As expected the next stage turned into a disaster that saw me thrashing about in prickly bushes having lost the path entirely. This was followed by a lot of climbing over and under and around barbed wire fences, all the time worrying about the nature of the cows in the fields I was attempting to cross. By nature I mean whether they were equipped with udders or not, the desperate hope being that they were.
The worst of all this was that for much of this time I could see the road I was heading for, but each time I got a little closer to it a new unclimbable barbed wire fence would appear as if from nowhere and send me back off on a new detour.
I have however finally made it to the road, the ever present N630, which I seem to spend half my life on at the moment. To make up for all that pain I've arrived at its kilometre 500. The kilometres go up as the road wends its way south, next to the via de la plata. I can't remember exactly where I first started walking on the N630 but I think it was around the low one hundred kilometre mark, so reaching 500 feels like progress.
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