Once again we managed to make a wrong turn. I really don’t know how we do it, we are so vigilant! (Yeah right!) I think perhaps we were misguided by a Frenchman going the same way and he by us. Luckily he noticed (using his GPS) and drew our attention to it. So the three of us scurried back down our dirt road and up a hill across another cows trail. There was Isabelle who saw red as soon as she set eyes on the Frenchman. No love lost there apparently! Obviously the French don't hold back with their emotions! No problem, he sprinted on ahead and Isabelle and Jenny 'walked and talked' for some time while I wandered off ahead at my own pace.
The hill was steep but not uncomfortably so, albeit the track was stoney and uneven. The view from the top of the hill (the highest peak between Salamanca and Seville, was spectacular, although there was a haze in the distance reducing visibility. The hill was adorned with power generating windmills and the sound of whirring was the only noise that could be heard. A group of four locals appeared at one time but took to the scrub up the hill and we did not see them or anyone else again for the 4km journey over the hill. We had separated from Isabelle and it’s difficult to remember exactly who was ahead and who behind. It never really matters.
Once down the other side of the hill, we walked on a dirt road, then a small bitumen backroad with negligible traffic. This component of our walk was 14 km, through more cork trees and fields of crops, ploughed fields, cattle, sheep and horses, and upon a specific turn, Iberian pigs. The hill descent gradually levelled and the woodlands became flat farmland. Isabelle appeared but then slowed down and Jenny and I moved ahead. It was a pleasant descent to our destination, but a surprising reception.
The hostel that we had arranged the night before was hosting a 40th birthday party. And it was loud. The birthday boy was dressed in a cinderella style dress which stretched taut across his solid frame. Spanish really do know how to have a good time, although I wonder how he actually felt, being the only person in the party dressed in costume. Or was he? Hmmm....
Isabelle joined us for drinks and managed to drag along with her the dehydrated pilgrim from a few days ago. We moved into the courtyard to escape the party noise but they were very quick to follow us out. To put it bluntly, there was no escape. It was loud, boisterous and noisy. No complaints, just observations.
Following a brief R&R in our room we regrouped for dinner (same place), and arranged for the landlady to prepare us all bocadillos since there are no services enroute between here and our destination of Salamanca in the morning. And we called it a night. It had been a good day.
Love the ‘special effects’ photo, and the beautiful ‘rose’ relaxing amongst the wildflowers.