As wonderful a relaxation as it was for me to stay here, awash with dreams of dancing the night away in Sandras arms, I knew that the road was calling. I said my goodbyes, and left the waystop, a new spring in my step, which kept me going for some distance, before the tiredness came again. And out there on the way to Arcos de la Frontera, where Hell had become a passage to Heaven, I found myself on the slippery slope down once more, the fires being stoked for my soul. Leaving at 7.30pm to walk another 20km´s was without doubt, one of the stupidest things I have ever done. I found another refreshment stop at a Venta along the road, a couple of cold Cokes to perk up my energy and I was off again, aware that nightfall was fast approaching. Here the road passed under another hyway, between San Jose del Valle and Jerez de la Frontera. I wished I was on my way to either, by public transport. The road ahead was so straight I could see at least the first 5km´s in the distance. As I reached the point on the hill I had previously spied some time ago, the darkness was finally taking over. I was walking on unlit hyways, where cars were passing ferociously fast, not expecting to see anything pedestrian, except the odd rat or snake... I have a head torch, so found it out amongst my stuff, finally giving in to not being able to see in the dark. I also enjoyed briefly the opportunity to remove my hot boots. Walking for so long on sun heated roads, was both tiresome and increasing the risk of stress injury. The torch worked well, it has a strobe function, so as to preserve the battery, and appear more observable. When I put my boots back on, I could hardly stand. I was tottering about like a penguin. I knew that my blisters were coming up, but could do nothing about it here, the pain more of a dull ache in the soles of my feet. With nowhere to go but the road ahead, or the kerbside, where snakes do their rattling around during the wee small hours, I forged on. Arcos was definately closer, one more hour I guessed. Apart from the sheer beauty of the walks across Andalucia, which was lost on me now in the dark, my other past time had been the arithmatic. The working out of speeds, distances, and road left, from road covered, computing in my head constantly. A throwback to being Asbergic, I guessed.......
I reached Junta de los Rios at about 11pm. All evidence, due to my calculations were, that I should be in Arcos by now. The Spanish authorities, must have altered all of the road signs recently, because apparently Arcos was still some 6km´s away !!!! Either a huge conspiracy was underway or I was walking far slower that I had expected to be. I had made fairly good progress this morning, and had been almost sprinting in comparison, after seeing angels. Yet here I was with a choice. It´s great to have choice ! Find a hostel here, or go on. The lights were friendly, burning bright in a Venta on the main road, and I was about to give it up for the day, when I heard someone mention ´Pilgrims`, and the ´Camino de Santiago`.
In the front garden of a house, a family were taking the night air, and chatting, surprised to see me passing no doubt. I replied instantly with a greeting and spent a few minutes in conversation responding to their enquiries. Some sort of foolish pride must have gripped me, as I continued on along the road and out of the peaceful village. After another few, slow kilometres, when the barking of dogs had died down, I suddenly felt a most excruciating pain, below the toes on my left foot. JESUS CHRIST ! I thought that I had stepped on a nail, as the pain tore straight through me. I cried out in the wilderness, the open darkness carrying my scream, but to no-one hear except the roadkill. I paused for a minute maybe two, knowing it had only been a blister exploding, yet unsure if I could go on anymore. But I was somewhere, possibly half way between Junta and Arcos. I knew that if I stopped for more than a few brief minutes I would not be able to go on, so adopted a way of scrunching my toes up, to lesten the obvoius discomfort. My right foot seemed in surprisingly good shape comparatively, yet the knee on this leg was suffering more than the left. I swear that if you could have seen me, I would have made an amusing sight. Hobbling along like a penguin through the night, my torch flashing repeatedly in tandem with my movements.
At about 1am I finally had to sit down, having beaten several summits, each out doing the previous, overlooking the town of Arcos, about 1km away. By now I was hardly able to worry about snake attacks, over the severe cramps and the blisters. I still had some water, the preparations well suited to the jouney. The town shone like a jewel in the night, across the valley between us. I realised gratefully, that I would not, (if I ever moved on from here) have to go down all the way into the valley to enter the town, a high connection visible to my left. At about 1.30am I finally reached the destination of my days walk, almost on all fours. I had forgotten the idea of accomodation at this point, choosing the nearer Mirador (Lookout point) to the right of the entrance to this town. The benches looked soft enough to this weary pilgrim. I was too hot to care about getting cold during the rest of the night. I realised that this last push, had taken about 30 minutes to cover what I would normally have done in less than 10 minutes.
My feet gave way as I lay me down to sleep, and dreams came thick and fast, I had reached Arcos !
George, Camino Buddies has enjoyed your posts ... yea, don't stop blogging. Buen Camino!
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