I`LL CATCH YOU UP

Staying here in Villafranca, was a lovely way to relax. There was not a typical Albergue here, a few hotels and a pension.One hostal, that had four beds per room, similar to the normal routine had space, and a kitchen, washing machine internet facility and great hot water showers. Everything and more a pilgrim could need. It was however one of the more pricey of venues to date but not absurdly high. During the afternoon out shopping, searching for somethings to make a meal back at the hostal, I met the Australian girl again. She like most of us had begun alone, but gotten caught up in the movement of walking in a group, where the people all seemed to follow a similar rhythm, and by nightfall all arrive to the same town. We joked about how she kept finding me turning up where she also happened to be !! I promise I was not stalking her !! Funny, I thought it was my aftershave that kept drawing her to me......

We returned to the hostal together with our provisions and the idea to put together a small meal, talking about how everyone today had seemed disjointed in their arrival times andd eating patterns, which had made it almost impossible to organise a group meal. A few of the group must have also had the same thought because all of a sudden there were lots of people with stuff to prepare, so we did almost have a group meal. Everyone shared waht we had and soon the wine was flowing and the beer uncapped. By sunset the small group, sharing our meagre provisions watched the sun setting, out on the open patio. Again this was a lovely trigger for my memories of eating with the Kings of Leon, and new pilgrims, so many times on the road to Santiago.

By the time I rose in the morning everyone had gone, set off on the long hike across the plains. Only Carl remained. He was a Dutchman, and for some reason seemed to have walked so many caminos, including parts of France, Germany, Rome, and even some of Morroco. Up to now he claimed to have walked some 2500km`s, and was presently walking like me, to Santiago. One thing was obvious, he liked walking !!! Unlike most of the other pilgrims he seemed happy to walk only in jeans and a teeshirt, I presently needed the feel of cool air around my legs, the days were very warm. After setting out finally we met in a bar opposite, for the constitutional coffee. He liked about three or four before he set off for the day, and I also sensed that he wanted a bit of solitude, so said I would possibly see him sometime later in the day. As I headed off, he shouted after me, " I`ll catch you up !"
I wondered if he was some kind of speeding bullet, my rhythm was quite strong at the moment. I did like to take a few breaks during the walk to appreciate the nature around me, whenever the mood took me. If the scenery was particularly breathtaking I would sit for a while to breath it all in.
I made sure I carried some provisions with me today, as apparently there was a national strike. In fact I had almost taken the day off in support, when the hostal owner told me about the huelga general. Apparently it was a national walkers strike.... Isobel later clarified that she had meant it was a national workers strike, her English pronunciation throwing me into some confussion.....

During the morning walking, I seemed to catch, and overtake all the pilgrims from the previous evenings  accomodations. My bag the heaviest it had been for a long time, yet my pace somehow the fastest I had ever walked. Not that my particular desire had been to walk in a hurry, but I was like the TGV, cruising across the caminos of Extremadura. Carl later told me that he had intended to catch me up, but could only find a cloud of dust whipped up as I screamed through the heart of the Sierra Grande. I arrived early afternoon in Torremejia, surprisingly full of energy after such a speedy walk, covering some 30 plus km`s in record times. Only the Older German couple had arrived ahead of me, they would set out at dawn.
This facility like so many others was very plush, Apparently the former residence of some Marquessa of the region. As you expect it carried some of the character of the old days, and lots of pilgrimage symbols, as well as many of the luxuries of modern living. Thanks to good old European funding we pilgrims were able to wallow in luxury for hardly anything.

Whether because of the strike or just a local lack of interest, there were no restaurants open this evening. The huge band of pilgrims had to make do, with a few tapas and bocadillos in cafe Casa Blanca. But despite such meagre choices, everyone found something to eat, and we soon retired to the Ritz for our well earnt rest.