Ever onward!

Today's walk from Pola de Allande to La Mesa was just great! 24 K, adequately challenging....e.g., to begin with, a steep, steady 2 plus hour climb....to be interesting and except for the last 2 K, no road walking. Hard work, gorgeous scenery, perfect weather, and all on just a few hours sleep.

I am the fattest slug in the kingdom:



I am the longest:



I am the most enterprising:




The iPhone is not great for views, but here is an attempt:






A sweet bridge in need of repair:





Did you forget about me???? Fat, long, and enterprising. I am the most beautiful slug in the kingdom:




We don't want that slate to blow away:




Sorry! Just can't help it!





It is more stunning than this, much more:



This afternoon I had to do something I hate: make a phone call. But do it I had to for I was scheduled for a taxi transfer from La Mesa back to Pola de Allande (back again in the a.m.), there being no accommodations in La Mesa. In fact there is very little in La Mesa. The guide book claims it has a population of thirty three, but since publication, it seems as if thirty have moved away. There is a 15th century church there, though, the construction of which is impressive. Anyway, the town prior to La Mesa, Berducido, is where you stock up on supplies. It has a couple of bars, and a grocery store that is similar to a seven-eleven. I went into a bar, ordered an Aquarius (orangeade) and tried to use my phone. Nada. I tell the bartender, a young man with many facial piercings, my plight. He directs me to a huge pay phone in the bar. I try to use it. Nada. Of course! It requires money. If you are not over six feet tall, you would not be able to insert a coin. I ask the bar tender for help again. Somewhat annoyed, although there are no other customers requiring his services, he inserts the coin. Nada. I ask him if he will make the call for me on his cell for which I will pay him. He is not interested in this deal. He tells me that if I go to the end of the town, I might get a signal. "Is the end of town far?" I ask. "A kilometer?" "No," he replies and points. I go. It is about ten steps. At last I contact the travel agency and the very sweet woman who is my liaison, arranges the pick up. All in Spanish, BTW.

The ride, about forty-five minutes was torture. Windy roads all the way, but I did learn a new word, "marearse." It refers to either seasickness or carsickness.

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