Ventas de Zafaraya to Riogordo, April 30

A long day, about 15 miles, with two major technical difficulties.  but we will get to that.  First, one starts out by going through a tunnel:

And emerging:

Another beautiful morning, crisp and cool; the mist had not yet risen from the mountains:

Along the way, were some impressive-looking fowl:

                

And a baby burro:

And, of course, the Mysterio del Día:

  

First big problem was at a large group of boulders.  On one, painted in large, red letters, PRIVADO accompanied by one of those do-not-go-this-way signs.  So where then?  I tried going up a suspicious looking and very rocky rise.  That could not be right.  Tried again and again.  But, behold, the climbing was not for naught because from the height I could see the path going right beside the mega-rocks, partly hidden by them.  So much for PRIVADO!  That cost about 20 minutes.

Then there was a stream to cross on stepping stones only there were none.  Maybe in August but not now.  Lots of long, stringy, mossy growths under the water meant very slippery.  There was only one thing to do:  take off boots and socks and wade across.  So with boots around neck and socks in waist pack, I plunged in like our intrepid ancestor Nachshon crossing the Sea of Reeds,  but unlike him, I had a slip and fall.  A pole started to drift away.  Catch it!  Then I thought oh, no, my devices, are they ruined?  They were not!  Somehow, picked myself up, made it to the other side, and up a skinny, steep embankment.  A voice: "In 150 feet turn right."  At least I was in the right place.  Using the fabric case of my sunglasses, I dried off my feet, got shod, and continued on only to have some significant pain in a toe.  It is swollen and foot is bruised....we'll see.

There was not a huge amount of uphill today, but most of what there was came near the end, just when you really wish it wouldn't because by then it is hot!  Finally reached Riogordo where I switched to Google Maps to find hotel, but could not. Asked several people, no one could help.  Finally, I saw a man coming out of a house, asked him, and he asked me, "Las Belgas?"  Huh?  "Las Belgas?"  Finally, I realized if he was asking if the people who owned the hotel were Belgian and I remembered from the reservation-making process that they were!  Sí, sí!  And you know what?  He drove me!  It was not that far away, but set back about 2/10 of a mile from the road, I never would have found it. (Google Maps is not infallible.) The place, El Molino de Tablas, is gorgeous.  It is like staying in an exquisite park with lush plantings, a maze of terraces, and walkways.  I had no desire to go into town!  Well, only to determine where tomorrow's route starts and luckily, it is close by.

The drama continues, however, because I got an e-mail from Jesús, the proprietor of last night's pension, informing me that I had left without paying!  I thought booking.com had already charged me, since that is their custom, but they had not.  How to get Jesús his €20?  I figured that out with Peggy, the Belga!!  Disaster averted!