29/05/2024 – Walking the walk 8

Day 14 – It was good to be back on the trail again today. The Meseta is flat open country, deeply fertile, sprouting windmills, but, for a walker, without shade or much of a breeze.

When we finished on Sunday, I actually felt “irradiated” by the sun. I spent several hours of the evening “re-radiating”, as if I were a black body, until I was able to sleep. I was in long sleeves, long pants, hat today.

We fell in with a Navy veteran, who regaled us with tales of the Portuguese and Norte routes. I completely understand why people keep returning: the physical highs and lows; the social interest and approbation; the sense of accomplishment… It is also a luxury: a prodigal use of time to do only what you choose and step out of “real life” with its requirements. It’s an astonishing privilege to simplify life like this.

Our new shoes are game changers. We are tired, yes, but no new blisters or bruises. We arrived at Hornillos del Camino around 1pm and settled into the town square (with beer) to await our ride to Isar, about 3km away, where we (and our clothes) are now showered and resting. They drop us back to the trail tomorrow to continue on our way.

Day 15 – an evening of good cheer was had at the communal table yesterday, mostly due to Carey kicking me under the table, and my paying heed. One of our companions opined about how the US subsidises Europe in military and pharmaceuticals. NO, Europe buys American product with tax money. American corporations make huge amounts from them AND from the US taxpayer, who finance the American military-industrial complex AND the inefficiency and greed in the American “multi-payer” medical system, the most expensive in the world. Then, he started quoting Schumpeter at me… A good kick in the shins was needed. Anyhow, as humans they were a lovely couple. We found topics that we could enjoy discussing.

We beat the heat today, arriving around 12:45pm, passing the time till check-in with a cold beer. Just as well, it’s 27 degrees outside.

The Maseta has a stop-animation quality: the stems of the drill-planted crops have a strobing effect; as do the stately circles of the wind turbines. Adding to the strangeness, I saw a Little Owl.

Now I am just delighted by the poppy fields (rather than overwhelmed), I notice there are 3 kinds of poppies. The Common Poppy is a glossy crimson, with nested petals like a cup. Its petals have a black/white smear at the bottom, so they open with a smudged eye, complete with extravagant false-lash stamens. The Long-Headed Poppy is more spindly, scarlet and papery, with a simple button eye. The Rough Poppy is scrawny, with four, splayed petals like a Maltese cross. Together, they make a carpeted field. I even saw a single white poppy sport today – hastag “camino”, hashtag “grow your own way” (with apologies to Fleetwood Mac).