Juli: I felt as though I was in Africa. The
rolling hills as far as the eye could see, covered in dry, golden grass, dotted
with green, sprawling trees, their branches stretched out as though reaching
for any trace of water. My imagination was running away with me, or so I
thought, until Janine and Fransa sat with us that night at dinner and Janine
said "if a giraffe had walked out from the trees I would have been sure I
was at home in South Africa rather than in Spain."
Though we walk an average of 23 km a day the terrain varies greatly in appearance. Outside Monesterio we walked past Iberico pig farms that reminded me of the English country farms, fenced with high, dry pack stone walls. 'Happy as a pig' must come from Iberican pigs by the way. They live in beautiful country side, shaded by acorn trees. Stacy and I were picking which enclosures we would be quite content to live in, even if it meant being with a few pigs.
We've also walked through stretches that seemed like the west coast of British Columbia and several kilometers of land that could quite easily have been the rolling (and late summer dry and golden) hills of southern Alberta.
The past 2 days has been mainly vineyards and olive groves. Much of the road has been an old roman road used to ferry marble and quartz to important settlements in times past. A road laid with temptation for a recovering rock-aholic, I reminded myself how foolish to fill my pack with rocks (no matter how pretty) when, to lighten my load further, I had left my pants and hair brush, in Monesterio.
Though we ache as we finally rest at night our bodies are becoming used to rising early and walking. Miraculous how quickly every muscle seems to recover.
A few people we've met have not fared so well. M from France had a blister by the 2nd day that has spread over the back of her heel making it angry, raw and infected. S from Korea thought this route was a 'tourist route' and brought heavy camera equipment to record her trip. The bottom of her feet are covered with blisters and she walks with slow, careful steps because of the pain. Both M and S have taken the bus to Merida today and hope to return walking after a few days of recovery. And F from Austria with his fantastic (true?) stories of survival has seemingly disappeared. (Though we don't walk together there is a support system between pilgrims as we cross paths at albergues, at meals and along the road).
Others we have met return home soon and will come back next year to continue walking. It is a luxury (or insanity?) to be able to take so much time away from 'regular life' and walk this path in one go.
I'm getting used to sleeping in dorm rooms, though it is nice to have a room to ourselves tonight. A clean, simple albergue in Villafranca. Great deal at 12 euros, including breakfast (likely toastada, jus and cafe con leche...toast, juice, and coffee with milk).
There are experiences I hope to repeat...a meal of Iberico ham ('died and gone to heaven' food), swimming with a turtle (mostly the turtle tried to swim as far from me as possible while I tried to swim as far from him as possible) and eating grapes freshly picked from the vine (a gift from the farmer).
... And then there was the time we were sprayed with manure.
Though we walk an average of 23 km a day the terrain varies greatly in appearance. Outside Monesterio we walked past Iberico pig farms that reminded me of the English country farms, fenced with high, dry pack stone walls. 'Happy as a pig' must come from Iberican pigs by the way. They live in beautiful country side, shaded by acorn trees. Stacy and I were picking which enclosures we would be quite content to live in, even if it meant being with a few pigs.
We've also walked through stretches that seemed like the west coast of British Columbia and several kilometers of land that could quite easily have been the rolling (and late summer dry and golden) hills of southern Alberta.
The past 2 days has been mainly vineyards and olive groves. Much of the road has been an old roman road used to ferry marble and quartz to important settlements in times past. A road laid with temptation for a recovering rock-aholic, I reminded myself how foolish to fill my pack with rocks (no matter how pretty) when, to lighten my load further, I had left my pants and hair brush, in Monesterio.
Though we ache as we finally rest at night our bodies are becoming used to rising early and walking. Miraculous how quickly every muscle seems to recover.
A few people we've met have not fared so well. M from France had a blister by the 2nd day that has spread over the back of her heel making it angry, raw and infected. S from Korea thought this route was a 'tourist route' and brought heavy camera equipment to record her trip. The bottom of her feet are covered with blisters and she walks with slow, careful steps because of the pain. Both M and S have taken the bus to Merida today and hope to return walking after a few days of recovery. And F from Austria with his fantastic (true?) stories of survival has seemingly disappeared. (Though we don't walk together there is a support system between pilgrims as we cross paths at albergues, at meals and along the road).
Others we have met return home soon and will come back next year to continue walking. It is a luxury (or insanity?) to be able to take so much time away from 'regular life' and walk this path in one go.
I'm getting used to sleeping in dorm rooms, though it is nice to have a room to ourselves tonight. A clean, simple albergue in Villafranca. Great deal at 12 euros, including breakfast (likely toastada, jus and cafe con leche...toast, juice, and coffee with milk).
There are experiences I hope to repeat...a meal of Iberico ham ('died and gone to heaven' food), swimming with a turtle (mostly the turtle tried to swim as far from me as possible while I tried to swim as far from him as possible) and eating grapes freshly picked from the vine (a gift from the farmer).
... And then there was the time we were sprayed with manure.
