Day 5: Cesar Menor to Mañeru

The early start with Pierre was a welcome escape from staying anywhere near those British women. They are yet to learn Pilgrim etiquette. After arriving in the evening yesterday they dumped their SUITCASES and left.  Returning just before 10 pm, after several of us were clearly trying to sleep, they proceeded to pack, unpack and repack... and play with their suitcases! Everything came out of and went back into noisy plastic bags. Lights were on, conversation flowing and much stomping around in hiking shoes.

Sure, it was probably their first night in an albergue, but social convention dictates that when sharing a room with others, you put on a smile, act with consideration and when all sense fails (IE you were not raised right) try common sense!

Around 10:15, while they were still showering or brushing teeth, I turned off the light. One of them exclaimed "it's dark" when she came back in, slamming the four behind her. (That happens at night.  Get over it!) Another began snoring shortly after that, but I noticed with respect, that my new Italian friend had discovered if she coughed just as snoring reached fever pitch, it stopped for a while.

I snuck out quietly and joined Pierre in packing in the courtyard and then we made tracks...up the hill to the cafe where the lady had judged my Spanish last year.  Her mood was still grim but the breakfast was good.

Solo female travelers are rare this year it seems. I met one today though, from Utah.

Then it was onward. Up the ridge to the iron people - Alto del Perdón.

The weather was good and the hike invigorating! I had taken the precaution of applying Compeed to one heel this morning in the dark and it was holding it's own. At the top, we met a wonderful Spanish lady who sold us fruit from a wagon. She also gave us a quick lesson in the colors of our chakras... I think! Neither Pierre nor I understood more than a few words but we were both mesmerized by her. I took her picture!

As with most of my Spanish encounters, I take the words I recognize and concoct a story sounds them.  FYI, my stories are fun, romantic and end happily... perhaps more so than the real stories! Hahaha.

The downhill was a bit of a bear.  It's harder on the knees and there is more risk of falling, but nothing as dire as the guidebooks and locals would have you believe. 

We waddled through a series of villages, including one with a Pharmacia vending machine (genius!) until reaching Puenta la Reina. The bridge is pretty special and like a lot of Spain, there is some serious history here. Pierre and I were both struggling.  Feet sore. Legs tired.  Energy lagging. Plans to make it to Lorca were being adjusted and we'd be lucky to make it up the next hill to Mañeru. Actually we were lucky I didn't remember there was a next hill or we might have stayed in Puenta la Reina!

Mañeru is where Tony and I stayed last year. A quiet village with a 12-bed albergue that also cooks for Pilgrims. My memories of this warm place don't let me down. The hosts are charming and friendly, showers are hot and water is plentiful, and trees outside the church are an ideal spot for journaling.

The sun is shining and a calming breeze blows gently across my tired feet. Time for a nap in public? What? You think I'd be the first Pilgrim?!

Today I walked 40,955 steps. The app says 22 miles.  (Distance between towns was 25km, but that doesn't account for the walking before, after and during stops between points A and B)

Where has the time gone? I've been walking 5 days. My body aches with overuse and my appetite has hit warp speed. A routine day now includes familiar faces, wringing underwear out and pinning it on a line beside everyone else's, wandering into churches, cafes, the occasional school and sometimes a private house - just out of curiosity  (don't tell anyone). And I generally fall asleep on a bunk to the sounds of random coughing, sighing, shuffling and snoring.

I wouldn't have it any other way.