As Johnny Cash famously sang:
Spanish tum is a burning thing
And it makes for a fiery ring
As the temperature got higher and higher
I walked on with my ring of fire
We set the alarm for six o’clock this morning and were on the road thirty five minutes later, in the knowledge of a near sixteen mile walk ahead of us. This was our last day walking the Meseta part of the Camino and it tried all sorts to finally get to us but we made it through.
We had an initial eight miles to our first proper rest stop where we enjoyed a coffee and Napolitana (pan au chocolate). In the three weeks that we have been walking, this is the nearest I’ve come to religion.
So not that near really.
Today’s walk was almost exclusively along a straight, roadside path and it is fair to say that the Meseta saved its least interesting day for today but I still maintain it’s not as bad as some make out. However, not content with a bit of boring, the Meseta also threw at us lots of airborne allergenics and a bit of rain to go with (admittedly not the Meseta’s doing) a bit of Spanish tummy. Between us we have ended up with a sore nose, sore throat, soar feet and a bit of a soar arse. I have decided to try drink my way through this so I started at our second rest stop in Mansillas de las Mulas and had a second three miles further on in Villarmoros.
Then it was on to Puente Villarente where we are staying at the Spanish equivalent of the Crossroads motel and I am pleased to report that Amy Turtle is alive and well and in charge of the laundry.
Puente itself has the feel of a bit of a dormitory town to the nearby city of Leon where we will be staying tomorrow. It certainly marked a change from that we have become used to over the last few days. A stroll half a mile into town revealed not much going on at all so I took respite in a couple of bars before returning to the hotel. I am pleased to report that we are now definitely in free-tapa-with-every-drink country so I am not going to go hungry.
On our initial approach into Puente, we had passed hostal and restaurant Casablanca which building vaguely resembled a prison watchtower. I had remarked at the time that it would be a sad reflection on the town if we ended up eating there. Which of course we did. The only other option would have been Crossroads but whilst the food looked pretty good, I couldn’t shake the image of Shughie McFee stuffing the olives. Most of you will have no idea what I’m on about. Don’t worry, you’re in good company.
As I get ready for shut-eye there is a very noisy thunderstorm happening outside and the rain is lashing down but the forecast for tomorrow is good and we have only a seven mile walk ahead of us into the city of Leon. Just face it Meseta, you lost and we won despite everything you threw at us. Plus, into the bargain, I have learnt how to walk like a cowboy.
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