These past few days have been something else. Remember when I said the rains fall mainly in the mountains (or not at all)? Well, they have been falling. I spoke too soon.
Contrary to my last post, I did not stay another night in Morella. When I finished my last blog I went outside & by the time I got to my hostal (not a hotel & not a hostel....but more like a hotel) it stopped snowing & even a beam of sun came out. I thought, huh, maybe I´ll go. So I asked a local if she thought the storm was over & she looked to the sky & said, I´m not sure, but I think so¨. So I finished packing up & got ready to leave. But I first went to explore the castle & church.
Whatever your thoughts are on religion or conquests or the hard (maybe slave) labor involved in the making of these grand buildings, if you can put all that aside and just focus on the beauty, these structures are magnificent works of art. The inside of the church was breathtaking & the castle, parts which dated back to the 11th century when the Moors first occupied the mountain, was spectacular with grand views (esp since the sun did indeed come out) showcasing snow on the nearby mountains.
After exploring I left & headed north & east. It was cold & blustery but by late afternon and early evening it improved & looked like the worst was over. When it was time to call it a day I discovered a dirt track leading off the road which splintered several times. I let my instincts follow me down trails until I came upon an old stone hut. It was dry, had some pine needles on the floor & seemed great for laying out my sleeping bag. Sure, half the roof was collapsed & the back wall smashed in. But it was cozy & I snuggled in for a cold but dry night.
When I awoke there was an inch of snow on the ground outside with fat flakes falling hard. And it never let up. It turned to ice midday & then cold rain for a few hours but mostly it fell in the form of ice or snow. The inside of my hut started leaking in places but I managed to find a sliver big enough for my bag not to get wet. At first it was all kind of exciting but then it became a SPAIN in my ass. I knew I wasn´t going anywhere that whole day.
I did what little I could do but mostly I just stayed warm inside my sleeping bag. Enjoyed the silence, the snow falling. But by 2pm I had to pull out the ipod. What did my ipod shuffle pull up? Coil´s, THE SNOW, so I hit forward to the next random tune & got Mark Hollis´, THE COLOUR OF SPRING, (which was only white as far as I could tell). So I stopped shuffle & put on what I wanted.
I told myself whatever it was like the next day I was gonna busta move. As it turned out it wasn´t too bad in the morning although there was a lot more snow on the ground. And it was still snowing too, but light, very light. I enjoyed walking in the cold weather. But by later in the day it turned very soggy again, very cold & rainy & I got soaked to the frigid bone. As compensation the scenery was quite lovely so I kept walking until I came to Horta De Sant Joan & found a delightful place to stay although I´m not sure what kinda place it was. It had dorms & private rooms & a big meeting area. It was kinda like a place for big family reunions. Only I was the ONLY one there. The owner, however, was very nice & made me a fire which I sat in front of for hours to warm up and dry off. It took hours to stop shivering.
Have to continue later...Time running out at library....Sorry
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Saturday, April 27, 2013
It´s Raining, It´s Snowing, This Old Man Ain´t Going
It´s true but ya know what? I kinda don´t care because I´m in my favorite town so far in Spain.
This past week has taken me on some of the most scenic and deserted stretches of road I´ve been on so far. I´ve been continually stunned by the beauty, even brought to tears. The mountain vistas, several of which had me trekking over 5,000 feet, have taken my vision as far as my eyes can see with nothing but endless, receding peaks. The roads have had 8 to 10 foot tall snow poles interspersed while the passes snake long segments of drift fences. Fortunately, I've had sun during my days so the weather has been conducive to walking. Mornings, on the other hand, have been cold with frosted blades and ice in places. The only thing I´ve really been missing are the goretex gloves I abandoned my first week walking when I had to reduce my pack weight by a couple pounds. I miss nothing else but those gloves now.
The villages have been the only things between the distances I´ve covered. Not many farms to speak of and much natural landscapes. But every place has had an abundance of charm. Cedrillas, Fortanete (13th century), and Allepuz where I had lunch. I asked the woman in the restaurant if it was typically cold now & she exclaimed it was a warm day which was why she was wearing a short sleeve shirt and had no fire to stoke in the fireplace. When I came upon Iglesuela Del Cid suddenly some loud Spanish bullfighting music from an old B&W movie started blaring over the village. I thought, ¨what a welcoming¨, but then the music stopped and some guy announced to the townsfolk that the weekly market was now open in the plaza. So I walked towards the center and found two tables with produce and one with clothes. Spillover, I figured. Eager to find the rest I left to find the heart of the town, the plaza. But I couldn´t find the plaza. Then someone told me that those three tables WERE the market & that was the plaza. Pretty sad, but this was what the sticks had to offer. I then met a man who opened up the doors of the church for me so I could look inside. Cold but quiet and very still. The totally black crucifix was kinda cool.
I can deal with rain and I can deal with wind and I can even deal with cold but when you put all three together, it´s bad news. That´s what happened on my way to Cantavieja. I was fine until the last 6 miles and then I had to call it quits. It took several hours under four blankets inside a pension to warm up. The truly awesome thing about this predicament was that it occurred during siesta time (2-5) and I got to experience the midday silence in a small town INSIDE, where all the locals experience this afternoon respite instead of outside & passing through. I love how much silence there is in Spain at all times of the day. It often takes me aback as I listen to the sound of pure nothing. Except birds. There are birds singing everywhere.
The other awesome thing about overnighting in Cantavieja was the seafood soup the grandmotherly proprietress had made. Best soup ever. So I had two bowls.
I walked 30 miles yesterday and it was gorgeous. No rain but some low clouds at times that would swirl away to reveal the most marvelous vista. Coming into Morella the sun came out and shone right on this hilltop village, smack on the castle which crowns the top. It was magical. It was something from make believe-land. I arrived later in the day while a cold weather front came through so I got another room for the night. Out my window (I mean right out my window) was part of the medieval wall surrounding the city plus one of the 16 towers. At night the castle and the walls were lit but it started to rain so I just stayed in. Wise move. It rained much of the night and into this morning and then it turned to SNOW! And it snowed a lot & hard (it´s still snowing) and I wanted to go out in it and walk the steep cobbled steps to the large cathedral and old Jewish quarter with it´s twisted little lanes. And I discovered more towers and fine lookouts and an old convent and a poet´s garden. So much charm. And so old. Many parts of the city were built in the 12 & 1300s. And the snow added something to it all that I adored!
But I cannot go out & try to walk in this. I´d die. I´d freeze to death. And tomorrow is supposed to be dry. So, I´ll go up into the castle later and walk the steps (some streets are STEPS) and discover more gems in this most magical city. Morella......you´ve won my heart even in this cold, snowy weather.
This past week has taken me on some of the most scenic and deserted stretches of road I´ve been on so far. I´ve been continually stunned by the beauty, even brought to tears. The mountain vistas, several of which had me trekking over 5,000 feet, have taken my vision as far as my eyes can see with nothing but endless, receding peaks. The roads have had 8 to 10 foot tall snow poles interspersed while the passes snake long segments of drift fences. Fortunately, I've had sun during my days so the weather has been conducive to walking. Mornings, on the other hand, have been cold with frosted blades and ice in places. The only thing I´ve really been missing are the goretex gloves I abandoned my first week walking when I had to reduce my pack weight by a couple pounds. I miss nothing else but those gloves now.
The villages have been the only things between the distances I´ve covered. Not many farms to speak of and much natural landscapes. But every place has had an abundance of charm. Cedrillas, Fortanete (13th century), and Allepuz where I had lunch. I asked the woman in the restaurant if it was typically cold now & she exclaimed it was a warm day which was why she was wearing a short sleeve shirt and had no fire to stoke in the fireplace. When I came upon Iglesuela Del Cid suddenly some loud Spanish bullfighting music from an old B&W movie started blaring over the village. I thought, ¨what a welcoming¨, but then the music stopped and some guy announced to the townsfolk that the weekly market was now open in the plaza. So I walked towards the center and found two tables with produce and one with clothes. Spillover, I figured. Eager to find the rest I left to find the heart of the town, the plaza. But I couldn´t find the plaza. Then someone told me that those three tables WERE the market & that was the plaza. Pretty sad, but this was what the sticks had to offer. I then met a man who opened up the doors of the church for me so I could look inside. Cold but quiet and very still. The totally black crucifix was kinda cool.
I can deal with rain and I can deal with wind and I can even deal with cold but when you put all three together, it´s bad news. That´s what happened on my way to Cantavieja. I was fine until the last 6 miles and then I had to call it quits. It took several hours under four blankets inside a pension to warm up. The truly awesome thing about this predicament was that it occurred during siesta time (2-5) and I got to experience the midday silence in a small town INSIDE, where all the locals experience this afternoon respite instead of outside & passing through. I love how much silence there is in Spain at all times of the day. It often takes me aback as I listen to the sound of pure nothing. Except birds. There are birds singing everywhere.
The other awesome thing about overnighting in Cantavieja was the seafood soup the grandmotherly proprietress had made. Best soup ever. So I had two bowls.
I walked 30 miles yesterday and it was gorgeous. No rain but some low clouds at times that would swirl away to reveal the most marvelous vista. Coming into Morella the sun came out and shone right on this hilltop village, smack on the castle which crowns the top. It was magical. It was something from make believe-land. I arrived later in the day while a cold weather front came through so I got another room for the night. Out my window (I mean right out my window) was part of the medieval wall surrounding the city plus one of the 16 towers. At night the castle and the walls were lit but it started to rain so I just stayed in. Wise move. It rained much of the night and into this morning and then it turned to SNOW! And it snowed a lot & hard (it´s still snowing) and I wanted to go out in it and walk the steep cobbled steps to the large cathedral and old Jewish quarter with it´s twisted little lanes. And I discovered more towers and fine lookouts and an old convent and a poet´s garden. So much charm. And so old. Many parts of the city were built in the 12 & 1300s. And the snow added something to it all that I adored!
But I cannot go out & try to walk in this. I´d die. I´d freeze to death. And tomorrow is supposed to be dry. So, I´ll go up into the castle later and walk the steps (some streets are STEPS) and discover more gems in this most magical city. Morella......you´ve won my heart even in this cold, snowy weather.
Monday, April 22, 2013
The Rains In Spain Fall Mainly.....
in the mountains! Or not at all. Whomever wrote ¨The plains...¨ clearly were using poetic license becuz the only rains I´ve had were during my first week in the mountains and the ¨plains¨or flatter areas then were as dry as a bone.
But I left the heat (hurray) and since my last post the weather has cooled and even gotten cold at times. I´ve had amazing roads, trails and backroads, most with little or no trafffic, most with incredible views and scenery, plus a welcome return to walking IN the mountains rather than around or through them. Last night it was like I´d camped along the Virgin River in Zion Natl Park and the nite before I had a mountain top to myself with 360 degree views of other peaks all around. And silence. So still and quiet. I closed week three with a lovely sunset and started week four with a glorious sunrise. In fact I just sat on that mountain for hours in the AM, it was too pretty to move. Later that same day while sitting above a canyon, this large soaring eagle flew 50 feet past me. It took my breath away.
With the mountains has come more darling villages wrapped around hill bases with yet another ubiquitous castle perched above. They are dazzling. And beyone the village base, it´s farmland or trees, none of that distasteful sprawl that we do in America. Our sense of aesthetics is seriously lacking; here beauty is revered.
And I really love all the old stone homes. I am forever in awe of the crumbling medeival homes and the ones still occupied. I have to pinch my arm to remind myself I´m in EUROPE and not some long lost non-western country. Oh, it´s not as entirely 19th century as I describe. The farmers are out with their tractors and baby wipes are available in the stores. But the man with his hand held hoe clearing an irrigation ditch isn´t something I see in the states anymore. Or the other morning, on the outskirts of a town, some young men were getting ready to do some day labor gig. They were in a small roadside cafe and they had faces from photos from the 1920s with eyes unjaded by time. They looked at me like I was some space alien, just stared, and I really felt like I was somewhere else. The old folks are out everyday. Active. And the pueblos like these people just weather so beautifully with time.
I´m in Teruel now. It´s a lovely larger town of about 30,000 with excellent architecture and very friendly people. I wasn´t going to come through here but I had to pick up a DHL package which contained a new debit card since I´d left my other one in a machine in Granada. My friend Christopher was instrumental in assuring it got to me. I will be off tomorrow taking small roads towards Cantavieja and La Iglesuela Del Cid. I´m trying to stick to smaller and or greener roads and there are few I´ve chosen that have disappointed. This past week has been pretty spectacular.
I bought new shoes today too. My first pair are nearly shoy but that´s what 23-30 miles a day will do and I MUST take care of my feet!
Time to sleep in a BED. First time in two weeks.
Peace.
But I left the heat (hurray) and since my last post the weather has cooled and even gotten cold at times. I´ve had amazing roads, trails and backroads, most with little or no trafffic, most with incredible views and scenery, plus a welcome return to walking IN the mountains rather than around or through them. Last night it was like I´d camped along the Virgin River in Zion Natl Park and the nite before I had a mountain top to myself with 360 degree views of other peaks all around. And silence. So still and quiet. I closed week three with a lovely sunset and started week four with a glorious sunrise. In fact I just sat on that mountain for hours in the AM, it was too pretty to move. Later that same day while sitting above a canyon, this large soaring eagle flew 50 feet past me. It took my breath away.
With the mountains has come more darling villages wrapped around hill bases with yet another ubiquitous castle perched above. They are dazzling. And beyone the village base, it´s farmland or trees, none of that distasteful sprawl that we do in America. Our sense of aesthetics is seriously lacking; here beauty is revered.
And I really love all the old stone homes. I am forever in awe of the crumbling medeival homes and the ones still occupied. I have to pinch my arm to remind myself I´m in EUROPE and not some long lost non-western country. Oh, it´s not as entirely 19th century as I describe. The farmers are out with their tractors and baby wipes are available in the stores. But the man with his hand held hoe clearing an irrigation ditch isn´t something I see in the states anymore. Or the other morning, on the outskirts of a town, some young men were getting ready to do some day labor gig. They were in a small roadside cafe and they had faces from photos from the 1920s with eyes unjaded by time. They looked at me like I was some space alien, just stared, and I really felt like I was somewhere else. The old folks are out everyday. Active. And the pueblos like these people just weather so beautifully with time.
I´m in Teruel now. It´s a lovely larger town of about 30,000 with excellent architecture and very friendly people. I wasn´t going to come through here but I had to pick up a DHL package which contained a new debit card since I´d left my other one in a machine in Granada. My friend Christopher was instrumental in assuring it got to me. I will be off tomorrow taking small roads towards Cantavieja and La Iglesuela Del Cid. I´m trying to stick to smaller and or greener roads and there are few I´ve chosen that have disappointed. This past week has been pretty spectacular.
I bought new shoes today too. My first pair are nearly shoy but that´s what 23-30 miles a day will do and I MUST take care of my feet!
Time to sleep in a BED. First time in two weeks.
Peace.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
In The Name Of The Father
Sometimes things just don´t work out as planned. Such is today.
I am in Yecla. It is bloody hot here, like near 90 degrees. But as with desert heat, there is no humidity. If someone had told me I was on the Mexican border in Arizona I wouldn´t bat a dust-filled eyelash. How did I go from such glorious wet, green mountains to these dry ones in such little time?
When I left Granada I hit the last outskirt town in Cenes, rounded a corner (literally) and I was in rural lands again. Then I took a road up past Dudar, Quentar & Tocon through what looked like a southern Cal canyon & had the road nearly all to myself the whole day. It was wonderful. Best paved empty road yet!
To avoid the motorway the next day I decided to take smaller roads north in hopes there was a connecting road from Villanueva De Las Torres to my next point. Folks confirmed there was a small road. I went for it.
I was disillusioned in thinking there was a fine line between intuition & faith. My intuition said, yes, you will be fine. So I walked farther north past very small places until the locals started to tell me they thought the river would be too high to cross. But I kept going. I kept believing in that road until I finlly got so far I refused to turn around. That´s where stubbornness set in. Faith that it would all work out despite being told otherwise, that's when my problems occurred. I eventually got on a very deserted road until I was backed into an area that looked like Death Valley. It was beautiful, but not where I wanted to be. And once at Torres the locals confirmed a road existed towards where I'd wanted to go but the river was too high to cross without a bridge. I walked 25 miles. For ¨nothing¨.
There was nothing too do. The store was closed in town and the only thing to buy was potato chips at a petrol station. I bought them and started walking back. Eventually, I hitched back. A sweet, older couple picked me up & nearly delivered me to the same spot I had started from. It wasn´t ¨cheatin¨ to hitch since these miles didn´t matter anyway. The kicker was, I had to now walk the motorway but it turned out to be not so bad. In fact, service roads ran alongside it so it was kinda pleasant.
Next day I rerouted myself along a shorter course which meant extra motorway miles but helped to make up for my 'wasted' miles from the day before. A road-traffic guy told me which side of the freeway I could walk for the most direct service roads and from then on I walked with no traffic at all. In fact, I put on my gifted Ipod for my bday (thank you Christopher) and had a great time. First thing I listened to? Global Goon, becuz I am one. But then some Cluster & Eno, Bowie, etc. I was back on track.
My roads are all much flatter than the first week. There are still mountains everywhere but much like our American SW, the panoramas are greater, the vistas wider, the flatness inbetween exists. My first week was all mountain walking. Through Benamurael, up through Huescar (lots of cave homes in this area, and some really old ones), up thru Publo De La Fadrique, onto a very pretty stretch with pines on the slopes past Armiles and Casa Blanca.
Bigger towns like Caravaca and Calasparra I skirted around; it´s extra miles to go directly into town sometimes so I abandon prospects of delving into their interiors.
Here in Yecla my goal was to go to a cemetery. My dear friend Juan was born in Spain & became a US citizen years ago. He had a tumltuous relationship with his father for many years, just like me. In the past year & a half Juan has gone through an incredible transformation but that´s his story to tell. It´s a journey of another kind. Before I left on my trip he wanted to know what route I was going to make thru Spain. I´d bought a road atlas, cut it up then marked & kept the pieces I would be traveling on. He got to one page and grabbed my arm; I´d chosen to walk through the town his father had been born in. He turned the page again and then said, as only Juan can say it, Ï don´t believe it¨, for I had also picked to walk through the town his parents are both buried.
It was my intention to go there today, even put flowers on the graves. Juan has since made peace with his father and I was hoping to do that for him but for many extraneous reasons, Yecla is not making it easy at all. So I must let it go.
And go I shall. Off onto the horizon again towards Almansa. And maybe even a shower soon (as in a bath). I´ve been in my tent for a week now. No hotels or hostels. I'm getting used to it but a clean wash could offer added energy.
I am in Yecla. It is bloody hot here, like near 90 degrees. But as with desert heat, there is no humidity. If someone had told me I was on the Mexican border in Arizona I wouldn´t bat a dust-filled eyelash. How did I go from such glorious wet, green mountains to these dry ones in such little time?
When I left Granada I hit the last outskirt town in Cenes, rounded a corner (literally) and I was in rural lands again. Then I took a road up past Dudar, Quentar & Tocon through what looked like a southern Cal canyon & had the road nearly all to myself the whole day. It was wonderful. Best paved empty road yet!
To avoid the motorway the next day I decided to take smaller roads north in hopes there was a connecting road from Villanueva De Las Torres to my next point. Folks confirmed there was a small road. I went for it.
I was disillusioned in thinking there was a fine line between intuition & faith. My intuition said, yes, you will be fine. So I walked farther north past very small places until the locals started to tell me they thought the river would be too high to cross. But I kept going. I kept believing in that road until I finlly got so far I refused to turn around. That´s where stubbornness set in. Faith that it would all work out despite being told otherwise, that's when my problems occurred. I eventually got on a very deserted road until I was backed into an area that looked like Death Valley. It was beautiful, but not where I wanted to be. And once at Torres the locals confirmed a road existed towards where I'd wanted to go but the river was too high to cross without a bridge. I walked 25 miles. For ¨nothing¨.
There was nothing too do. The store was closed in town and the only thing to buy was potato chips at a petrol station. I bought them and started walking back. Eventually, I hitched back. A sweet, older couple picked me up & nearly delivered me to the same spot I had started from. It wasn´t ¨cheatin¨ to hitch since these miles didn´t matter anyway. The kicker was, I had to now walk the motorway but it turned out to be not so bad. In fact, service roads ran alongside it so it was kinda pleasant.
Next day I rerouted myself along a shorter course which meant extra motorway miles but helped to make up for my 'wasted' miles from the day before. A road-traffic guy told me which side of the freeway I could walk for the most direct service roads and from then on I walked with no traffic at all. In fact, I put on my gifted Ipod for my bday (thank you Christopher) and had a great time. First thing I listened to? Global Goon, becuz I am one. But then some Cluster & Eno, Bowie, etc. I was back on track.
My roads are all much flatter than the first week. There are still mountains everywhere but much like our American SW, the panoramas are greater, the vistas wider, the flatness inbetween exists. My first week was all mountain walking. Through Benamurael, up through Huescar (lots of cave homes in this area, and some really old ones), up thru Publo De La Fadrique, onto a very pretty stretch with pines on the slopes past Armiles and Casa Blanca.
Bigger towns like Caravaca and Calasparra I skirted around; it´s extra miles to go directly into town sometimes so I abandon prospects of delving into their interiors.
Here in Yecla my goal was to go to a cemetery. My dear friend Juan was born in Spain & became a US citizen years ago. He had a tumltuous relationship with his father for many years, just like me. In the past year & a half Juan has gone through an incredible transformation but that´s his story to tell. It´s a journey of another kind. Before I left on my trip he wanted to know what route I was going to make thru Spain. I´d bought a road atlas, cut it up then marked & kept the pieces I would be traveling on. He got to one page and grabbed my arm; I´d chosen to walk through the town his father had been born in. He turned the page again and then said, as only Juan can say it, Ï don´t believe it¨, for I had also picked to walk through the town his parents are both buried.
It was my intention to go there today, even put flowers on the graves. Juan has since made peace with his father and I was hoping to do that for him but for many extraneous reasons, Yecla is not making it easy at all. So I must let it go.
And go I shall. Off onto the horizon again towards Almansa. And maybe even a shower soon (as in a bath). I´ve been in my tent for a week now. No hotels or hostels. I'm getting used to it but a clean wash could offer added energy.
Monday, April 8, 2013
HERE I GO....AGAIN
Literally, I´m trying this blog thing out again. We´ll see if it works.
After nearly three weeks of travel in Portugal & Morocco I finally started the walk from Gibraltar. I arrived to spend a full day on The Rock beforehand and am grateful for it. I had no idea. Did you know there are more roads INSIDE the Rock than on the outside? The day was lovely and though low clouds prevented seeing Africa across the Straits the sun was warm, the trails precarious and empty, the views incredible and the Barbary Apes a little too well fed from the tourists.
I left the next morning. The time had changed that night so when I got up to walk out to the Punta De Europa\Gibraltar it was still dark. But from there I headed back to get some breakfast & my bag and then waited until it officially became my bday somewhere in the world. That place would be Kiribati, the first country to greet the new day. That way I could still say I started on my bday.
I´m glad I left on Easter Sunday. Things were quiet. No one was at work. I slipped thru Gibraltar and into Spain and got out of the all the urban environs with relative ease. Had I waited until Monday morning I would have had a wretched bday for sure.
It was grey day & drizzly during parts of the day but it was a good start. The walking was mostly flat. By day two and from then on it´s been mostly mountains. And lovely mountains I might add. The climbing was a bit hard at first and my knee was thinking once or twice about this undertaking but it´s all been good since.
I picked my routes thru smaller places on what seem to be smaller roads. So far I´ve picked well. Even the locals have helped out by giving me a dirt track or secondary road that are not on my map and these have all proven to be quite nice. I´ve gone thru Jimena, Gaucin, Atajate, Cuevas, Ronda (not very small), El Chorro, Villanueva De La Concepcion, Ventas De Zafarraya and all the way thru to Granada where I arrived yesterday. The places I´ve walked thru are like some of the best images from our American West only there seem to be more mountains all around. El Chorro was a surprise! It was like walking into a new Zion Ntl Park (except coming out the opposite end of this wonderful place put me in front of an electro hydro dam). The sunsets and rainbows have had me rubbing my eyes. I´ve had rain, sun, gusts, fog and some very chilly mornings. But spring is in the air. The birds are a chorus of sound, every imaginable blooming plant is showing it´s best colors. It´s vivid. Electric.
I have eaten some great meals in little towns. In Gaucin I had my bday meal of fish on a patio on the side of a mountain looking out to the mountains receding below & into the southern coastal waters of Spain. In the very distance sat Gibraltar. The Rock could be seen from that vantage point.
I´ve been gifted by strangers and the angels are guiding me along the way. In one town, a simple yet powerful act of kindness has changed my life forever and for the better. I have been moved sometimes beyond words. Though I cannot speak Spanish too well I say enough to get by and understand as much.
This first week has me trained pretty well now. I realize I've had to be extra kind to myself when starting because my body has remembered what it´s about to go through. It wants to resist so I´ve had to coax it a little, pamper it some and make some deals. So far, at 20 to 25 miles a day I can manage. One day I did 30 but that seemed to push it. As long as I do 20 I´m ok. I want to take time to enjoy the scenery.
One place I passed through was Alhama De Granada where I walked a medeival path inside a canyon that the Virgen was supposed to bless those that passed. It was a beautiful trail so I shedded my pack at a cafe for an hour to cross through.
This morning I visted the Alhambra. It is a series of palaces built upon a hilltop overlooking the city. The first was built in the 1300s. The whole complex is stunning and so many times I´d look out and swear I was looking at something from a page torn out of a fairytale book. It was a perfect place to stop and see one of the creme de la creme spots in Spain. Thank you Juan for urging me to come here. It was worth making the stop.
But I´m off tomorrow, back on the road. I´ll hit some small places east and north and make my way onwards. I dread the reality of possibly needing to walk the motorway for a number of miles to connect the dots. But maybe some road not on my map will reveal itself.
I´ll post when I can but be patient. Internet isn´t in the small villages.
After nearly three weeks of travel in Portugal & Morocco I finally started the walk from Gibraltar. I arrived to spend a full day on The Rock beforehand and am grateful for it. I had no idea. Did you know there are more roads INSIDE the Rock than on the outside? The day was lovely and though low clouds prevented seeing Africa across the Straits the sun was warm, the trails precarious and empty, the views incredible and the Barbary Apes a little too well fed from the tourists.
I left the next morning. The time had changed that night so when I got up to walk out to the Punta De Europa\Gibraltar it was still dark. But from there I headed back to get some breakfast & my bag and then waited until it officially became my bday somewhere in the world. That place would be Kiribati, the first country to greet the new day. That way I could still say I started on my bday.
I´m glad I left on Easter Sunday. Things were quiet. No one was at work. I slipped thru Gibraltar and into Spain and got out of the all the urban environs with relative ease. Had I waited until Monday morning I would have had a wretched bday for sure.
It was grey day & drizzly during parts of the day but it was a good start. The walking was mostly flat. By day two and from then on it´s been mostly mountains. And lovely mountains I might add. The climbing was a bit hard at first and my knee was thinking once or twice about this undertaking but it´s all been good since.
I picked my routes thru smaller places on what seem to be smaller roads. So far I´ve picked well. Even the locals have helped out by giving me a dirt track or secondary road that are not on my map and these have all proven to be quite nice. I´ve gone thru Jimena, Gaucin, Atajate, Cuevas, Ronda (not very small), El Chorro, Villanueva De La Concepcion, Ventas De Zafarraya and all the way thru to Granada where I arrived yesterday. The places I´ve walked thru are like some of the best images from our American West only there seem to be more mountains all around. El Chorro was a surprise! It was like walking into a new Zion Ntl Park (except coming out the opposite end of this wonderful place put me in front of an electro hydro dam). The sunsets and rainbows have had me rubbing my eyes. I´ve had rain, sun, gusts, fog and some very chilly mornings. But spring is in the air. The birds are a chorus of sound, every imaginable blooming plant is showing it´s best colors. It´s vivid. Electric.
I have eaten some great meals in little towns. In Gaucin I had my bday meal of fish on a patio on the side of a mountain looking out to the mountains receding below & into the southern coastal waters of Spain. In the very distance sat Gibraltar. The Rock could be seen from that vantage point.
I´ve been gifted by strangers and the angels are guiding me along the way. In one town, a simple yet powerful act of kindness has changed my life forever and for the better. I have been moved sometimes beyond words. Though I cannot speak Spanish too well I say enough to get by and understand as much.
This first week has me trained pretty well now. I realize I've had to be extra kind to myself when starting because my body has remembered what it´s about to go through. It wants to resist so I´ve had to coax it a little, pamper it some and make some deals. So far, at 20 to 25 miles a day I can manage. One day I did 30 but that seemed to push it. As long as I do 20 I´m ok. I want to take time to enjoy the scenery.
One place I passed through was Alhama De Granada where I walked a medeival path inside a canyon that the Virgen was supposed to bless those that passed. It was a beautiful trail so I shedded my pack at a cafe for an hour to cross through.
This morning I visted the Alhambra. It is a series of palaces built upon a hilltop overlooking the city. The first was built in the 1300s. The whole complex is stunning and so many times I´d look out and swear I was looking at something from a page torn out of a fairytale book. It was a perfect place to stop and see one of the creme de la creme spots in Spain. Thank you Juan for urging me to come here. It was worth making the stop.
But I´m off tomorrow, back on the road. I´ll hit some small places east and north and make my way onwards. I dread the reality of possibly needing to walk the motorway for a number of miles to connect the dots. But maybe some road not on my map will reveal itself.
I´ll post when I can but be patient. Internet isn´t in the small villages.
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