September 21: The start of fall

We did a lot of loitering today, trying to stretch its 19km into mid-afternoon. Everything pretty much conspired to see us bouncing, still full of verve, into the hamlet of Calzedilla de la Cueza, which is our rest stop, around 1pm. We had tried to loiter over breakfast, but the “in-pick-a-tray-out” ethos of the bar where we had a voucher pushed us through in about 20 minutes. Our bags had to be ready for collection by 8am, so, no joy there either. Carey stopped to drone three separate times. We nursed our mid-walk coffee until it was well past warm.

We are staying in a busy hostel, which also serves as the main Sunday lunch venue for the hamlet. Driven inside by the surprisingly hot sun, we tried to enjoy what was left of our post-hike beers in an atmosphere of perfumed soap and celebrity fragrances that coated our throats, choking out the smell of roasting meats from the dining room.

I am moaning, in a very uncharitable, un-pilgrim-like way. We were allowed to check-in well before the official 3:30pm window. Our bags had made it ahead of us. The beer (Radler, “con limon”) was crisp and refreshing in a frosted glass. The whole hamlet is suffering with a water outage that renders showering impossible, but the day was brisk, even cold, and neither of us are feeling too sweaty. And, I did manage to get our socks washed in a small bowlful a couple of hours ago. If this is the worst the day has to throw at us, then we are doing alright.

Today is the last day of summer. We really felt the chill in the air setting off this morning, and again, as the rain came through. It’s been 10 degrees C cooler than the last few days. Given the water situation, that is a blessing.

And, the sky… The sky has been astonishing today. Bands of rain rolled through, creating skyscapes of snub-nosed, flat-bottomed clouds, cruising in a sky, four separate shades of blue. The clouds were both idling like buses in a terminal, and roiling and billowing. Between them, the sun blazed through, was then smothered, then blazed through again. The clouds had a theatrical quality, layered in colour, texture, giving the sky a palpable depth as well as its glorious expanse. The cropped fields were striped with glowing areas of light and cloud-thrown shadow. It was such a dynamic, immersive display, it would be impossible not to be both impressed and mesmerized as the light interacted with the rows and curves of stubble, and the yellowing trees.

All this sky-ness has crowded out thoughts of yesterday, which was a dry, warm, bouncy day in which we very much were, both in place and time. It was a comfortable walk that raised no issues, and few highlights – perfect in many ways. The Mesetas, on a warm, quiet day, are a tranquil canvas over which to stretch both body and spirit.