Via la plata blog - Day 9

Following one of the Pilgrimage routes to Santiago de Compostela

Zafra to Villafranca de los Barros - 20k

Day 9 - 17th April 2010

Fairly well rested, still determined not to get up in the morning even if I'm awake at some ridiculous hour and just lie there instead of making the grumpily half-brained decisions decided on in the past. Last night was nice, Megan returned the favour and gave my shoulders and neck a good going over, neither of us trained masseuses, just keen amateurs. Stripped to the waist sat on the sofa in the lounge, I appeared more similar to a torture victim as groans, moans and yes, at times shrieks escape my slightly cracked lips to amused looks from our Pilgrim friends sat chatting at the table in the corner. Hints and tips for the Road and life alike passed from one to another. A Dutch woman arrived later on and told of terrible times in Portugal following the way here, nights spent fitfully camping, being treated unconscionably by the local men and just wanting to come to Spain as soon as possible. She's really cool so between trying not to get territorial over the kitchen and trying to politely not eat the rather slimy spinach omlette that Judy prepared it was a very relaxed evening.

Packing your bag should take place in the evening before bed or once the light has gone on in the morning, or in emergencies carry everything out of the room so as not to awaken anyone else and go to a shared area to prepare yourself and your things. That's the ideal scenario, unfortunately sometimes you get in late and everyone's already in bed ;-) and sometimes it's other people who just either haven't thought about it or seemingly don't care about the disturbance they cause to everyone else. Once one person is up it can lead to a chain reaction of individuals being woken and deciding to get up now they're awake already ;-(

Megan's feeing much better and is determined to walk today so we just pack up as usual and head off when we're ready. The route becomes quickly rural , we must have been close to the edge of town and muddy as there's been quite a lot of rain but thankfully the way is clear enough that we can relax and just walk and see where it takes us.
Paco and Helmut are around for a bit but like a running race we are all soon spread out over the course. Starting to descend there's a guy coming the other way in a small car and he's gunning the poor little thing to make his way up a very bumpy track, I couldn't imagine trying that at home, sober. Maria? The Italian Peregrina who sings her way along the roads and tracks is up ahead, her lilting trilling voice carries back up to us from further down the hill.

We rocked up after I asked a jogger for directions to a bar on the outskirts of Villafranca d.l.b. Ordering a beer and a cola cao and getting free food, yay meatballs and chips and some nice new weird looking stuff, the barman gave us a stamp in our passports, a map of the place and drew on all of the hotels, hostels and places of interest, all that for the price of a cheery hello and a couple of Euros for the drinks of course. Helmut shoots off while I wait for Dirk and off we go into town in convoy past the vibrant small Saturday morning market and into the main square, past too what looks like the start of a huge weekend Motorbike Rally and immediately come across all the dutch and the single polish and Jacques + Pierre, everyone basically, all looking either for a specific hostel or swapping stories about no room at the inns. The Police Station in the Town Hall complex beckons me so I lead the way and we are greeted and given advice about alternatives, Pilgrim passports stamped and everyone is off in a hurry towards one or another, like a walking version of it's a mad mad mad mad world... I put on a sprint for a few yards with a 15 kilo pack on my back, feeling pretty good for the rest day and then regret it as my knees and hips let me know that even when used to this hiking lark I can't piss about. Jacques & Pierre look momentarily horrified that I'll get the last bed in the place before laughing as we all traipse towards the hostels further out of town. We find one but it's full, hanging around to chat and swap a few pleasantries, everyone else bugs out and leave Megan, Dirk and myself to ask for more information on where the Bus Station is and chatting about the town. It's such a shame because it's a really friendly little place, the town and the Hostel which is basically some rooms in this guys house let out to travellers. Thanking the helpful hostel owner and making our way rather pitifully towards the Bus Station we got there to find that it's closed (no surprise there, the booths are shut no ticket attendants as the bus drivers do all that). We just checked the timetable and agreed a course of action i.e. waiting around for two hours before catching the next one and hoping there's somewhere to stay in the next Pueblo. Who should walk in but the Dutch woman from Zafra and almost immediately afterwards the guy from the Hostel that was full, he's got a room available and asking him on the fly, he'll even stretch it to four if our new Dutch friend would like to? No she's going on to the next place on the bus so Dirk, Meg and I take the guy up on his offer without futher arsing around and sticking our bags in the boot and thanking the guy profusely we all get in his car, I get in the front, only to realise I've got in the left side as I would at home and I'm now behind the wheel. Getting out as quickly as possible and hoping he hasn't noticed, it's obvious everyone has and I fess up, we laugh that I was going to steal his car and I get in the back instead for a our thirty second ride back to his house. Our patience paid off, we got a room albeit two beds and a mattress to put on the floor at bedtime, but a comfortable room in a wonderful Spanish family home and all the benefits and pitfalls that comes with it ;-) I shot off to find internet and ended up in a bar as usual after fruitless searching for Tourism Offices and Libraries and back again to the hostel (finding a wallet on the side of the road on the way) to take Meg and Dirk down for some free food with a beer. The Funeral Director's lists services on the doorway including Incineraciones, how frank they are here. Later and as there were only two beds in the room which Dirk and Megan would be having, after my hot ducha (shower) I was opportunistically lead on Dirk's bed in my pants, sewing up a tear in the leg of my trousers when he walked in from his own excursion to town, perhaps looking for wee fee (wi-fi). I looked up a bit surprised and said "Nothing to see here". To which Dirk replied with a completely straight face "I know". Maybe you had to be there but we all fell about laughing. Our family group was now complete, we had a father and two kids, Dirk, Meg and I. The next few hours passed with me taking the wallet I'd found to the Police Station and then running into the two lads whose pictures I recognised from inside it, sending them over to pick it up then all off out to eat at the bar / restaurant for dinner, which was standard fayre but nice and made more fun by the kids messing around and driving their mother crazy and oh yeah another game of football, thankyou Spain.