Thursday 25 September 2008

Kilt - Before and After

The Kilt at the start of the trip...

The Kilt at the end of the trip...

Annoyingly due to poor photography from me on the "before" photo it makes it look like the colours in the kilt actually managed to get more intense after 38 days under the Spanish sun. I don't think this is the case.

It is clearly a bit more crumpled now, and has the odd stain or two, but it has held up amazingly well. Interestingly you can also see on the after picture, in addition to the absence of the kilt pin, the exit wounds from its loss on Tarifa beach, on the left of the kilt as we look it. (A couple of these tears were also caused by me taking my rucksack off and managing to place it squarely on the pin as I lowered it to the ground.)

Tuesday 23 September 2008

Weight

Having arrived back in normal life many people have been commenting on how thin I appear, and it is true there is a lot of rib showing. I've gone down a notch on my belt, although I think I should really be two down, but I've reached the end of the notches. Indeed, by the end of the walk I could actually take the kilt off without undoing it. I'd asked a few people how much they thought I'd lost and most said around a full stone, and I would probably have agreed.

Today I finally had the opportunity to weigh myself and in actual fact it's only half a stone. I was just over 11 and a half stone when I left, and I'm now at just over 11. I can only guess that what's happened is I've lost most of the excess fat I had stored up before I left and some of this was replaced by muscle (I'd wager primarily in the leg regions...), and as muscle is considerably more dense than fat a small amount of extra muscle compensates in weight for quite a lot of fat loss.

No doubt in a couple of weeks time I'll be back to my usual 12-hours-a-day-in-the-office condition...

Monday 22 September 2008

Casualties

Two items that had supported me during the entire journey were sadly lost in Tarifa.

The first, my trusty kilt pin. During the entire journey it had done a marvellous job of keeping the kilt in place, and my modesty intact, no matter how strong the wind. Alas, the winds of Tarifa are different beasts. In the march up the beach to the end of the journey I was ploughing head first into what seemed like a full on gale (pleasantly loaded with sand...), and around the time I arrived level with the first houses of the town I stopped for a breather and, glancing down, I realised the kilt pin was no longer there. It appears it had been blown clean off by the force of the wind. It's little wonder the place is such a mecca for windsurfers.

Clearly the lack of kilt pin made the rest of my day in windy Tarifa a little more interesting for some of the passers-by than it might have been otherwise.

The second casualty was the toe nail on the big toe on my left foot. You may remember there was a previous post showing said nail a very unhealthy colour, and being compared to its equivalent on the right foot, along with a question as to which one might fall off first. Well, those who guessed left, guessed right.

Rather amazingly, despite the damage it had sustained (in the first week!) it managed to stay put for the entire journey, but on Sunday, just as I dived into the ocean for a pre-departure swim, it decided it had completed its task, and took leave of me. There are photos, but in the interests of everyone I think it's best they stay firmly off the blog.

Sunday 21 September 2008

Speed

Speed

We're driving up to Seville, where Ross, his girlfriend Lesley and Sarah have their flights home to London.

I just can't get over how quickly you travel in a car. On the highways in Spain each 100 metres is marked off with a single digit from 1 to 9 on the reflective poles by the side of the road, whilst the kilometres have their own sign with the kilometre number on it.

While walking down the highways these signs were pretty important, as I counted my way to the next important point, be it rest stop, garage, or town. After so many kilometres down the roads I had the timing fairly well controlled. Each kilometre was just under 10 minutes, so each 100 metres was just under a minute.

We're cruising along at a fairly decent pace (don't worry Mrs Campbell, Ross is driving very responsibly!), and i'm watching these signs flashing by. A kilometre sign when walking was a major event, in the car you see two a minute. Quite a difference. It's actually almost shocking. Although no doubt even by the time we reach Seville I'll be completely used to this pace again. 

Vera, Ross and a whale

Vera, Ross and a whale

Tarifa

Tarifa

Getting used to not having to walk is going to be difficult. One benefit is I can take other forms of transport though...

Saturday 20 September 2008

Celebration lunch

Celebration lunch

Tarifa

So it's done.

I'm here at the end of Spain, at the end of Europe and at the end of my voyage.

It's been simply incredible. Of course none of it would have been possible without the help of so many people...

Thanks to all my friends who supported and encouraged me wholeheartedly from the time I first voiced what might have been just another crazy idea of mine. Special mention for Ross, who came out to walk during the first section, and also to Annie, who sorted out the UK public relations and had the story placed in many publications.

Thanks to everyone who's donated, giving their hard earned pounds or Euros to help fight this cruel disease.

Thank you to everyone I met on the route who with their kind acts or words kept my spirits up and gave me the strength to keep going. Many are on the blog, but many more aren't, due to lack of time on my part, although they more than deserve their post.

Finally, thanks to my family; father and sister Jane who were with me by messages and calls from Scotland, and sister Sarah who came out to support and walk on the last week.

And thanks to my mother, for everything.

Friday 19 September 2008

So close

So close

I'm now just 9km from Tarifa, so barring any bizarre unforeseen disasters I should make it there tomorrow, about 1 in the afternoon.

If you're in the area come and find us, I think my mum would have wanted us to celebrate with a gin and tonic, so we'll likely be in a bar, next to the beach, raising toasts in her honour. 

It's been quite a journey. More tomorrow.

Family Sánchez Alonso

Family Sánchez Alonso

As yet I've not had time to tell the story of our dinner on Monday night. The reason for this is because I wanted to dedicate a little more time to writing the piece; when you read what happened I think you'll understand why.

We were plodding south on the pothole pitted road to Jerez, lush vinyards on our right hand side, bare fields of grey earth, like a lunar landscape on our left, where the sunflowers had been harvested.

A cyclist came up from behind us and, modifying his pace to our walking speed, inquired as to our walk. After chatting for a while in general we explained the precise nature of the project, and stopped to give him one of the business cards l've been handing out with the tartan bull logo and "Fighting Amyloidosis" wording in English and Spanish. Our new companion asked directly if we knew someone who'd had amyloidosis. He was the first person I've met in the entire route not to ask what amyloidosis was.

It turns out that our companion, Jose Ignacio Sánchez García, is a doctor, a General Practitioner, and has had patients with the disease, so knows it well. We discussed the disease and the associations that might be able to help with regards to getting the message out and fund raising.

We were still a couple of kilometres from Jerez, and it was growing dark. Jose explained that his house was right next to where we would enter the city, but that as the centre was another 3km on from there he would be happy to get home, drop his bike off and drive us up to save us the walk. I obviously couldn't but for Sarah who was beginning to feel the pain, after a tough day, it was the perfect offer.

Just as we reached the city limits however José stopped to call home and when he caught up with us asked if we'd like to come for dinner at his house and meet his family.

So instead of a tiring trudge through an unknown city to the centre, to then have to find a hotel for the night, we were soon relaxing in the pleasant company of Jose's family, made up of Milagros Alonso, his wife and their children Ignacio and Lucía. 

After extremely welcome showers we settled down to the finest (and biggest!) dinner I've had all trip. The morcilla (black pudding) from Salamanca, where Jose originally comes from, was exceptional.

The family are great company, and the conversation flowed as we tucked into the array of fine foods laid out before us. Mostly Spanish, as Sarah speaks a little as well, but with snippets of English here and there, as both Ignacio and Lucía speak good English. In fact the family had recently been in London, for site seeing and to test their English -they both passed with flying colours apparently, guiding their parents around.
One of the things noticeable about casa Sánchez Alonso are the excellent paintings. Jose asked me if I recognised the scene in one in particular, it was in fact of a Roman bridge I passed two weeks ago, between Caceres and Merida, and was done by none other than Jose himself. He is clearly a talented individual as well as a genial host.

Dinner done it was already late and time to say our goodbyes (Lucia, who had school the next day had disappeared a little before) but not content with having attended to us like kings, Jose then drove Sarah up to the centre and organised a hotel for us.

The walk has been made up of many acts of kindness towards me by complete strangers, but I think there is something incredibly special about being invited into someone's home. Mil gracias to Jose and his family.

Roman Ruins

Roman Ruins

I don't know what it is with me and Roman ruins but after the debacles at Alcaparra and Merida where I comprehensively failed to see almost anything, the same has happened in Bolonia.

The, apparently highly interesting, ruins lie to the north of the town, handy I thought as I'll have to pass them on my way in. Alas the track to the ruins from that side was firmly locked and bolted necessitating a 3 km detour round the ruins on the road.

I will of course have the option of then going into the ruins from the town side, but to be honest I can't see extra walking happening, especially given how close we are to lunch.  

I'll just have to make sure my next long walk passes lots of Roman sites to make up for this.

PS I've arrived on the town side, the photo is as much as you or I will see of these ruins today.

Julie

Julie

Yesterday I met Julie, from South Africa, who was running the information booth in El Palmar. Unfortunately the photo I had of her in her extremely pink new uniform was deleted in the great data card failure, so you won't be able to appreciate quite how pink it was.

She gave me lots of useful advice on the route along the coast i.e. where to avoid falling off cliffs etc. (which, as i'm writing this, must have all been good.)

She was great, and I don't think it was just because there was an inspection yesterday. I hope it went well!

Coastal hopping

Coastal hopping

This part of the coast is made up of small bays, separated by little peaks. It is spectacularly beautiful, although there is a lot of searching for the right paths to keep going round. That tower you can see at the end of the next bay is Torre del Cabo de Gracia. Appropriately located on Cabo de Gracia, I should be there in 20 minutes.

Taxi!

Taxi!

Sarah's off to the hotel Copacabana where we're booked in tonight. I'm heading off down the coastal paths, I wonder who'll be relaxing in the hotel bar first?

Thursday 18 September 2008

Paula and Sarah

Paula and Sarah

Paula was looking after the Hotel Casa Grande in Zahara when sister Sarah arrived earlier on today. I was lucky enough that she was still on when I got here about four hours later. Not only did she check me in, she sorted out information on hotels for tomorrow AND produced cold beer. Gracias Paula!

Rainbow

Rainbow

Unexpected weather

Unexpected weather

Apologies for the disjointed, or simply missing, blog posts today. It started to rain just as I set out and hasn't stopped since. Not only is this disappointing from a walking point of view, my stroll down the beach being somewhat less fun than I'd imagined it would be, but it makes writing difficult as I can't get the blackberry out.

Even though I've been careful to not get it wet the gremlins have unfortunately returned. This time however they've gone for my data card, which has failed. I've seemingly lost all the photos on it. Of course many are already saved to the blog but I've lost all the ones that weren't including some of people I met today. How frustrating. (fingers crossed I should still have the all the ones taken on the "real" camera, so it isn't a disaster by any means, but annoying none the less.)

It looks like it might be clearing up, so I'll head off out of the petrol station in Barbate where i'm writing this, down the coast to Zahara de los Atunes.

Journey's end

Journey's end

I think I can see Tarifa from up here on the cliffs above Barbate.

End of season

End of season

It's a grey day, day spots of rain are spattering out of low clouds. I'm walking along a deserted beach. Beach resorts out of season on a day like today have a peculiar melancholy feel to them, it's as if all the colour had drained away.

Wednesday 17 September 2008

Palm tree

Palm tree

Steam

Steam

Unfortunately I didn't catch it on camera but when I first stepped in the sea it gave off a huge cloud of steam. Feet now fully refreshed!

Cerveza

Cerveza

I think making it to the beach deserves a celebratory beer.

The Atlantic

The Atlantic

Just stunningly beautiful.

The Atlantic

The Atlantic

The ocean is just over there...

Salt and sauce?

Salt and sauce?

Fish and chips Chiclana style.

I didn't arrive in Chiclana until 10.45 after one of the most frustrating days of the entire route.  And there I was thinking the hard stuff was over and done with.

To cut a long story short my route today was basically making a short story long. Chiclana is only about 28 km due south of Jerez, but in order to avoid motorways, railway lines, forests, rivers and more motorways, I ended up doing well over 40, with a lot of frustrating zig-zag-ing about under an Andalucìan sun, then moon.

The final insult was that I arrived at Chiclana and followed the signs for the city centre, which sent me firstly round to the right, heading south west, then doubled back to the left, heading south east. 

I had in fact initially arrived at a point very close to the centre, and I could have headed straight there going due south, but I'd followed the signs for cars, which are sent on a mild, for them, detour, but which was another 20 minutes for me.

I can confirm that at 10pm, when hungry, it is difficult to see the positive side of this sort of signage debacle.

(I did see a lot of furniture shops during the detour though, so if anyone needs some advice on what's out there in the Spanish interior design market, feel free to get in touch.) 

Dinner done, it's time to plan the route for the last few days. I think there is only about 80km left to Tarifa, to the end, which is quite simply, damn hard to believe.

Tuesday 16 September 2008

Southern Spanish Pines

Southern Spanish Pines

There's a lot of these trees around;. I'm thoroughly enjoying their distinctive shape, and the fact the warm evening air is heavy with pine fragrance.

Baches

Baches

The mystery of the terrible dangers posed by baches has been solved. (Thanks to everyone who got in touch with the information!)

A bache is in fact a pothole, so provided you're paying a bit of attention (i.e. not walking along writing blog posts...) they should be safe enough for walkers.

Having said that there were a couple yesterday so deep that if one of us had fallen in a specialist rescue team would have been required to get the unfortunate individual out. 

Sarah's injury wasn't caused by a tumble into a well disguised bache, it seems to have been a strain that occurred around 20km in yesterday, that was then aggravated over the final 10km, and subsequently swelled up to its current balloon like status.

The latest I've heard from her is that she's made it to Chiclana and has sorted out an advance base camp in a hostel there, so pleasingly when I arrive (ETA 9.30pm) all the logistics will have been dealt with. Great work from the big sister!

Bad news

Bad news

Sarah reported that her right foot was getting very sore by the end of yesterday, and this morning it's swelled up and is extremely painful.

She's definitely not going to be able to walk on it today, so is off on a mission to find a bus to Chiclana de la Frontera, the planned sleeping place for tonight.

If she can get some ice and strapping tape she might be able to do some more walking later on this week, but given that it looks like a pretty bad sprain this may be excruciatingly sore and risk damaging it further. 

More news as it develops.

Danger!

Danger!

Danger, "Baches" says this sign we encountered in the vinyards just before Jerez. The problem is we have no idea what a "bache" might be, so it's hard to know what to avoid...

Misty morning - Jerez de la Frontera

Misty morning - Jerez de la Frontera

Monday 15 September 2008

New farm

New farm

Harvesting the sun's rays.

Random order

Random order

Now the blog is (fingers crossed!) operational again I'm uploading some of the posts from the "lost weekend". The order is probably a bit messed up so apologies for that.

Apart from doing blog administration there has been a bit of walking going on; we're now down to the small town of El Cuervo, about a third of the 30 km from Lebrija to Jerez de la Frontera. We've stopped to rehydrate and have a spot of lunch in a typical Andalucìan bar, all colourful tiles and loud conversations in the strong southern accent. Due to the heat our ratio of fluid to food intake is about 20 : 1.

Once we've coffee'd and tea'd we'll be making tracks south to the mostly astonished looks of the locals who wouldn't countenance going out in this heat unless they absolutely had to, and certainly not to walk 20 km.

Carmen y Cristina (y Sarah)

Carmen y Cristina (y Sarah)

We met Carmen and Cristina who were sitting out on a terrace in the centre of Seville having dinner.  They called out to us as we passed, having spotted the kilt.

Carmen's boyfriend is from Glasgow (they met at an Anthony and the Johnstones concert while she was teaching Spanish in Scotland). Yet more Spanish - Scottish connections!

Slow start

Slow start

Last night we headed out to celebrate Sarah's arrival and see some of the bright lights of Seville.  As often happens the night in Spain went on a little longer than expected, as we flitted from bar to bar and in the last one met some girls from Madrid, and had a great laugh with them.

So today's had a rather relaxed start to it but we're finally ready to head out. The problem is finding a route out of the city as all the main roads are dual carriageway and in principle prohibited to pedestrians. The approaches to modern cities are not designed with walkers in mind.

I rather suspect it could be rather taxing picking our way past the tangle of motorways, canals and rivers that surround the centre. But if luck's on our side we'll hopefully cut through and get down to Los Palacios by this evening.

One of my dos hermanas asks how many kilometres to Dos Hermanas?

One of my dos hermanas asks how many kilometres to Dos Hermanas?

Apologies.

Lebrija

Lebrija

Technical Problems

Hello all, as you can see from the last post, kindly submitted by my
technical support team in Madrid (who took a break from their romantic
weekend to do so!) my blackberry appears to have a technical issue,
and isn't capable of sending e-mails at the moment. As this is how I
post to the blog it has meant no new posts over the weekend.

I've got a work-around (hence this post), using internet mail, but
it's more complicated to do and I don't think I can upload photos.
I'll do my best to keep you all informed of progress this week if the
technicians being helicoptered in can't fix the problem.

I've spent the day on the road to Lebrija from Palacios, which passes
through the lower Guadalquivir region. The whole area is traversed by
canals, irrigating the crops, which include a lot of cotton.

It's hot, noticeably hotter than at any point on the route apart from
the two days after La Bañeza. I was fully hydrated when I set out this
morning, and over the entire 40km of today I've polished off the
initial 2.5 litres of water I had, plus a litre of sports drink, half
a litre of fanta and another 1.5 litres of water acquired in the first
village I passed through (at the half way point) and to finish a final
half a litre of orange juice, a litre of sports drink and a litre of
water when I arrived in Lejibre. In total that's about 8 litres of
fluid imbibed today to stave off the heat.

In addition when I arrived in Lejibre I discovered that today was the
final day of its Feria, or big party, so it seemed only fair to add in
a couple of refreshing beers to my liquid intake of the day.

Sunday 14 September 2008

Lebrija

Lebrija

He´s still walking

To all fellow blog followers,

This is David´s technical support team advising that although you may not have heard from him in the last couple of days he is still very well and en route down the main road towards Cadiz.

Unfortunately his Blackberry, which has been the communication device keeping us up to date with weather conditions, new "amigos"/pilgrims and of course blisters, has encountered some gremlins and so he is unable to post any more information at present. Understanding the importance of this, a helicopter is rushing to intercept his path southwards with engineers aboard who should be able to fix the problem and the final chapters of this challenge will be revealed.

Please be patient...

V&C

Saturday 13 September 2008

Via Augusta

Via Augusta

We've managed to escape the clutches of Seville, and are on the road to Los Palacios, about 24 km south of the city.

Completely by accident we're also on the old Roman road that connected Seville and Cadiz. I was hoping to follow this but didn't manage to find any information before I left, so it was a pleasant surprise when we came across this sign announcing we were in fact on the ancient highway.

One of my dos hermanas asks how many kilometres to Dos Hermanas?

One of my dos hermanas asks how many kilometres to Dos Hermanas?

Apologies.

Slow start

Slow start

Last night we headed out to celebrate Sarah's arrival and see some of the bright lights of Seville.  As often happens the night in Spain went on a little longer than expected, as we flitted from bar to bar and in the last one met some girls from Madrid, and had a great laugh with them.

So today's had a rather relaxed start to it but we're finally ready to head out. The problem is finding a route out of the city as all the main roads are dual carriageway and in principle prohibited to pedestrians. The approaches to modern cities are not designed with walkers in mind.

I rather suspect it could be rather taxing picking our way past the tangle of motorways, canals and rivers that surround the centre. But if luck's on our side we'll hopefully cut through and get down to Los Palacios by this evening.

Carmen y Cristina (y Sarah)

Carmen y Cristina (y Sarah)

We met Carmen and Cristina who were sitting out on a terrace in the centre of Seville having dinner.  They called out to us as we passed, having spotted the kilt.

Carmen's boyfriend is from Glasgow (they met at an Anthony and the Johnstones concert while she was teaching Spanish in Scotland). Yet more Spanish - Scottish connections!

Sarah

Sarah

Sister Sarah has arrived!

Friday 12 September 2008

Las Cumbres

Las Cumbres

After 11 km on the curves of the old national highway, the last 6 by moonlight, I reached the welcoming lights of Las Cumbres hotel.

Entering the rustic bar with its cobbled floor, the kilt provoked the usual mixture of stares, smiles and subtle and not so subtle pointing. A huge smile and a hearty good evening to all and sundry is the best approach I've found.
Spaniards generally respond well to confidence in oneself.
  
Pedro was behind the bar, and when I inquired about accommodation he took me through to the hotel reception to organise a room for the night. He owns Las Cumbres, and not only that but he was born here as well. 

The buildings of the old hotel are fairly impressive, but the paintings hung around the place are even more so. They include a range of old spanish classics together with more modern works, which complement each other delightfully. These are augmented by a number of black and white photographs with Andalucìan themes, including a huge aerial photograph of the Sierra Nevada (I think) and various images of the bullfight and bullfighters.

Post refreshing shower and inspection of a new foot injury I headed down to the bar for my dinner. (regarding the injury, somehow the sole of my right foot on the right hand side has developed an odd inflamed patch. It hasn't blistered, but instead is simply red and swollen. "Not life threatening, more tape required tomorrow", was the conclusion.)

Dinner was a classic of the region, a simple salad along with a plate of the finest Pata Negra cured ham (from free range pigs that roam the dehesa munching acorns), washed down with refreshing chilled red wine. Superb.

Pedro came to join me as I ate, a genial conversationslist our discussions ranged far and wide over the human condition. As ever he was interested in the project and the walk, and the places I'd visited and things I'd seen.

After I'd finished dinner the bar shut, but the good thing about drinking with the owner is there's no closing time. The  gin and tonics flowed and by the time we called it a night it was late indeed.

Luckily I've got an easier day today, just 35 km downhill to Seville.

Milestones

Milestones

Seville is now just 16 km away, and I think somewhere around here I've passed the 1,000 km mark.

Thursday 11 September 2008

Moonlight

Moonlight

Once again I'm still out and about as night has fallen, however with no clouds around, the moon, which is about three quarters full, gives off more than enough light to see by (if not to take award winning photos on a mobile phone camera by).

According to the good folk of the last pueblo I passed through there should be an hotel coming up soon. Otherwise it could be a rather long night under this silvery Spanish moon..

Mantis

Mantis

What looked like a bit of leaf on the ground suddenly reared up when I nearly stepped on it. Despite being very small he was quite ferocious and gave the end of my walking pole a brutal (although ineffective) beating when I gave him a little prod to see what he would do.

As soon as I wandered away he went back to being an unobtrusive leaf again.

Andalucía!

Andalucía!

I've thoroughly enjoyed every minute of my first visit to Extremadura, from the Puerto de Bejar to yesterday's stormy adventures,, but now it's time to head into the final region of my expedition, Andalucìa...

Meson Venta Los Conejos

Meson Venta Los Conejos

After walking down the highway in the dark for about half an hour I came across Meson Venta Los Conejos, which offered beds and dinner. It was a fairly easy sell for them, especially as I had no idea where the next place to sleep might be, and whether it would actually be open when I arrived.

So here I am. Sandra, in the photo, sorted me out with room, dinner and drinks (with that she's gone to #1 favourite person today), and also helped me work out exactly how far down the road I'd managed to get, and how best to proceed tomorrow. Excitingly Los Conejos is about 100 m from the Extremadura - Andalucìa border, so I'm only about 9.6 seconds away from my final region, provided I can keep up a Bolt like pace with 16 kilos on my back.

Wednesday 10 September 2008

Sunset

Sunset

Evening soon turned to night as I headed down the road.

Shelter

Shelter

Thank goodness I headed for shelter at the campsite bar when I did. The storm soon reached it and the furious sallies of thunder and lightening exploding over head were awe inspiring. Several times the lights in the bar flickered and died as the storm's energy over-powered the connections.

I sat it out with a steady supply of chat and wine from Pedro, the manager of the campsite, pictured above.

The storm eventually passed heading north and left gentle rain falling on the sierra, and I headed off south, in part because in order to get to Seville by Friday I had to do some more mileage today and in part because Pedro reckoned the rain was likely to keep falling in the sierra and therefore at the campsite, whereas further south, out of the hills it would likely be dry.

So around 8ish I wandered out into the damp air to see where the evening would take me.

Storm

Storm

Looking down the valley there is a fully fledged storm heading this way, and what's worse following the route is only taking me towards it faster.

Being hit by lightening is not on today's agenda so i'm seeking shelter in the bar of a campsite just off the path. Depending on how long it takes the storm to head off this could seriously ruin my plans to get to Real de la Jarra today as it's still about 16 km away.

The bar does have tremendous olives though, and not a bad selection of wines.

Coincidences

Coincidences

Just as I was about to leave the bar where I had lunch I spotted a familiar face. José Maria owns the bar downstairs from my flat in Madrid. (The Carpe Diem, a grand establishment, with not only food until 2am, but a darts machine as well).

He's heading back to Madrid after 10 days on the beach in Cadiz and decided to stop here for lunch. We had a quick drink and caught up.  It really is a quite a remarkable coincidence we ended up in the same bar at the same time in a small village in Extremadura...

Ominous noises

Ominous noises

Are emanating from this cloud. And they're very loud.

Poncho at the ready.

More importantly, this way Seville

More importantly, this way Seville

Great villa.

This way Santiago

This way Santiago

 

Dinner

Dinner

Julie, Daisy and Gerald are staying at the hostal in Fuente. We'd met as I wandered into town, they were sitting at a bar in the centre and helped me with directions to the hostal.

After showering I headed down to the garden of the hostal to hang out my freshly cleaned socks, and met them again. They'd been to the supermarket and were tucking into a fantastic spread of olives, hams, tomatoes and fresh bread. Before I knew it they'd poured me a glass of wine and were exhorting me to help them with the food. I must confess I didn't protest for too long before succumbing to temptation.

Good food and good chat, with twilight gently turning into night and the stars coming out above us.

Tuesday 9 September 2008

Pilgrim Hostal Fuente de Cantos

Pilgrim Hostal Fuente de Cantos

It's a delicately converted convent, and is extremely welcoming.  As usual I was the last pilgrim in (barring any spectacular late arrivals still to appear) although for me I was quite pleased with getting here for 7.20.

All the beds had already gone, but luckily they have made up a supplementary bed in a separate room. Pleasantly enough for me this means I have my own private quarters, while the other, more dedicatedly early-arriving, pilgrims are in shared dormitories, fighting for hanging space and subject to the snoring of their fellow travellers.  Whilst I'd like to take a moral lesson from this I suspect it's just randomly good luck.

Any snoring may however be drowned out by the bird song. There appear to be hundreds of birds nesting in the roof of the old building, and each one is trying to outdo the others with the volume of its trilling. It's delightful at the moment but I suspect, come dawn, it may lose something of its beauty.

Toro

Toro

I've not seen one for a while, but all of a sudden this fine specimen appeared on the top of the final hill on today's route, as if to urge me on to the end, in Fuente de Cantos.

Weather forecast

Weather forecast

I've just spotted the weather forecast on the TV in the bar where I'm breakfasting. The prediction is for a maximum temperature of a pleasant 30 degrees, however next to the temperature symbol was a rain cloud.  Whilst a mild refreshing summer shower could be very pleasant, I wasn't nearly so keen on the jagged lightning bolt symbol blasting out of the cloud and landing a direct hit on this region. Especially considering that where I'm going to be walking the only thing around me will be vines and I'm taller than them.

Tele España Extremadura

Tele España Extremadura

About 4 km from Villafranca, where I'm sleeping tonight, I met the team from Tele España, who wanted to do a short report on the project.

Ruben, the journalist and I did a quick interview in the middle of the vinyards. Meanwhile, before, after, and in the breaks in between questions, Lucia, who is in charge of the camera, had me walking up and down to get snippets of action to fill in the report.  If we include all the walking she had me do I think we'd be looking at around 850 miles, rather than 800 for the total.

We then headed up to the village by our various means of transport, car for them (do you know what a TV camera weighs?) and, well you can probably guess how I got there.

Once there we filmed the last few bits and pieces needed for the report, including me entering the village, looking at some signs, shots of the kilt from in front, behind, the side.  It was all good fun, and we had a laugh doing the various takes, and then to the bar, to film me ordering a beer. But in fact it turned out we'd finished, and this was in fact just beer for beer's sake.

After 43 km under the Spanish sun on dirt tracks that first beer is, well I was going to say exquisite, but actually that doesn't do it justice. It's beyond words. And in good company, it's even better.

Thanks to Ruben and the team. For anyone in Extremadura tomorrow I should be on the regional round up at some point.

Monday 8 September 2008

Vines

Vines

I'm currently passing through the Tierra de Barros which is renowned for its wines. I've been sampling a few since I arrived in Extremadura and have been thoroughly enjoying them and their refreshing fruity qualities.

At the moment I'm on a 27 km long, nearly die-straight, farm track with not only vines on each side of it, but as vines far as the eye can see in every direction. It's quite impressive and for a wine lover extremely appetising.

I'm staying in Villafranco de Barros tonight, the "capital" of the region, so I suppose it would be rude not to at least sample a couple of glasses.