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Sept 25, 2012
Juli: (Sevilla to Merida : 216.9 km. (This does not
count extra km walked while we were lost).
Each day, at dinner, as we toast our new town, I ask Stacy, 'where are we again?' It is a joke now. Like Forest Gump it hardly matters where we are, we just get up each morning and walk until we arrive at our chosen stopping point.
My back was turned but I could smell him as he entered the room. The squeaking of the bed above me and Stacy's eyes peering down at me , confirmed that I was right.
The night we spent in Villafranca as we discussed our good fortune of having a room to ourselves in the albergue El Carmen, the missing F from Austria arrived and settled into the bed above mine.
Instantly the most horrible stench seemed to permeate every inch of the room. F believes that socks left unwashed will prevent blisters. But the offense to the olfactory senses is more than that...a unique 'fragrance' attained by the refusal to wash at all, compounded by days in the blistering sun.
'Read this' he said to me, handing me a book of short stories, proudly adding 'this is the level of my English!' D. H. Lawrence's 'The Rocking Horse'. "Tell me this is not true?" he demands. After reading the story I tell him the rocking horse is just to illustrate 'man's' search for 'more' without understanding the 'price' that is sometimes extracted in his quest. I suggest he read John Steinbeck's "The Pearl". But something was off (beyond the smell). My money was safe, my passport secure, but I felt a sudden need to hide my underwear that had been drying on the window sill.
The next day was a walk through vineyards as far as one could see… 30 km of vineyards. Chatting with the gals from South Africa I hear stories of sexually explicit suggestions made by F to each of the other women and I feel glad that I have been spared. We arrived in Torremejia exhausted, with shin splints and lack of energy to take another step.
We were freshly showered and resting when F arrived. I had closed our door, hoping to hide, but our noses alerted us before our eyes confirmed..."There you are!" There was nothing to do but take Tylenol for the pain in my legs and a sleeping pill to make the morning come fast.
The problem with leaving so early is that it is dark...too dark to see the yellow arrows that dot our path all too infrequently. But then we saw Alberto and Fabricio our new Italian friends, and we knew we were on the right path. We learned they started from Sevilla 3 days later than us. Perhaps they missed the scorching sun that plagued our first few days? For whatever reason, they are still full of energy and marched quickly ahead of us to Merida.
Merida, an ancient city, founded by the Romans, conquered by the Moors, and then won back by the Christians.
After crossing a bridge that had it's first significant renovation in 754AD, we straggled in to the albergue. "There you are" the Italian's laughed as we entered the dorm room lined with bunk beds.
Later, as I left the albergue to meet up with Stacy, F was sitting in a chair by the door.
"There you are" F says with a smile.
Don't tell F, but we are considering taking a bus tomorrow...
Each day, at dinner, as we toast our new town, I ask Stacy, 'where are we again?' It is a joke now. Like Forest Gump it hardly matters where we are, we just get up each morning and walk until we arrive at our chosen stopping point.
My back was turned but I could smell him as he entered the room. The squeaking of the bed above me and Stacy's eyes peering down at me , confirmed that I was right.
The night we spent in Villafranca as we discussed our good fortune of having a room to ourselves in the albergue El Carmen, the missing F from Austria arrived and settled into the bed above mine.
Instantly the most horrible stench seemed to permeate every inch of the room. F believes that socks left unwashed will prevent blisters. But the offense to the olfactory senses is more than that...a unique 'fragrance' attained by the refusal to wash at all, compounded by days in the blistering sun.
'Read this' he said to me, handing me a book of short stories, proudly adding 'this is the level of my English!' D. H. Lawrence's 'The Rocking Horse'. "Tell me this is not true?" he demands. After reading the story I tell him the rocking horse is just to illustrate 'man's' search for 'more' without understanding the 'price' that is sometimes extracted in his quest. I suggest he read John Steinbeck's "The Pearl". But something was off (beyond the smell). My money was safe, my passport secure, but I felt a sudden need to hide my underwear that had been drying on the window sill.
The next day was a walk through vineyards as far as one could see… 30 km of vineyards. Chatting with the gals from South Africa I hear stories of sexually explicit suggestions made by F to each of the other women and I feel glad that I have been spared. We arrived in Torremejia exhausted, with shin splints and lack of energy to take another step.
We were freshly showered and resting when F arrived. I had closed our door, hoping to hide, but our noses alerted us before our eyes confirmed..."There you are!" There was nothing to do but take Tylenol for the pain in my legs and a sleeping pill to make the morning come fast.
The problem with leaving so early is that it is dark...too dark to see the yellow arrows that dot our path all too infrequently. But then we saw Alberto and Fabricio our new Italian friends, and we knew we were on the right path. We learned they started from Sevilla 3 days later than us. Perhaps they missed the scorching sun that plagued our first few days? For whatever reason, they are still full of energy and marched quickly ahead of us to Merida.
Merida, an ancient city, founded by the Romans, conquered by the Moors, and then won back by the Christians.
After crossing a bridge that had it's first significant renovation in 754AD, we straggled in to the albergue. "There you are" the Italian's laughed as we entered the dorm room lined with bunk beds.
Later, as I left the albergue to meet up with Stacy, F was sitting in a chair by the door.
"There you are" F says with a smile.
Don't tell F, but we are considering taking a bus tomorrow...
Wed, 26 Sep 2012 19:46:12
Stacy: Cáceres, Spain. Juli and I took a day off of 'trekking' today and hopped on the bus to Cáceres, checked into a lovely hotel, strolled through the cobblestone streets of the historic city center, stopped off for some wine and tapas, and are now enjoying one of my favorite Spanish traditions, the late afternoon siesta.
Though thoroughly enjoying the day off, I'm coming to really love the simplicity of peregrino life. Wake up, walk, arrive in a small village, shower, wash clothes in the sink, eat, sleep. Then wake up and do it all again. Starting to leave my phone off for days at a time. Decided being 'out of touch' is a luxury I can't get away with most of the time and it feels fabulous. Did another large purge of things from my heavy pack that I don't need. Muscles are tightening and toning. Feeling stronger inside and out. Enjoying sleeping in the albergues and have thrown out the eye patch and ear plugs I thought I would need. Actually don't mind the hum of snoring...the rustling of sleeping bags...and waking to every one of all ages strolling about in their underwear is quite funny really… and becoming strangely normal.
Though shin splints were the main reason the day off, I feel quite lucky when I see some of the bleeding, infected blisters on the feet of a few of my fellow peregrinos. Those boots I never bothered to break in have faired me well. No blisters so far. Hot pink toenail polish still fairly in tact. And it feels difficult to complain of sore legs when the cause was a 31-kilometer hike the other day through the most beautiful vineyards that went on as far as the eye could see. Snacking on grapes right from the vine all day long. And watching the Spanish farmers climbing in and out of the large metal containers pulled behind a tractor, used for collecting grapes.
Anyway. Time to eat again. I think we're going to head back to the same restaurant we stumbled upon for lunch today. La Taparía. One of the tapas we tried was basically a giant veal meatball, breaded and deep-fried and drizzled with a rich, wine infused gravy. Might not sound good but trust me, it was heaven. And of course we washed it down with a few glasses of afternoon wine...from the region we're currently in, Ribera del Guardiana. If you haven't tried wine from this region of Spain, from the province of Extremadura, do. It's the new love of my life... And it's time to go drink some more of it. Cheers.
Stacy: Cáceres, Spain. Juli and I took a day off of 'trekking' today and hopped on the bus to Cáceres, checked into a lovely hotel, strolled through the cobblestone streets of the historic city center, stopped off for some wine and tapas, and are now enjoying one of my favorite Spanish traditions, the late afternoon siesta.
Though thoroughly enjoying the day off, I'm coming to really love the simplicity of peregrino life. Wake up, walk, arrive in a small village, shower, wash clothes in the sink, eat, sleep. Then wake up and do it all again. Starting to leave my phone off for days at a time. Decided being 'out of touch' is a luxury I can't get away with most of the time and it feels fabulous. Did another large purge of things from my heavy pack that I don't need. Muscles are tightening and toning. Feeling stronger inside and out. Enjoying sleeping in the albergues and have thrown out the eye patch and ear plugs I thought I would need. Actually don't mind the hum of snoring...the rustling of sleeping bags...and waking to every one of all ages strolling about in their underwear is quite funny really… and becoming strangely normal.
Though shin splints were the main reason the day off, I feel quite lucky when I see some of the bleeding, infected blisters on the feet of a few of my fellow peregrinos. Those boots I never bothered to break in have faired me well. No blisters so far. Hot pink toenail polish still fairly in tact. And it feels difficult to complain of sore legs when the cause was a 31-kilometer hike the other day through the most beautiful vineyards that went on as far as the eye could see. Snacking on grapes right from the vine all day long. And watching the Spanish farmers climbing in and out of the large metal containers pulled behind a tractor, used for collecting grapes.
Anyway. Time to eat again. I think we're going to head back to the same restaurant we stumbled upon for lunch today. La Taparía. One of the tapas we tried was basically a giant veal meatball, breaded and deep-fried and drizzled with a rich, wine infused gravy. Might not sound good but trust me, it was heaven. And of course we washed it down with a few glasses of afternoon wine...from the region we're currently in, Ribera del Guardiana. If you haven't tried wine from this region of Spain, from the province of Extremadura, do. It's the new love of my life... And it's time to go drink some more of it. Cheers.
It's now Oct 2 where I am in Nepal. Your last post was Sep 28 - hope there is an update soon and F of the sticky socks has not gotten you!
ReplyDeleteWhoops! That should be "stinky" socks - not s-t-i-c-k-y socks - although I suppose they could be that too considering how long it is since he showered!
ReplyDeleteI was had to spend the night in a very small room with 4 Porters, and Ramesh. As a matter of group survival, all the boots and all the socks spent the night outside the door. Must warn you.....that's the only downside to polypropylene sock liners - they get a little pungent even on my dainty size 8's!