  The only thing missing was my wife, or any company for that matter.  It is always strange dining out alone, but with as much time as I spend on the road I have gotten use to it.  And I just couldn’t pass up a chance to try Santceloni.

The next morning, three days into my travels, I finally boarded the plane for Lanzarote.  The island itself isn’t much too look at.  Sure it’s always beautiful and there are plenty of beaches, but there are no trees whatsoever, and the terrain is desert-like.  The next week will fly by regardless of where we are.  The riders and staff of Columbia-HTC will be busy with one meeting after another, while cramming in as much riding as we can.