Following one of the Pilgrimage routes to Santiago de Compostela
Via la Plata - Guillena to Castilblanco de los arroyo 17k
Castilblanco to Almaden de la Plata 30k
Castilblanco to Almaden de la Plata 30k
My snoring isn't going down well, so I make a plan to do something about it before someone throttles me in my sleep. Already met pilgrims from Spain, The U.S. and the ubiquitous Germans who make up maybe 50% or more of the total, for reasons I won't go into here (to do with books everyone seems to have read there). Catholic Countries are of course the home of many of the 'peregrinos' from other nations. Very few Brits around which is actually a good thing because it's a nice surprise when you find one instead of an embarrassment as it can be when you come across one of your countrymen talking very loudly in the hope that they will be understood if you're on holiday. I'm certainly not saying my Spanish is brilliant because it definitely isn't, but if you don't try, you don't learn as quickly if at all and you also get less help from the locals (because they're being awkward or just can't be bothered speaking another language in their own country and who can blame them?)
The walk is beautiful, Astrid and I spend the day talking and I notice many little similarities between us, stubbornness, frustration at the early risers and noisy get ready-ers, a huge love of Chocolate and other things associated with having a sweet tooth. My walking sticks are working wonders, allowing me to take some of the weight through my arms and apart from the two big sore patches that are only likely to turn into blisters on my feet everything is faring much better than the first few days of the walk last year, which was all down hill and resulted in tendonitis in both shins and massive amounts of pain in both knees. You can't expect this kind of endeavour to be entirely pain free but there are many things that you can do to p
repare that will lessen it, like training walks with a loaded backpack (I didn't do that much of course, being me, but my job before leaving involved being on my feet for 9 hours a day). Arriving at Castilblanco de Los Arroyo I made a beeline for the first bar before going to the Albergue across the road and had a beer, which is something I picked up from my friend Jess from Australia last year ;-) Order a beer in Spain and you get a small one for a Euro but you DO get a saucer of f
ree food. Which is the main reason for my beer habit, honest... And a Football match on, I love Spain xNotable Pilgrims are the three older Americans who got up way too early this morning and then proceeded to noisily get ready for ages not leaving until after everyone else, Megan from the Rockies?, James the Psychiatric Nurse from Norwich (who Astrid immediately named our new 'Stephen from Kentucky', as he had the same great vibe as our friend from last year). But most of all the guy we met last night whose name is Jochen, he's slightly overweight (I'm being kind to his belly) smokes like a train and seems to be the kind of guy you want to avoid at first but soon
grow to love, always laughing and joking, although I have to admit the cross cultural differences meant that I didn't always understand what he was going on about. The hostel is on the hillside close to a huge grove of Eucalyptus trees (apparently they don't only grow in Australia who knew?). I get time to use a needle and thread to wick my blisters, (gross I know but it works wonders to drain those suckers) cook some food using the handily placed gas cooker (crazily right next to some of the bunk beds) and then sunbath on the terrace.
Hot and bothered enough to take my daily degriming shower and having become fast friends with James and Megan, we got dressed for dinner and went to find a restaurant. A wonderful evening ensued, mainly because when trying to order a larger than usual beer, i.e. a pint for once, Astrid helps by asking for a jug and Megan and I tuck in to our shared Pitcher. It often happens that you begin a conversation with another Pilgrim by saying Ola and end it with Buen Camino (Spanish for Hello and Good Way, shorthand for good journey I suppose). I have met many and introductions are not necessary or don't come up at the time, occasionally I have spent days in the company of someone whose name didn't escape me, I never knew it! It gives you all something shared to talk about so social situations are much easier than at home.
Leaving the restaurant after taking a few pictures of the Camino related artwork, making our way back to the hostel and by now it was almost dark when suddenly two small dogs appeared from someone's open front door. They made haste straight towards Astrid, James and Megan so I got in the way and shooed the little gits off. Dogs in Spain are very territorial and protective of their 'space' and families. They can also be incredibly well behaved and far less neurotic than our pampered pet pooches, trotting quite happily along off a lead with their owners or in many cases wandering the streets alone or in impromptu packs. This is mainly due to the fact that some are ill treated but the rest are actually given the freedom to just 'be dogs' and not expected to listen to lengthy speeches, understand them and behave accordingly or treated as someone's surrogate child. We could learn a lot from them, but at the same time the R.S.P.C.A. would have a field day in Spain...
Leave as soon as it's light if you know what's good for you., walking in the heat of the day is miserable, especially as it just keeps getting hotter in the South of the Country until at least five pm. For me it is also a bad idea to
stop for longer than a few minutes until I get where I'm going, preferring not to suffer the restart agonies and saving resting for the end of the day. I decided not to walk anywhere in the pre-dawn, mainly because I refused to get up even if I couldn't sleep this trip. Rest is not just desired it is necessary and the only foolproof cure for the more acute symptoms of what is undoubtedly a huge physical effort. Walking up to 25 Miles a day, carrying a maximum 10-15% of your bodyweight if you've got any sense (including the minimum amount of water that you can get away with and at 1 kilo a litre it's a balancing act worth getting very nearly right) it's like strolling a marathon distance daily over far rougher terrain than just tarmac. What you soon learn is that the opposite is true of w
hat you thought as a child when going uphill was hard work and downhills were a lot of fun. Any descent is very painful because you are having to brake and take all of that extra weight on your knees and through your legs and feet. Climbing is hard work but nowhere near as depressing as you might think, given that what goes up must come down at some point. You look forward to the countryside opening up to get views of some incredibly romantic and breathtaking scenery.
Making progress along a tarmac section where following the road is a good idea or the path is out of use or in places non-existent can make you a bit nervous given the fact that some Spanish drivers are obviously crazy, the views tend to be quite prosaic but I knew that the afternoon would bring me to a Nature Reserve. When the path appears to lead to the horizon it can be a bit galling however, it's also hard to see a huge expanse of flat and seemingly featureless countryside in front of you because that can become monotonous. Without a few hills or something in your peripheral vision so that you can see you are making progress , even if it's very slow compared to driving somewhere, it can become a strain on your moral. God I'm hard to please I know, but walking really is the best way to travel, I'm not denying that. You get a far better sense of the place you arrive at and the journey really means something...
The Nature Reserve was stunning but getting through it and completing the final climb and descent were such hard work that I don't have many pictures of the scenery so you'll just have to take my word for it. I had met two French Canadian Pilgrims, helpfully called Jacques and Pierre so that it wasn't difficult to remember their names (just which was which, haha kidding). Every now and then I would catch them up because I rarely stop, they would then move on along the trail, seemingly using my approach as a reason to carry on and call an end to their break. It is hard not to be competitive if you have the streak naturally. I DO BIGTIME in certain circumstances... A very important lesson that I learnt last trip, don't try to walk at someone elses pace, either too slow or too fast. We all reached the summit of the climb out of the Reserve together, as I am quicker at the uphills (and was desperate to blag some water off them oops), to the most breathtaking 180 degree views of where we'd come. Before they left me behind as I am slower than most at downhills, I blame the torn knee ligaments that ended my Football Career (amateur village team I'm not actually any good but enjoyed it).
Even the rivers are bursting with flowers in Spain
grow to love, always laughing and joking, although I have to admit the cross cultural differences meant that I didn't always understand what he was going on about. The hostel is on the hillside close to a huge grove of Eucalyptus trees (apparently they don't only grow in Australia who knew?). I get time to use a needle and thread to wick my blisters, (gross I know but it works wonders to drain those suckers) cook some food using the handily placed gas cooker (crazily right next to some of the bunk beds) and then sunbath on the terrace.Hot and bothered enough to take my daily degriming shower and having become fast friends with James and Megan, we got dressed for dinner and went to find a restaurant. A wonderful evening ensued, mainly because when trying to order a larger than usual beer, i.e. a pint for once, Astrid helps by asking for a jug and Megan and I tuck in to our shared Pitcher. It often happens that you begin a conversation with another Pilgrim by saying Ola and end it with Buen Camino (Spanish for Hello and Good Way, shorthand for good journey I suppose). I have met many and introductions are not necessary or don't come up at the time, occasionally I have spent days in the company of someone whose name didn't escape me, I never knew it! It gives you all something shared to talk about so social situations are much easier than at home.
Leaving the restaurant after taking a few pictures of the Camino related artwork, making our way back to the hostel and by now it was almost dark when suddenly two small dogs appeared from someone's open front door. They made haste straight towards Astrid, James and Megan so I got in the way and shooed the little gits off. Dogs in Spain are very territorial and protective of their 'space' and families. They can also be incredibly well behaved and far less neurotic than our pampered pet pooches, trotting quite happily along off a lead with their owners or in many cases wandering the streets alone or in impromptu packs. This is mainly due to the fact that some are ill treated but the rest are actually given the freedom to just 'be dogs' and not expected to listen to lengthy speeches, understand them and behave accordingly or treated as someone's surrogate child. We could learn a lot from them, but at the same time the R.S.P.C.A. would have a field day in Spain...
In the afternoon I forewarned those in the beds near me by miming fake snoring but it turned out they were all grunting slumberers too, so I got back and found my bunk in Snorers Corner.
Day Four - April 12th 2010
Leave as soon as it's light if you know what's good for you., walking in the heat of the day is miserable, especially as it just keeps getting hotter in the South of the Country until at least five pm. For me it is also a bad idea to
stop for longer than a few minutes until I get where I'm going, preferring not to suffer the restart agonies and saving resting for the end of the day. I decided not to walk anywhere in the pre-dawn, mainly because I refused to get up even if I couldn't sleep this trip. Rest is not just desired it is necessary and the only foolproof cure for the more acute symptoms of what is undoubtedly a huge physical effort. Walking up to 25 Miles a day, carrying a maximum 10-15% of your bodyweight if you've got any sense (including the minimum amount of water that you can get away with and at 1 kilo a litre it's a balancing act worth getting very nearly right) it's like strolling a marathon distance daily over far rougher terrain than just tarmac. What you soon learn is that the opposite is true of w
hat you thought as a child when going uphill was hard work and downhills were a lot of fun. Any descent is very painful because you are having to brake and take all of that extra weight on your knees and through your legs and feet. Climbing is hard work but nowhere near as depressing as you might think, given that what goes up must come down at some point. You look forward to the countryside opening up to get views of some incredibly romantic and breathtaking scenery.Making progress along a tarmac section where following the road is a good idea or the path is out of use or in places non-existent can make you a bit nervous given the fact that some Spanish drivers are obviously crazy, the views tend to be quite prosaic but I knew that the afternoon would bring me to a Nature Reserve. When the path appears to lead to the horizon it can be a bit galling however, it's also hard to see a huge expanse of flat and seemingly featureless countryside in front of you because that can become monotonous. Without a few hills or something in your peripheral vision so that you can see you are making progress , even if it's very slow compared to driving somewhere, it can become a strain on your moral. God I'm hard to please I know, but walking really is the best way to travel, I'm not denying that. You get a far better sense of the place you arrive at and the journey really means something...
The Nature Reserve was stunning but getting through it and completing the final climb and descent were such hard work that I don't have many pictures of the scenery so you'll just have to take my word for it. I had met two French Canadian Pilgrims, helpfully called Jacques and Pierre so that it wasn't difficult to remember their names (just which was which, haha kidding). Every now and then I would catch them up because I rarely stop, they would then move on along the trail, seemingly using my approach as a reason to carry on and call an end to their break. It is hard not to be competitive if you have the streak naturally. I DO BIGTIME in certain circumstances... A very important lesson that I learnt last trip, don't try to walk at someone elses pace, either too slow or too fast. We all reached the summit of the climb out of the Reserve together, as I am quicker at the uphills (and was desperate to blag some water off them oops), to the most breathtaking 180 degree views of where we'd come. Before they left me behind as I am slower than most at downhills, I blame the torn knee ligaments that ended my Football Career (amateur village team I'm not actually any good but enjoyed it).
Even the rivers are bursting with flowers in SpainAlmaden de la Plata, a funny little pueblo at the base of the hill, all red roofs on white houses. Finding the Albergue meant walking through the entire place and then retracing those steps to find a shop open once the siesta is over. The routine becomes familiar, place your sleeping bag out on the bunk of your choice (or the one you are allocated), then shower and change before seeking out internet, shops and other facilities leaving your heavy backpack in the hostel. Security comes from the fact that there is always someone dozing, repairing feet or at some other stage of the process so you can relax and just wander once you're ready. Astrid, the elderly Americans (now known to be Dick and Judy from Los Alamos New Mexico and Richard from Texas), les deux Quebecois (Jacques and Pierre), Megan and James are all there plus a load of others including a Spanish guy with really bad feet called Paco who generously gives me access to his first aid kit for tootsies, I blag some Compeed until I can buy some (blister plasters, some people swear by them some swear off them). We meet up later and Megan, James, Astrid and I tuck into freshly prepared Omelettes and in my case a similar meatier conconction as I just can't live without that ready source of protein, although eating nuts and Sunflower seeds get you part of the way there.
Most people prefer to walk alone during the day, makes it easier to walk in silence to save your breath for the effort of your endeavours and the evenings are for socialising, comparing injuries and anecdotes, tips for the way, sharing your wisdom and stupidity in equal measure in my case makes me feel much better and provides comic relief for everyone else and me too. Offering help and receiving it isn't natural to us all and I had to break through some seriously strongly held onto bad habits and opinions to make it through the 5 weeks of walking I managed in 2009. Learning from that I found it much easier to accept any such offers and also to provide my assistance should I feel it necessary or desired, even when not vocalised you become more open and alert. It's a judgement call, you can come up against a lot of resistance from some people whose ego or pride just gets in the way. You need to be humble, you need to be patient and maintain a sense of humour in some of the hardest times you've ever experienced in your life. I've never felt more vulnerable and invincible, more loved unconditionally and ignored unnacountably, more open and cautious and all at the same time.
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