Via de la Plata
Tuesday 10 April 2012
Day 14
Caceres to Alconetar. 30km.
At last we found a post office and managed to get the Kindle on its way back to Amazon. We had the basic breakfast in the albergue cafeteria of a large toasted piece of bread, butter and marmalade with coffee before getting away at 8am. We had to wait ten minutes for the post office to open before we went to the tourist info to try to reserve beds at the hostel we were making for today. They tried phoning but there was no reply, they got through to the local council who told them it was open; we went on our with with assurances from them that they would kept trying and hopefully make a booking for us.
We had to rely on Cicerone to get us through Caceres and on to the Camino again. The first part when we left the city was on the busy N630 and the hard shoulder was narrow and dangerous with the traffic whizzing past. We could see a footpath in the fields in the distance on the other side of the roadway fence and tried to scramble over the fields to get to it. We were snookered when we came to a river and had to make our way back to the road. After a couple of kilometres a path did appear that led us on to this track I saw from a distance and to the security of our familiar yellow arrows.
Our stop after two hours coincided with arriving at the town of Casar de Caceres and it was into the first bar we came to for a refreshing 'cafe con leche'. On leaving we came to a 'Dia' supermarket where we managed to stock up on basic supplies. This town turned out to be a lot bigger than I thought and we had to depend on Cicerone again to lead us through, as there were no waymarks at all. Someone else having difficulties finding her way was the Danish girl we met a few days ago when leaving Merida, she had only walked from Caceres as well this morning but was crippled by blisters and now looking for the albergue but couldn't find it, that's the problem with doing long distances too early and before your feet are toughened up.
The weather was looking quite good earlier but clouds were developing, fortunately they were broken up and still lots of blue showing through. There was a strong wind blowing and we felt the force of it more on the next section. Cicerone portrays it as ' a very nice walk in the early morning if you like being - on the roof of the world- in wide open spaces'. This was a very accurate description as the path made its way over bleak moorland, desolate, and rocky, fit only for the sheep that grazed on the sparse grass. Our guide book also said that we could see the town of Canaveral at the foot of a mountain in the distance from the high point of the track and we actually could make it out, it was about 30km away. The book also stated that looking back on a good day we would see Caceres but we failed there, even though it was a fine and clear.
The track was a firm gravelled surface with dry stoned walling which gave us some shelter from the wind coming from the west. We were able to sit behind these walls to have our lunch and rest breaks, where it was surprisingly quite warm when out of the wind. Soon we could see not only Canaveral, now a little closer, but the reservoir Alconetar was now clearly visible, stretching out in the valley below. There was quarrying and road or railway line building going on in the area and this caused diversions to the Camino route. The detour took us in a wide loop to meet the N630, and at this junction we had an argument about whether to go right or left. Fortunately there was a workman at the junction directing traffic and he told us to go right. The problem now was that we had 7km on the road before reaching the turn off to the albergue, this was compensated by beautiful views of the man-made lake and the back drop of mountains. What made this last part difficult was counting down the kilometres from the roadside markers not just in full kilometres but they were given in 100 metre intervals; the wind which had now picked up again and especially when we crossed the bridges over the Rio Almonte and Rio Tajo it was like a wind tunnel; and lastly worrying whether the albergue would be full or even open.
When we turned into the dirt road going down towards the lake and the albergue there was a sign ' A abierto' which I took in my limited Spanish to mean it was closed. As we continued down the track it started to rain and I was now contemplating having another 14km to walk in the wet to Canaveral tonight. Imagine my surprise and joy when we came to a '5 Star' albergue open for business. They even had reservations for us, phoned through by the tourist office in Caceres. The dorms were small, three double tiered bunks with a stairway and a platform giving access to the top one. The showers were first class and there was also a service where the warden did your washing for you. There was the bonus of WiFi being available.
Once we had washed and settled in we were able to order a meal from a limited menu. We had a salad between us and then a lasagne each, it was like an airline meal cooked in the microwave but very nice. The hostel was about half full and there were a few familiar faces of people who had pushed on while we were taking it easy. Jorge was there and the two smelly German ladies, also the Iron Man Frenchman we met at Valdesalor must now be taking it easy, he had only walked from Caceres today as well.
Moira was able to download the last few days newspapers from the Internet to the iPad. She stayed up to read them while I got off to bed. I found a big fluffy duvet in a cupboard in the dorm and I was snug under it as I managed a good night's sleep.
A point of interest that Moira got from the Internet was from the blog 'Alison's Wanderlust'. Alison is the girl from California that we met in Sevilla who took a taxi to avoid the 16km stretch of road walking from Castilblanco. She is now about two days ahead of us but again cheated by taking a bus from Alcuescar to almost Caceres.
Via de la Plata
Wednesday 11 April 2012
Day 15
Alconetar to Grimaldo. 22km
I was wakened, got up at 5:30am and went through to the dining area to work on yesterday's blog. The French Iron man as I call him, that did 60 km in one day was also up and he presented me with a cup of coffee. All the breakfast things had been left out by the warden who obviously goes home at night and only turns up at mid-day to open up for the arrival of the pilgrims. There were three carafes of coffee to be heated up as required in the microwave, orange juice, bread for toasting, croissants, and the little Spanish fairy cakes called 'magdalenas'. I did a bit of writing then gave Moira a call to get up and enjoy this very nice breakfast.
We were packed up and ready to go by 7:30am and watched the sun rise over the mountains behind Canaveral when we reached the ridge well above the N630. It was a pleasant walk along a reasonably flat track towards Canaveral, signposted as being 11km away. It didn't look too far this morning, but if we had needed to continue there last night it would have been heart breaking. The route was disrupted with a few detours, again due to the road or railway construction, we weren't sure which, but all diversions were well sign posted. We didn't have to go into Canaveral, the Camino by-passed it, but we stopped for a break at the junction with a path, signposted to the albergue in the town. At this stop I had a drink of water and a 'Magdalena' cake I had taken from the albergue, while Moira tended to her blisters which were given her problems. It was only a short walk today so she would manage to hold out.
As our path looped round the town it met the N630 which we left after a short distance to pick up a path at the Ermita de San Cristobal, a little chapel on the hillside. There was a bit of a climb now and at the top we meandered through a lovely pine forest. The path was carpeted in pine needles and it was very easy on our feet. We emerged from the forest to meet the road again at Puerto de los Castanos which turned out to be an hotel. Here we now entered another forest, this time of oak trees, their barks all stripped for the cork. There was a sign 'Albergue Grimaldo 2km', but this seemed more like 4km when we reached the turning into the village and another sign there,'Albergue Grimaldo 1km'. Fortunately this was accurate and we soon came to the village and the albergue was in front of us, attached to and run by the pub.
It was a fairly basic place with three rooms with two double bunks in each. There was a microwave, so I was able to make coffee and tea later. We settled on a top and bottom set of bunks, I don't mind the top one now. Later we gave up these bunks to the French couple who arrived late when the place was full. They were going to sleep on a double mattress on the floor outside our dorm, I would be disturbing them when I get up to the loo at night and in the morning when we get up early, so better we slept there instead. This was the guy who miscalculated his schedule and hotel booking in Caceres and took a taxi there from Valdesalor. He had cheated again this morning taking a bus from Caceres to Canaveral and only walking from there today.
The village of Grimaldo extended for about 50 metres on either side of the albergue and pub. There was definitely nothing to do here. After we had lunch we sat on a comfortable sofa, drank coffee and read the newspapers that Moira managed to download last night. In the evening we went to the attached pub, Bar Grimaldo, for dinner. It was fixed menu with soup to start, the kind we seem to keep getting that has lots of spaghetti in it; the main course was fish and chips and we finished with ice cream. Not too bad for E10 each.
We got to bed as soon as we returned to the albergue and we were quite comfortable on the mattress on the floor. I dropped off to sleep but wakened about 10:30 to go to the loo and tripped over a couple sleeping on a mattress across the doorway out of our room. When I returned I thought they would have moved from such a stupid place but on, I stood all over them again. This resulted in some shouting and cursing, so when I got to bed I was upset and couldn't sleep. I had to pay a visit again about 1:30 and fortunately they had seen sense and moved away from the doorway. I have found that a lot of people on the Camino are very selfish and don't consider how their actions might affect their fellow pilgrims.
Via de la Plata
Thursday 12 April 2012
Day 16
Grimaldo to Galistao 20km.
I eventually got some sleep after the arguments of last night and it was 6:30am when I awoke. I got up right away, nobody else was up so I made some coffee for us using the microwave, I've given up caring about disturbing people, they should be awake by this time anyway.We had a good breakfast before leaving, there was still plenty of cereal, yoghurt and magdalenas left in our food supply. Nobody else seem to have anything to eat before leaving, they don't appear to carry any food and depend on the bars for their meals.
We left at 7:15am and it took us fifteen minutes to find our way down to the Camino at the point we left it yesterday. It was still dark especially in the wooded area and we took one wrong turning and had to backtrack. Once on the trail again it was a very pleasant walk initially through rolling hillsides with a backdrop of some high mountains, resembling Scotland a lot. The path was well defined and the way marking excellent as we made our way through the gates of one farm field after the other. Underfoot it was rough in places which slowed us down but we were taking it easy anyway as the plan was to do about 30km to Carcaboso. The weather was nice and not as cold early on as previous days, later it warmed up enough to take off our fleeces.
We are having a stop every hour now for at least five minutes, this gives my back a rest which still suffers from an awkward rucksack. After about two hours we came up to the 'French Iron Man' having a rest and a smoke. Moira greeted him with an 'Ola' and 'Buen Camino' but got no reply, as we went on I shouted 'Bye' but got only a grunt in reply. We don't know what his problem was and we didn't see him again today.
After a while the fields and undulating scenery were broken by the appearance of a broad river below forming a horseshoe bend as it fed a small reservoir. The track went round the dam to a weir and then met the road. At this point there was a trail with one of the concrete blocks indicators showing a rough path climbing the hillside but pointing towards the road to the left was a continuous line of yellow arrows. We assumed that this was a diversion and a new route had been created. We picked the arrowhead route which was a mistake. This resulted in about an 8km detour on tar roads all the way to Galesteo, the only redeeming feature of going this way was two long multi-arched railway bridges. Otherwise it was a pure slog, it took us through a small town which bore no indication of what it was called, then 5km of distance markers to torture us. We had read in 'Alison's Wanderlust' blog the other day that she came to a junction of paths and somebody shouted 'don't go that way take this route' and she saved 5km. We now assume that the junction was this one with all the yellow arrows. Later another perigrino told us that the diversion was to take people through the town with 'no name' and hope people would spend money there. We were not amused.
When we reached Galesteo we were exhausted and hungry. The next planned 11km to Carcaboso was also on the road, we couldn't face it and made for the local albergue. The town was completely walled with battlements all the way round and the Camino led up to the Puerto del Rey, an archway through the walls. The guide folds us to walk around the outside of the walls to find the hostel, and we were successful with the help of the locals and some 'pigeon Spanish'. The door was locked, par for the course, but while Moira went searching for assistance I found a Norwegian pilgrim sunning himself at the back. He was leaving later to bus it to Salamanca but was able to show me how to access the box where the door key was kept. I was in making coffee by the time Moira returned, she had been able to get food at a small supermarket and we had a good lunch thanks to the microwave.
We had finished eating when the wardens arrived, they gave out extra bedding and pillows then stamped our credentials, all for E7 each. Jorge had staggered in as well having slogged round the road route, but an English guy originally from Lincoln, now living in the States took the other way and said it was all off road, delightful and much shorter. Later in the afternoon the boy friend of the South African girl we met at the monastery popped in to see if there was anyone there he knew, yes us. They were staying at an hotel in the walled town having covered 40 km today.
We went out for a stroll early evening to the town. We were able to walk round the top of the walls for about half the perimeter, giving us good views of the surrounding countryside and some nice hills in the distance. The town itself within the fortifications wasn't anything special just the typical Spanish houses with narrow lanes. There were a couple of bell towers on churches with the usual storks nesting but when we came down from the walls we found as usual the churches locked. By this time it had begun to get cold and there seemed to be some rain in the air, so we headed back to the albergue.
For dinner we headed to the bar just around the corner and was joined by the EnglishAmerican. The meal wasn't the best we have had, a Spanish type pizzas then fish with lots of garlic. The sweet was nice, an apple sponge. Our companion was quite good company and we talk of the many walks we have both done. We were back and in to our bunks by 9:30pm.
The albergue was now full, with a lot of cyclists having arrived late. The worst about bikers is they tend to stay up later and we had one here who had the TV on loud in the lounge which wakened me at 11:00pm. I got him to turn it down and there wasn't any argument, fortunately. All the albergues seem to have TV sets for some reason, but this has been the first time anybody has bothered turning it on.
Via de la Plata
Friday 13 April 2012
Day 17
Galisteo to Hostal Asturias, Jarilla. 30km.
I slept quite well but was awake at 5:30am, I waited for fifteen minutes before getting up and quietly made myself a cup of coffee in the lounge. At 6am I gave Moira a shake and she came through and we had breakfast and were packed before most people were up. We were out and on the trail an hour later. The 11km to Carcaboso along the tarred road that put us off continuing yesterday turned out to be not so bad. It was a quiet country road with very little traffic and it was flat. The surroundings were beautiful wooded fields and the trees were full of birds entertaining us with their morning chorus. It was cold as usual but the sky was clear and it promised to be a lovely day for a walk. A guy followed us out of the town, obviously he wasn't certain of the route and we spoke to him as we made our way along the lane. He looked like a hippy with long dreadlocks, his English was good and he said he was from Estonia. He had been on the road walking for a year and had spent the night in a picnic area in his tent, he couldn't afford the albergue at the exorbitant cost of E7!!
About half way to Carcaboso we passed a French couple stopped for a rest at the road side, they must have stayed elsewhere, but we were surprised a little later when we overtook Jorge. We thought he was still in bed at the hostel but he must have slipped out while we were busy finishing our packing. Carcaboso was the ideal town for the Camino, we just turned a corner and there it was, not a place you normally see while still 4km away. Also after about 100metres into the town there was the albergue, 'Señora Elena', that we had intended staying yesterday, before the change of plan,next to the bar,'Ruta de la Plata'. This bar was mentioned in Cicerone as the place to arrange accommodation at the Hostal Asturias, which we preferred to the alternative of the albergue at Olivia, a walk of 6km 'off route' on tar. Señora Elena herself was serving in the bar and after ordering coffee tried unsuccessfully to explain that we wanted her to phone the hostal. Luckily Jorge arrived at that point and he happily made the booking using his phone, we bought him his breakfast as a reward. The arrangement is that when we reach the Roman arch at Caparra to phone the hostal and they would come out to pick us up. We would worry when we got there about making the actual call.
Señora Elena was a bit of a fuss pot and was very concerned that we found the correct route. She had prepared a hand drawn map which she gave me, it had a deviation that she assured us that was shorter. She even walked with our 'group', which now included the French couple we passed earlier on the road and Jorge, for nearly a kilometre to ensure our safe departure. Even with all this assistance Jorge, who had got out in front, took the official route instead of her detour and we had to call him back. Her unofficial Camino was a straight track instead of a wide loop and made up for some of the extra kilometres that the detour yesterday caused.
When we were on the waymarked Camino again it was the best walking and scenery we have had so far. The narrow path which was originally the Roman road was naturally straight and made its way through wooded meadows, while in the distance was a backdrop of some high mountains. The day had now warmed up and the grazing cattle had decided to take a break from eating and relax under the cool shade of the trees. There was a signpost with information about this Roman road and examples of milestones along this section, but although we looked closely failed to see them. Our 'group' had split up but we kept passing each other as rests were taken at different times. When we were having our lunch stop Jorge came along and joined us, he said that he had decided to go to the Hostal Asturias as well, instead of the albergue at Olivia. That solved the phoning problem and we arranged to meet at the Roman arch and all get a lift there together.
When we reached Venta Quemada, an isolated house at the side of the road that went down the 6km to Olivia, the French couple headed there, while Jorge and us went straight on. The 6km to the Roman arch were through some more extremely beautiful countryside as the path made its way along a wide grassy passage between two drystone walls. In the distance to the east we could see the range of mountains, Seirra de Gredos, where some high peaks with snowy white caps could be seen. The going was very good and we covered this section in just over an hour and had a seat to admire the Roman arch while waiting Jorge to catch up. The Camino passed under the arch which resembles a mini Arc de Triomphe, in the adjacent fields there were the excavations of the surrounding ancient city. These remains were all fenced off, but Cicerone says that you are able to walk round them from the visitors centre, which wasn't signposted anywhere. Jorge arrived a few minutes after us and made the phone call and it was an opportunity for lots of photographs while we waited the transport.
It was an exception to the normal Spanish attitude of 'mañana', the car, a comfortable Merecedes people carrier, arrived in fifteen minutes and we were being dropped off at the Hostal Asturias shortly after. It drove along a road more or less parallel to the Camino then about 2 km away from the route to the village of Jarilla on the N630. In the morning we will just have the short distance to walk on the road to meet the Camino, it will be cheating a little as we will be about five or six kilometres further on from the arch.
The hostal was fairly basic but we had a double room where we dumped our bags and had a nice hot shower. Lunches had finished at 4pm and the dining room didn't re-open until 9pm for diner, we sat in the bar and drank coffee and wine with Jorge and the French guy who took the taxi to Caceres the other day because he had miscalculated his hotel booking. The late meal was in the company of truck drivers who stopped there from the nearby motorway. The meal wasn't the best we have had, salad and trout, and it was the latest that we have gone to bed in a long time.
Via de la Plata
Saturday 14 April 2012
Day 18
Hostal Asturias, Jarilla to Banos de Montemayor. 20km
Last night I was reading that today's stage was impassable after a period of heavy rain. I looked out the window and said to Moira that there were clouds gathering and jested that it could rain. I should have kept my mouth shut as it poured down during the night. Everyone staying at the hostal left at the same time and were all kitted out in their rain gear and ponchos. It was dry when we started but there were still dark clouds about, the peaks of the Sierra de Gredos so clear yesterday were shrouded in mist.
To get back on to the Camino we didn't go back the way he drove us down last night, but Jorge had information that if we went straight along the N630 after a couple of kilometres we would pick up the yellow arrows. It was good starting off on the road and a firm surface after the rain until we warmed up, though when we reached the gravel and clay surface of the route it wasn't bad. There were only a few short sections where the trail was flooded and we had to gingerly make our way around the edges or dance across on convenient stepping stones. The scenery today was still wooded meadows but not as attractive as the section before the Roman arch, it may have been the wet conditions that depressed us somewhat.
It was about 11 km to the next town, Aldeanueva del Camino, and half way there the rain seemed to have definitely stopped and we took off our inconvenient ponchos. This was just tempting our luck as a few minutes later it started again. When we reached the town it was now pouring down and we were on the look out for a bar. The arrows took us away from the main road along a back lane and no obvious shops or signs of life. It looked like another of these now familiar unattractive towns. We headed back to the main road again and found a bar, already there were the French party that left with us earlier. We had a coffee until the rain cleared and now blue sky was actually showing.
We made our way back to the waymarked route through the town centre and found a 'panderia' with only half a baguette left but she sold us what later turned out to be a pie shaped like a Cornish pastie but with a big Spanish sausage inside, it was very nice. From the town centre we had a very pleasant surprise, rather than being the dump we thought it was, Aldeanueva turned out to be a very quaint and beautiful place. We crossed a lovely old bridge over the Rio Jerte and along a street with balconies on all the first floor houses, past a church with an old style water well outside. Some of the houses had the balconies decorated with brilliant red geraniums and one even had a grape vine trained through the balcony railings.
Very soon this delightful interlude ended and it was 10km on the narrow hard shoulder of the N630 to Banos de Montemayor. We did have a relief of one kilometre on a nice off road track through the trees but soon it was back to the side of the main road. We caught up with Jorge, who kept to the main road through Aldeanueva and hadn't discovered its hidden wonders, and together headed for the albergue. It was attached to a Via de la Plata culture centre but the 'hospitalier' wasn't due to open it for another fifteen minutes. The receptionist for the cultural side stamped our credentials and we wandered round the visual displays and waited. He arrived at the same time as the French group and then proceeded to talk and talk and talk. We couldn't understand but gathered he was explaining how to get on the route tomorrow and where to go for something to eat. Once these Spanish start talking they go on and on and on, with everyone joining in. My blood was beginning to boil and I was screaming to myself, 'just give me my bed and do all the talking later. There was the thing again about segregating married couples and we were in a small dorm with two double bunks and two single beds, we took bottom ones each and nobody complained. The warden also went on about the supply of hot water, there wasn't a big capacity in the tank so to just have a quick one. This time we waited until late afternoon after all the others were finished having ours, the water was fine, and we don't have half hour sessions like some. I can't figure out the rules and regulations that some of these officious characters enforce, they treat everyone like school kids and the Spanish and French seem to put up with it. Also why they had to have a separate person to deal with the albergue when the culture centre receptionist was sitting doing nothing all the time we were there. One wonders if the economy is in as bad state as we are led to believe. After all this hassle we then discovered there wasn't a kitchen, we would have been better going to a hostal or pension again and also had more privacy.
We had our lunch, I had the flask filled before leaving this morning, so there was hot coffee and tea with our pastie we bought earlier. Later we walked through the town and also checked out places to eat tonight. They all varied in opening times from 7pm to 9pm, but were all the same price for a 'menu' meal, we will go for the 7pm opening. It was raining on and off during our stroll but luckily we remembered to our ponchos with us.
Our dinner in the evening was very good and we were joined by a German guy, Stephan, that we have been saying 'Ola' to along the Camino. He was enjoyable company and a strong walker, having done 40km today. He had tried to get into the albergue this afternoon but it was locked up for siesta. He was at the door with a couple of cyclists and they phoned the hospitalier who told them that they were full. This is terrible service as there was only seven of us staying there. He got a room at a pension instead, and it had a microwave for only a few Euros more. For our meal, Moira had soup and I tried the pasta salad to start then we both had pork fillets and chips, finishing with ice cream and cream caramel. While we were eating it was raining heavily again but we managed to get back to the albergue between showers.
The hospitalier gone 'off duty' at 5pm and left instructions that if anyone goes out to lock the door, we were all issued with keys. If anyone arrived late there was no way to get in, so we knew when we returned there wouldn't be any new arrivals, so we had the small six bedded dorm to ourselves. We both had single beds, very comfortable and slept very well.
Via de la Plata
Sunday 15 April 2012
Day 19
Banos de Montemayor to Fuenterroble de Salvatierra. 32km
It turned out not too badly here, we did have privacy and were able to have breakfast in the seclusion of our small dorm and not disturb anybody. We were packed up and on our way without seeing any other sign of life in the albergue. It was 7am and still a bit dark as we searched for the way through the narrow lanes of the old town to the Camino. After a few wrong turns and asking directions we were climbing up the 'paved' Roman road to a col between two high peaks. Not far away we could see lorries on the motorway slowly grinding their way up the steep incline as well. This climb took us to an altitude of over 900 metres and we were walking at 'Munro' level nearly all day.
When we set out it was cold but there wasn't a wind blowing so it was still comfortable. But as we got to the top of the col the wind picked up and it was freezing. I had socks on my hands but they were still frozen and numb, we stopped and put on our ponchos to protect us from the wind chill; this did help and even though it was warmer when the sun came out we still kept them on all day, it was absolutely bitter. Once over the col we had left the province of Extremadura and had entered Castilla y Leon but it got colder. At that time Stefan,
who dined with us last night, caught up and we walked together for a while, he was astonished at us walking in shorts in such cold conditions, we said it was supposed to be sunny Spain.
From the col the route dropped down into a beautiful wooded valley then started a long climb up the other side to the village of Calzada de Bejar, where we had hoped for a coffee stop but there was nothing open. We met Stephan there who had pulled ahead and had already been in search for a bar, unsuccessfully. We had a break anyway on the church steps for an apple which we managed to buy yesterday in a supermarket in Banos. We didn't hang about too long in the near Arctic conditions.
To the next town of Valverde de Valdelacasa, it was 9km and it was pleasant walking on a nice flat gravel path that stretched straight in front of us, it was a Roman road of course, with what looked like the original milestones not the replicas. I wasn't feeling very happy, my hands were so cold it was difficult to take photographs and the cold wind didn't ease up even with the sun coming out. When we reached the tow it looked dead with no sign of a bar or life. We were nearly through and out the other end when we came to one, Stefan was on his way out as we went in. It didn't look much of a place, the Bar Jose, but it had a pot bellied stove belting out heat and we gathered around it with our coffee and a hamburger. The woman was very friendly and was another that made a comment about our shorts and bare legs; 'sin pantaloon'. She insisted in putting her 'bar stamp' on our credentials before we set off and wished us 'Buen Camino'
We were both feeling so much better after our hot drink and food, and we're able to stride out strongly up a tarred lane for the few kilometres to Valdelacasa, where we were going to stop there for another coffee but the trail didn't go into the village,so we gave it a miss and pushed on the last 10km on a nice level track to our destination of Fuenterroble and the albergue. It was a church refugio and when we went in Stefan was at a big table with others where they were having a huge meal together. We asked for the albergue and the hospitaliser led us through to another building with the dorm. The Danish couple who we haven't seen since Caceres were there and we got two bottom bunks beside them. They didn't know about a kitchen or eating or anything,and as the other people in the dorm were having siesta we decided to go out for a coffee at a bar.
On the way out we looked into the room where Stephan was eating and the hospitalier dragged us in, sat us down at the table and proceed to supply us with soup, ribs, salad, cheese, pie, an orange and a cup of coffee. Stefan said that he had just come up from the dorm to get his card stamped and he was plied with food as well. We got the impression that this is repeated later for dinner. After all this food was cleared away others arrived, the French couple who went to Olivia the other day, a few other familiar faces and from the dorm the Danish couple and the grumpy French Iron Man; they had all missed out on a great spread.
We were kicked out of the dining room while they cleaned and we went back to the dorm and under a cover to keep warm. Somebody said that the water in the showers wasn't very warm, so we did without. Later I wandered over to the dining room again where there was a warm log fire burning and I was able to make coffee in the kitchen. We sat there and read until 8:00 when the hospitalier and his assistant arrived with loads more of the same as we had for lunch. All the French late arrivals were there and Stefan was there for seconds as well as us. I don't know what happened to our Danish friends but they missed out yet again. I haven't eaten so much in a long time, all this walking has me permanently hungry; I hope I'm not putting on any weight.
My views on efficiency.
A well lubricated machine or engine runs smoothly and efficiently without any hassle or excessive use of energy. A good hospitalier or warden if he runs his albergue efficiently will not require to expend much time or energy. The church albergue at Fuenterroble is a
perfect example; the hospitalier didn't bother giving us instruction in a language he knew we didn't understand. As soon as we arrived he indicated to follow him to the dorm where he pointed to the beds, triplet and showers then left us to get on with it. Later he happily supplied food for lunch and dinner and all this was for a donation. As regards registering and credential stamping everyone filled their names etc in the visitors book and stamped their own cards. I don't know about the others but we were extremely happy and satisfied. Compare this with a few other places we have stayed with their rules and regulations that the warden has to recite in a foreign tongue before you are allowed to get to your bed which must first be allocated.
Anyone reading this blog and intending to walk the Via de la Plata be sure to spent a night at the albergue in Fuenterroble. If you are looking for an excellent hospitality and Christian spirit you will find it there.
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