July 29 Lluça to Alpens

Eleven-ish mile walk, neither thrilling nor dull.  But I do think I am beginning to run out of steam.  Maybe it is the weather....heavy air, if you know what I mean.  Anyway, staying at an apartment with all the amenities for two nights. The biggest thrill is the kitchen.  Again, dueño—Joan—gave me eggs, a good thing, because I am sick to death of tuna and sardines.  He will also pick me up in Ripoll tomorrow, which is great, since now I will not have to rendez vous at a prearranged time with  taxi.  In fact, he has been super amable.  Turns out he and his wife, also  muy amable, have a daughter who is finishing up a PhD program in biomedicine at Virginia Tech.  Hola, Nuria (si estás leyendo ésto).

This being a slow news day, let me just note that I have yet to see a single postcard for sale.

¡Hola!  See that horse in the background?

I think they like each other:

Startled to see a first sign of autumn at the end of July:

The mountains are still in view:

This was described as a fortified farm:

July 28 Gironella to Lluça

Gironella and Lluça are the start and end points of  this stage.  Since it is over 30k,  I took the recommended taxi to Odan, about 4k from Gironella and made it about 1/3 of the way to Lluça.  Here is what happened.  A couple of hours after a lovely start, on a cool morning, on a path just challenging enough to make you really focus, there was a T intersection.  GPS, ViewRanger, instructions, and common sense all said "turn left," after which you would make a three corner turn and be on your way to Sagas.  But the sign planted in the ground with the GR1 stripes, said "turn right," which made no sense at all.  This would be like driving north up Whitney to Quinnipiac when you wanted to go  south to Yale.  So first I explored the "sensible option."  After the short, initial segment, there was no path, just thick bushes.  Then I started to go the other way thinking I could cut back and meet the path further on.  By means of a long detour, I did just that, but at the "further on" place, again, no possible passable path.  I spent an hour and a half searching for a way to cut across where I knew one needed to go, but other than two big Xs (not this way) there was nothing.  Had I not tried to meet up with the path by means of that long detour, I would have had to walk miles on two highways.  Truly something was wrong, and this is one time I am quite sure it was not my ineptitude.  There was no option except to backtrack to Odan, a little more difficult to do than it sounds.  Once there, at about 1:00, I implored a nice lady in a bar to call a taxi to take me to Lluça. Disappointing experience, and so much for the relatively easy final section. The fortunate part is that there was a town to go back to that actually had people in it so that you knew you would not be stranded.

Looking back at Gironella minus the haze:

Dew coated moss balls:

Like a treasure hunt looking for the waymarks to get through this section.  Fun!!

Taxista Dani Bonet who wants you to know that he is inteligente y guapo:

Bedroom window (one of the few, so far, with a screen) in Lluça:

July 27 l'Espunyola to Gironella

Taxista picked me up at 6:00 to take me just a couple of miles to l'Espunyola—because hotel, very nice hotel, I must say— was off route—then he went on with the bags.  As usual, though, it took forever to find the path, and the many barking dogs pulling at their chains did not ease the task.  But I was a woman on a mission because I knew that Gironella had a sporting goods store, where I was hoping I could replace HAT, and a major grocery store, and you know that everything closes either at 1:00, 1:30 or 2:00 and may or may not reopen at 5:00 or 5:30.  Also, thunder storms were predicted.

Oh, John, as in the writer of the guide book, suggested skipping this stage, since, after the drama of yesterday's stage, it is just "a little dull."  I was thrilled with a little dull.

A little dull?

 It was a pleasant 14.5 mile walk, on good surfaces, with enough directional challenges to keep it interesting.  Well, OK, when I took a wrong dirt road 2/3 through, that cost me a good 1/2 hour, I was not happy.  It wasn't even really a wrong choice, just wrong for this route.

Cemetery.  Visiting hours, 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.

Looks like condos in a park:

Dog not barking:

Neighbour dog barking:

Two doors down, dog also barking:

Move to the side when the big guys come:

 Cow of a different colour (s):

I could hardly wait to get to the sporting goods store here in Gironella.  Four naked mannequins in the window, however, did not make the place look promising.  Let's just say this was not REI. There were maybe six hats total, so I settled for a supremely ugly chartreuse baseball cap.  The guy did use the word, "technical" to describe it.  I think that is because it has some little holes on the sides.

July 26 Masia Pujol to l'Espunyola

Yesterday, when I arrived, plum tuckered out from the effort it took to find the place, I asked  el señor if there was an easier way to get back to the bridge, from which you then take a path to the abandoned church, and from there start the business of the day.  He looked at the trackback line on my GPS, which had dutifully recorded my fruitless attempts, went tsk tsk tsk, no no no, and pointed to this swingy little gate through which I was to go, and then made zig-zag motions with his hand in imitation of the way down, and added that goatherds had added to the path.  Had I not been worn out and the afternoon so hot, I would have rehearsed the instructions, but I could not.

The morning, i.e. at 6:00 a.m. did not start out well.  Guess why?  After about 35 steps, the "path"  became a maze of possibilities. Where are the goatherds now? It took the better part of an hour, much cursing, fighting with scratchy foliage, and, oh, the loss of HAT, probably during a slide down an embankment, which saddened me muchly.  It is not easy to walk east in the morning without a brim—in addition to sunglasses— to shield your eyes from the glare.  Fortunately, there was a slight cloud cover, a fair amount of the walking —climbing would be more precise—was shaded, and it was not brutally hot, just plain hot, only a problem at the end when I had to walk 35 minutes on a major highway to get to my accommodation, where I arrived at 1:30.

The stage today was a stunner, and one I had worried about a lot because not only was it physically demanding, but it had the only section of "exposed walking after which there is a short scramble" on the entire route.  "Exposed walking" is a euphemism for "if you slip here, you won't be talking about it."  And as far as the "short scramble" is concerned, well, since there is no option, you just make yourself do it and hope you get it right.  I was so relieved to have survived the demands to that point, that I celebrated with a tasteless plum and a drink of water.  All I can say is, Thank God for the excellent and frequent placement of red and white stripes, without which I would be lost forever somewhere in the foothill of the Pyrenees.

A bit of haze, but impresionante all the same:

There are valleys, too:

But the mountains seem to go on and on and on.  Truly they are daunting, and you are among them:

Those scarecrows have an important job protecting the weeds:

Oh, yum!

But guess where the grass is greener?

My kitchen:

July 25 El Corriu to Sant LLeir

Dropped off shortly after 6:00—I really don't love these taxi transfers—to begin the walk going in the wrong direction. But it was a lovely diversion zig-zaggging through a pine forest, which really added to a rather so so day. Lots of road walking; too much.  The soles of my boots have barely any tread left, the uppers are pulling away from the bottoms, and the tips of my poles worn through to the metal.  This has never happened before, even on longer walks.  I just hope the boots make it through two more weeks.

Trees not obscuring the view:

VHC:  very hungry cow:

I had paid special attention to getting to the evening's accommodation, but all the extra maps and reading the directions carefully, and using the GPS and View Ranger did not, in the end, help:  "After you cross the bridge, take the track up...." but I did not see any track.   I spent about an hour in the heat, looking for the place, following blue blazes, which, clearly were for something else entirely.  This was very annoying.

Even the dogs agreed:

Yes, and you, too!

July 24 Sant Laurenç de Morunys

Due to the heat, the description and length of the walk meant for today, which, a day later I cannot even remember—but all factors were dissuasive—I decided to do an ida y vuelta (loop walk) from Sant Laurenç.  Six hours, and OK, but nothing really great.

Sometimes the path was rocky with smaller stuff:

And sometimes with bigger stuff:

As the book says, the view is somewhat obscured by trees.  (But then wouldn't trees be your view?)

Then it opens up:

Despite the fact that this section of the route was well waymarked, you could still miss a turn:

(What is going to happen when that tree gets bigger?)

Pregnant goat and friends:

And now, for a bow:

Excellent hotel in Sant Laurenç run by a most excellent, energetic lady.  Hola, Dolores.  Gracias por todo.  I really have met so many kind and generous people on this walk.  But except for the Italian guy back in where-ever-it-was who was not doing my route, I have not met one other walker.  And, in the majority of places I have stayed, I have been the only guest.  

July 23 Oliana to Cambrils

Oliana, despite the lyrical name, is an ugly town, a pathway to Andorra, so big trucks rumble through constantly.  The hotel, right on the highway, had great sound-proofiong windows and air-conditioning.  In fact, it was a really up-market hotel for such a location, and the people running it were very nice.The guy even acted as taxista for Rojita y Mochalita when no other could be found. The wi-fi went out every five minutes, but for that, they are forgiven.

This would have been an excellent day—a start time of 5:40 assured a decent arrival time in Cambrils (so I thought)—had I not had trouble finding my accommodation.  This took an hour, during which time I almost ripped my pants right off crossing a barbed wire fence, since I somehow had ended up in a field where I was not supposed to be, but thought I could get to the road from there. (Couldn't) Then, arrived to cranky lady, who told me most sourly, when I asked if they had any fans, that I had a window, and indeed I do.  It is the size of a postage stamp and the room is very small.  I hope there will be a breeze.

Mountains behind Oliana at 6:00 a.m.

The views were stunning, whether you looked down:

Or ahead:

It was a day of constant climb, as in five hours of climbing, but not so steep that you thought you could not take another step.  

An ermita:

right near which was the sword in the stone:

Two more words of Catalan, and, oh, a moment to express gratitude for the excellent way marking to- day:

Art:

The  mountains are everywhere you look!

July 21and 22 Vilanova de Meia to Masa Masanés to Oliana

Another 5:45 pick-up to return about seven miles to the walk site.  This was a two part walk.  The first part was fairly pleasant on decent track except for the nightmare through the trees where the path had been obliterated by fallen limbs and trunks, oh, and the part that said "cross the valley and go up," but where you go up is your problem.  There are no markers and a valley, is, you know, large.

The second part began at an intersection of two highways.  According to the book, there were two possible routes.  I found neither one.  The one I did find was on my GPS so I took it.  The first half hour or so was fine, rather scenic, in fact, and I was feeling quite accomplished.  Then, for about two and a half hours it was like this:

Sometimes with curves:

Finally, I am within 1/2 a mile or so of my accommodation, the only building for miles around.  The route stops.  The GPS reads "Go!"  There is a fence of electric wire, barbed wire and regular wire.  There is no choice but to cross it.  Two burros were accommodated there:






Finally, I get to a road, but it was not the road I needed to be on.  More transgressions of property defences to gain higher access.  I cannot believe that I actually got to where I needed to be.  It is a lovely place, though, out here in the middle of nowhere.  I can use a huge kitchen and, having noticed a large number of hens as I approached, asked the señora for eggs, which she willingly provided, and for bread: four huge slices. And, oh joy, there is a toaster.  Today's lunch//dinner was way better than dried, reconstituted noodles.

Dudu and I had our last adventure today.  Since he was planning on coming at 6:00 to pick up the bag, I asked if he would drive me to  spot about half way along the route because I knew it was going to be a scorcher.  The problem was that there was not really a road where Google Maps showed one, so we had a lot of hithering and thithering until he finally figured out a way to get there.  Thank God I did that, though because it is over 100 degrees now.  I would have started out fresher had the dogs, many of them, not been woofing and arf arf arfing  at 3:00 a.m.

One roll of hay:

Set in the lowland:

Bridge into Oliana, a rather ugly town with a good supermarket, and nice hotel after you walk the extra 3/4 mile in the heat, laden with your groceries, to get there.