Spain - Day 3: Middle of Nowhere to Collado de Urballo

Sunny Spain

The weather in Spain is not always as advertised. Apparently Spain is not just sun, sand and sea.

They (whoever They are) are lying to us.

And these clouds were obviously very far away from their natural home on the plain.




But it is very pretty. Even these little hills. The warm up before the mountains are beautiful.

The old villages are, well, old. But they are well kept and definitely worth a visit if you are around.

Rucksack guard

We reached Elizondo (a song by Madonna?) - and went shopping. Our calorific intake has gone through the roof.

We have no cooking ability so are only eating cold stuff. And visiting restaurants, to better experience local culture.

So far it has been sort of easy. I mean we have walked up and down but nothing too serious. Look at him - does he look tired? Sunburned yes, but tired no.

Not yet.

We set off, after lunch, a  delicious meal of succulent Spanish sausage and fantastic Spanish bread, with renewed enthusiasm. Everything was new and exciting. We were actually walking in Spain. We have survived into Day 3.

Not lost, just not where we thought we were.

Above: The Troops

The rolling hills were rolling and green and verdant - so the clouds obviously holidayed here a lot. But at the moment they were just sussing out the area and no rain action yet. Our goal was Collado de Urballo, just a place with a name and apparently nothing else. But can't complain;

a) this is what we came for,

b) it does no good

c) no-one listens

The hills and the forest manged to disorientate us enough so that we overestimated how far we had walked. Nothing to do with wishful thinking I assure you.  Nothing to do with our unfitness.

A random view

It was beautiful - but in a very English sort of way. We had to keep reminding ourselves that these were foothills.

Foothills of some real mountains which were looming. In our way. Somewhere over the horizon. Not , as they say, in Kansas.

Even the weather was very English too. But we had been warned. the guide book is very specific on the general dampness of this part of Spain. We next to the Atlantic after all.

Enjoying the dampness

We had noticed that we were being followed. This was not quite what we had expected from this quiet part of Spain. It was a bit un-nerving. But we had all noticed - there was no denying it.

The vultures were circling us.

Not metaphorically.

Literally.

We had thought that we were, sort of, fit, (at least not near death). But these birds that live from spotting the weak, the dying and the dead obviously had different ideas.

We were walking up a forest path, me in my usual place following up at the rear (hiding my heavy breathing). All of a sudden there was a loud noise and a shout from the front. 

Vultures - just waiting...

We has stumbled into a vulture ambush. The are hunters now it seems - evolution at work. Hundreds of them had been waiting but somehow my daughter had managed to scare them away. Karate classes obviously worked. They now filled the sky, circling overhead looking hungry, looking hungrily at us.  

We watched in awe - never having seen real live wild vultures before. Then we turned around and saw that it was not us they were waiting for. And breathed collective sighs of relief.

We had interrupted dinner.

Dinner (recycling)

Being on the continent, dinner wasn't beef - but horse. (England used to be the same - not so long ago).

Eventually, the flies became too much and we had to move on. The Mediterranean was still waiting - a long, long way away - but calling to us non-the-less.

We eventually got to a hunters cabin in the woods. In the book but we had thought (hoped) that we'd get further.  There was a Spanish guys camped there already but we squeezed our little tents in. Conversation was hard but we conversated as best we could.

We ate a delicious meal of succulent Spanish sausage and fantastic Spanish bread. 

And went happily (apart from the cold and impending rain) to sleep.