Friday 22nd of April Vistabella de Maestrazgo to Benasal

Last night we lay in bed and listened to the rain pour down. The weather forecast was bad and it seemed unlikely that Christine, without full waterproofs would be able to do today's walk to Benasal. We started thinking about alternatives when we saw the sky start lightening from the South. By half past nine it looked good enough to set off, especially as a kind fellow guest in the Casa Rural had let Christine have her spare poncho mack.

Cloud clinging to the hills

The first part of the walk was a continuation of the upland plain which we had walked through in the rain yesterday afternoon. A strange feature, perhaps the bottom of an ancient glacial lake. Along the track a local farmer had found a new use for empty coke bottles. After about 3 kilometres we turned east and contoured along the side of a pretty gorge gradually gaining height.

Noisy fence

We were walking quickly because we didn't trust the weather and wanted to get to Culla for a late lunch. Despite this we enjoyed a quick sandwich break at the abandoned Ermita de San Bartolome. After more contouring the path dropped down, through some beautiful ancient pasture, to a dried out river bed.

Ermita de San Bartolome

Abandoned village - Casa del Capote

The last stage before lunch involved a 500 metre climb up to Culla. The smell of pigs as you approached from the southwest was sickening and we were thinking we had made a mistake to rush. As usual when you arrive you can't see anyone and you can't believe there will be a bar, never mind somewhere to eat. Actually there were two and we dived into the first as the clouds gathered.

Climbing up to Culla

The restaurant was full of young Spaniards with their children and Christine, who is expecting two grandchildren in the next few months, couldn't stop staring at them. Had a great meal and didn't notice that it was pouring with rain outside until the postres arrived. Tried to stretch things out with extra coffee but in the end we had to go, another hour or two's walking to get to Benasal.

Just as we had finished climbing into our waterproofs the owner of the restaurant asks where we are going and offers us a lift. Seemed unfair to put Christine through 90 minutes of torrential rain on her last day on the GR7 so we accepted and he kindly took us directly to the door at the Hotel la Piqueta.

Tuesday 19th April Montan to Montanejos

Another lost blog. The common link is the dodgy wifi at Montanejos; lovely walk, nice town, great hotel, but dodgy wifi and two lost blogs.

Anyway, let's try a 2nd time..... Tuesday was a relatively short walk. Had plenty of time for a quick look around Montan before we left, particularly the monastery which our hotel was attached to, wonderful building currently being restored.

Montan

Climbed up the road just outside village and then off road and down into a valley. Nothing out of the ordinary but very pleasant.

After climbing up the other side you start to get glimpses of some dramatic cliffs to the north through the trees. After a few kilometres the forest road peters out and turns into a trail. You're then taken around the side of gorge, half way up, on the most dramatic path of the E4 so far. Perfectly safe as long as you're careful but you need a head for hights as your sense of perspective struggles to handle the sheer cliffs above and the huge drops below you. Brilliant scenery.

Barranco de la Maimona

More Barranco

And more Barranco de la Maimona

The path finishes all too soon and it's a short walk down into Montajanos. We stay in the Casa Palacios, a nice hotel built around a Moorish tower next to the church. From our room you had a view of the river which has natural swimming pools amid beds of reeds. Strolling round the town later we saw a fabulous skinny bridge-cum- aqueduct which could take you off on a different GR trail to the South East.

Wednesday 20th April Montanejos to Villahermosa del Rio

Quite a tough walk today, about 30 kilometres and about 1500 metres of climb, Christine has sore feet. One of the things I have to remember is that I'm now ultra acclimatised, have got skin on my feet that a rhinoceros would proud of, but people joining me will not be as toughened up.

Climbing up out of Montanejos

Left Montanejos at about 8.30 fully loaded, too much water and enough food for days. The first thing we had to do was climb out of the valley, up, along and then up again, 500 metres in the first 90 minutes or so. We were surrounded by some dramatic scenery but it was difficult to see through the trees and the low clouds. Having got to the top it was straight back down to the dry river bed just below the village of La Artejuala. We were there by 11 o'clock, and partly to lighten the load, and partly because we were already hungry, we had a huge early lunch. Two lots of salami and tomato sandwiches.

La Artejuela

Forest over abandoned terraces

After that it was along walk up out of the valley still through trees until we hit the road which took us into the small town of San Vicente de Piedrahita. Time to join the locals in the bar and watch some quiz show on the television. After a couple of coffees we decided to leave, we were in danger of getting addicted. Very risqué adverts on Spanish television which English people, in a pub at lunchtime, would find embarrassing but no one blinks here.

Cheered up by the sign that said 2 hours 30 minutes to Villermosa del Rio, the quality of the walking declined dramatically. Although the path was trying to avoid the road the local farmers clearly thought that was where you should be. I was happy to accept the farmers wishes but Christine, whose feet were getting painful, resisted. She was not at all sympathetic when I tripped over an electric fence and fell in a gorse bush.

After the Ermita de San Bartomolome everything improved and although it was getting colder the last hour of the walk was really nice. Lots of Juniper bushes, flowers and a lovely old mule track which contoured around the mountain before the final descent into Villahermosa del Rio. Even saw some wildlife in the shape of circling eagle type things.

Villahermosa del Rio

Staying at the Hostal Ruta Aragon and will watch some of the replay between Real Madrid and Barcelona for the Copa del Rey which everyone is going nuts about here.

Saturday April 16th Chelva to Andilla

Not sure what happened to my first version of the diary entry for April the 16th, it literally went missing between sending it from my IPad and arriving as a blog. It left without leaving a trace and didn't turn up. Really annoying.

Anyway my birthday walk was a bit of a rushed affair as I wanted to make sure I arrived at Andilla before Christine who was flying out from the UK on the same day. Left Chelva at 7 in the morning and although it was starting to get light the sun had still to rise. Managed to get an early morning coffee and a piece of cake in a bar opposite the hotel.

Heading east out of Chelva early in the morning

My recollection of the walk now is that it was pleasant but not breathtaking. Long steady walk through a valley where the path varied from a forest trail to seriously overgrown. Seriously overgrown means scratched legs and slow progress as you keep loosing the route.

On an ancient camino near Caserio de Alcotas

The first major milestone was the little village of Caserio de Alcotas but there was nothing there to make you hang about. After dropping down a bit you walked along another overgrown valley path before emerging on a hill side which was overgrown with wind turbines. The wind had actually got up a bit and they were spinning around and creaking, can't say I'm a major fan, no pun intended.

Arrived at Andilla and it's twin village of La Pobletta at about 3.30, taking roughly 8 hours to cover the 28 kilometres. Andilla is a really nice little mountain town. For the first time on this trip I saw a large number of serious looking Spanish walkers who were eating lunch when I arrived. They had a good look at my ruck sack and footwear just to see if I meant business, I think I passed muster.

The church in Andilla

The casa rural I'm staying in is very close to the church which like most churches around chimes the time all night and does the hours twice. Sure I'll be used to it by the time I have left Spain.

Apart from my birthday and Christine's arrival the really big news is that I have worn out my first pair of walking shoes. The soles of the right shoe have completely split and there is a gash in the left shoe. Although they were showing other signs of wear and tear there was nothing as terminal as a split sole. My feet by the way are now totally acclimatised and pain free. I am absolutely sure that I made the right choice with as light as possible and I'm really pleased with the Inov8 Terrocs I've been wearing. For the record they lasted 47 days during which time I have walked around 1400 kilometres. The timing is perfect as Christine is bringing out another pair, same a before but not Gortex, given the weather I don't think they need to be waterproof and should be cooler.

Shoes on last legs

Sunday April 17th Andilla to Bejis

The final taxi leg of Christine's journey was a bit stressful yesterday, very hard to find anyone to go so far into mountains. As always, or nearly always, someone came up with a solution and an emotional Christine arrived at about 7 o'clock. Lesson for the future is to avoid such remote places for a meet up. Casa Muralla by the way was excellent, lovely room and provided an evening meal as well.

After a cloudy day yesterday it was sunny again today, a bit fresh but perfect for walking. The walk to Bejis was a scheduled 23 kilometres but with a detour we added an unplanned 6 kilometres plus a lot of extra climb.

The source of confusion was a marathon being run along parts of the GR7. Quite a tough run I would have thought, up and down some steep paths. Anyway some of the organisers helpfully sent us down the wrong route and I was so busy lecturing Christine about something, got a whole month of lecturing to catch up on, that I didn't check the route for about half an hour by which time we had climbed unnecessarily way up the mountain, going perilously close to Christine's first beehive gulag.

Marathon runners outside Andilla

First day out for Christine

Not the end of the world and we didn't make any more mistakes. It also means that whenever I'm in full rant about something Christine can break me off by saying "are we going the right way".

As well as the lovely clear weather I guess the highlight of the walk was the broom (could have been gorse) which was everywhere in full flower and smelling wonderful. Having come down from our unnecessary detour, which took us over 1300m, much of the walk was along the bottom of a valley which had a stream in it. At times the stream formed pools which looked perfect for some wild water swimming, just the slight chill in the air put us off from going in, honestly.

Swimming pools along the Rio Canales

The other highlight was a wonderful highly calorific birthday cake which Christine had bought all the way from the UK. Just the job, should last for least three days.

After going through a couple of pretty little villages, Arteas de Arriba and Arteas de Abajo, it was a contour walk to the ancient town of Bejis, another settlement defensively positioned on the side of a hill. Staying in the Hostal Restuarant El Pita which seems fine, although frustratingly no wifi.

When we arrived at 4.30pm the last Sunday lunchers were just finishing what looked like a splendid meal, and we sat and had a beer while the patron and his family cleared up the debris. There were huge jars of local honey on the bar which I have to confess sent shivers down my spine.

One of the things I was ranting about today was the difference between the UK and Spanish housing markets. Even in Bejis, really a village in UK terms (although as always much denser than in the UK) there is a large empty new block of flats on the edge. I'm trying to my head around the fact that the UK housing boom produced such a huge hike in prices but only limited increase in supply whereas here the boom generated a massive over supply.

Bejis

Christine adds:
It's good to see John looking so well. He's has clearly got into the rhythm of this thing and is very relaxed, enjoying every adventure.
Since I was last here the weather has got much better and the vegetation has completely changed. It's now true Mediterranean aromatic scrubland, maquis and garrigue I think tho I can't remember the difference. All I do know is wearing shorts carries the risk of very scratched legs by the end of the day.

Thursday 14th April Chera to Benageber

According to my GPS I did 54 kilometres and over 2000 metres of climb. As much as I would like to believe this I'm not sure if it can be true. I had the route down as 38 kilometres although I don't think that includes the bit at the beginning when you supposed to walk down the road from Chera to join the walk. It certainly didn't include my cock-ups.

I started very early. There was nothing to stay for in Chera and I was a bit worried about accommodation in Banageber and wanted to give myself time to find alternatives to sleeping rough. So I was on the road before seven with enough provisions to eat many times on the route.

My first cock-up was to attempt a short cut that would avoid repeating the road walk at the end of yesterday's trip and allow me to miss a huge concentration of bee hives. After about 30 minutes it became clear that my short cut was a long cut and I had to retrace my steps. The benefit of my early start was largely lost.

The bees of course were still asleep when I went past, it was a really nice morning and there were great views of the sandstone massif that towers over Chera. Then cock-up number two.

Bee hives near Chera

Pico Rope

To be fair it wasn't altogether my fault, I just followed the GR signs, if I had checked my GPS I would have discovered however that this was an example of more than one set of GR signs. It is confusing but there are definitely variants, usually to take you to a special feature and they are usually specifically signed. This unsigned variant was for people who wanted to practice their jungle warfare technique and went deeper and deeper into the undergrowth. I was able to follow the signs for about 30 minutes but then lost them so had to just bashed my way down to a road which led me to my GPS trail (hope your following this). Along the road the GR signs turned up again and by the time I got to the junction with the GPS trail there were GR signs coming from three directions.

So after such an early start it felt like I was well of the pace but from then the track was easy to walk on and I cracked along. Most of it was through trees and a bit dull but there was a section, low down and along a long gorge. There was water at the bottom and hundreds of frogs which, despite being very small were able to generate a huge noise with the cliffs of gorge acting like a sound box.

Wooded countryside on the way to Benageber

At about 12.45 I saw a sign saying Benageber 4 hours 45 minutes. Shortly after that I saw a group of people planting a field of potatoes by hand. They were just finishing to escape the heat but after my third lunch I pressed on.

Without the cock-ups I think of could have made Chelva, tomorrow's destination today, I could have put in a 12 hour shift and got there by 7. My range has definitely got longer since I started. As it was it was 4.30 when I went past the Chelva sign so it would have been 8 before I got there. It would also be a shame to rush as the scenery picked up again towards the end of the walk.

I was right to be nervous about Benageber accommodation. It's a very small town, only got two bars, and I couldn't find the place I had got listed. There was no one about. I wandered up the road towards a building that looked likely. It wasn't but there was a man there to ask. He pointed back towards the town but I had no idea whether he was pointing back to or beyond the town. Slightly encouraged I returned but still not really knowing where to look. Then behind me, on a scooter, the man I asked directions had arrived and then escorted me to two different places that do accommodation. The best was Bar Benageber which had apartments but of course nothing was happening for an hour until the bar opened. Twice the man came to make sure I was OK and in the end helped me with the discussions with the landlord. What a star.

As it is I'm really well set, great apartment and a good price particularly compared to the dump I was in last night.

April 11th and 12th Cortes de Pallas to Requena

Having a rest day in Requena, about 8 kilometres away from the GR7 for reasons which will become apparent, so a double day blog.

The two big news items, firstly an equipment failure and secondly an accommodation failure.

Walking is not exactly a technical sport so a bit of kit actually failing is very unusual and I suspect some will find it interesting. My water reservoir sprung a leak. The alternative name for a reservoir is a bladder but the idea of a leaking bladder is particularly unpleasant so I'm going to stick with reservoir. I know exactly how the leak came about and it's a clear design fault, really exciting, so I will have probably write a separate blog on it.

Anyway as I was leaving Cortes de Pallas the bottom of my back felt a bit damp. This has happened before, usually when the bag has been left on it's side, so I didn't worry. After about 10 minutes I decided to investigate and sure enough there was a leak.

What to do. It's a relatively busy road walk out of Cortes de Pallas, I didn't have anything I could put the water in and I reasoned it was slow enough not to matter. After about 35 minutes the do nothing option was becoming untenable,it was starting to look like I had a leaking bladder as well as a leaking reservoir, an impression reinforced by the underpants which were drying on the back of my backpack.

Leaking Bladder

Nothing to do but find an old bottle, put a chlorine tablet in it, drain the reservoir and change my clothes. Down to less than a litre of water but a half way stop on the route where I might be able to get more. I thought that was all the excitement I was going to have for the day.

My original schedule had involved walking all the way through to El Rebollar and then somehow getting to Requena which is where the nearest accommodation is. Christine Durrant thought she had found an auberge in Milares and had booked and paid for it in advance. They were going to refund me her costs when I got there.

Apart from the wet clothes the walk, despite being along a road for the first 5/6 kilometres, was interesting. This area has a lot of infrastructure, a nuclear power station, a reservoir at the bottom of the gorge and another one at the top, power cables everywhere.

Cooling Towers

After a while you leave the road and start the first climb up the side a very impressive gorge. Climbs are a feature of the walk and heading north I'm definitely crossing the grain of the landscape and will complete five climbs before I finish. The other feature is a lot of overgrown forest paths, difficult to follow despite good marking, the GPS is really useful. Just before I get to the top I see my first snake sunning itself on a rock. A light yellow or olive colour with black markings all along it's back - about a metre long.

Gorge to the north west of Cortes de Pallas

Ancient Cave Hose

It's a flat top for 2 or 3 kilometres and then down into the next valley. The restaurant at Venta Caeta is open so I stop for lunch at about 12.45. It was Sunday yesterday, I was on the road at 7.45 and have very little food on board.

Leaving the village the second climb goes to the top of the Col Rodona, again through a really thick forest trail, down the other side and then up again on the third climb. It's then a long and meandering descent on a much better trail down to what looks like a campsite but not yet open and with access to a road. It's now about five o'clock and I'm starting to look for Milares. Slightly worrying is a table of services at the campsite for the GR7 which doesn't mention Milares accommodation.

Worry not, after about 30 minutes a GR sign saying 45 minutes to Milares and an auberge. The GR route takes you on a complex route (ignoring the direct one along the road) and eventually I'm in Milares. It's about six houses, non have mains electricity and there is absolutely no one there. Having wandered around a bit I ring the number Christine Durrant gave me for the accommodation but no answer. I wander through the village and eventually find a sign to an auberge, find the auberge but it's long closed. It does however have a different name to the one Christine has booked so the evidence is not conclusive, although the chances of two auberges seem a bit remote.

Decide to go back to small village on the other side of Milares to see if the auberge is there. This place at least has mains electricity and dogs start to bark at me - life at least. At the end of the village there is some activity. As I get closer I see it's a man spraying the back of his small lorry with a high pressure hose. The lorry, would you believe it, has something to do with bees and the man is dressed in gear you associate with a nuclear disaster, I decide to leave him to it.

On the way back I see some elderly people with some sheep, they tell me where Milares is and tell me the auberge is closed. One final brain wave, I ring up Christine and John Durrant. Encouragingly they are confident that the auberge does exist, they had spoken to them yesterday, and they will SMS me the details. The connection is very bad.

I march back to Milares awaiting the SMS and determined to turn over every stone to find the auberge. My confidence starts to slip, no SMS and no auberge. I get back through to Christine by which time she had worked out the problem, the auberge is in Milanes, or somewhere with a slightly different spelling.

What to do?

I could either go back and throw myself on the mercy of the sheep people (who had not offered to help despite my predicament) or press on. I pressed on.

Climbing out of Milares

This is about 7.30. I didn't really know how far El Rebollar was but knew I would have to get there in good time to organise transport to Requena. Dusk is now arriving and it takes me just under 90 minutes to climb to the top of the pass. It's now dark, half moon, but the sign is clear enough, El Rebollar 3 hours. It's a small place and arriving there at midnight seemed a pretty desperate plan.

As it happens the walk was OK, the path was fairly clear, and it's amazing how much you can see with even a half moon. After another hour I arrived at a old cottage, which had a flat grassy area in front of it. I decided to put all my gear on and see if I could sleep. Flat, smooth surfaces by the way are very unusual around here, the standard surface is rock, or packed soil, covered with rocks.

I did nearly go to sleep but the forest is a noisy place at night what with the owls, larger things crashing through the trees and my stomach. At one point I was convinced that my stomach was sneaking up on me.

Eventually I was just too cold and had to walk just to warm up. This didn't take that long and I wanted to go to sleep again but no flat, remotely comfortable surface presented itself. I did sit on a rock for a bit and some animals came rushing past, had to be deer or possibly even boar.

Had to decide whether I wanted to hang around on the mountain or head into town. Didn't really know what the final approach to town was going to be like or indeed the reception I might get at this time of night from the Spanish dogs. Stayed on the mountain until 3 (found another flat place) and then headed down. Only one dog in El Rebollar and two on the outskirts of Requena. Not counting the roaming around the Milares conurbation, I had walked 50 kilometres.

Was in the centre by 5.30 and watched the town wake up. Two very heavy smokers with terrible coughs ejected from somewhere at 5.45, hospital workers changing shift at 6, the first bar open at 6.30 with the first drinkers in there almost immediately. I kill time with a couple of coffees and manage to get into Hotel Avenida by 7.45.

I had originally planned to do the whole thing in a day but always knew it would be a mega challenge and was pleased when Christine found an alternative. Christine's mistake was an easy one to make and I'm sure I will make similar ones before I'm finished. The particular issue with this stretch of the walk is that there just isn't any accommodation.

Sunday 10th April Casa de la Callado to Cortes de Pallas

After yesterday's bee attack, last night's all night disco and the loss of my walking companion (and lift back up the mountain), I needed a break and sure enough, bang to order, I got one.

Getting a taxi a eight o'clock in morning, even if you can explain where it is you need to get to, was always going to a challenge. In the bar, over a cafe con leche, the barman was as helpful as he could be but fortunately the conversation attracted the attention of one of the other customers. Trying to show him where I was going with my IPad was really difficult, took me ages to find the right maps and when I did he kept spinning it round and the maps of course wouldn't stay still. Eventually he worked it out, told me to get in his car and took all the way up the mountain, at least 20 kilometres. Unexpected gifts, particularly from strangers are the best.

My Guardian Angel

I walked back up the trail for about three kilometres to at least cover some of the ground I missed yesterday. It was then downhill to Cortes de Pallas, about 26 kilometres. The weather was exactly the same as yesterday, a little bit misty in the morning working up to be very hot.

The scenery and trail developed in tandem. Initially I was heading downhill and then on the flat and on a metalled road travelling through a fairly wide valley. Saw some deer (saw some later as well) which is the first time since Andulucia. The valley starts to narrow, you get closer to some really impressive sandstone cliffs and then your now on forest trail.

The valley has been running north to south and after about 18 kilometres joins another valley/gorge which is running west to east and you turn right round the mountain towards Cortes de Pallas. The scenery which had been steadily improving is now really dramatic. At the bottom the gorge is a long reservoir and on the other side is a hugh sandstone cliff. Sitting on top of one of the peaks along this cliff are the the ruins of a castle. To the south and into the sun are the highest cliffs I think I have seen so far on the GR7 higher even than the cliffs approaching Cazorla.

Long north-south running ridge

Cortes de Pallas Reservoir

Castillo de Chirel

Meanwhile the forest trail has turned into a forest path. Most of the time it's good albeit tough walking as the trail is close to the cliff and inevitably there are a lot of ups and downs. The shade is also welcome as it's now getting towards 30 degrees. The scenery is amazing. Gradually the trail gets more overgrown and you're ducking under all sorts of spiky things you collect more and more rubbish in your bag and down your neck.

Eventually the path propels you onto the road above Cortes de Pallas. Lots of bars and I order a large beer and the menu of the day. Have arrived 5 minutes before they stopped serving. Staying in the Hostal Casa Fortunata and no sign of a disco. By the way no bee consequences apart mild panic whenever I hear a buzz.

Friday 8th April Vallada to Casa Benali

Just to be absolutely clear I have no idea what's coming next, I have no more than a vague impression. To be honest the "taking each day as it comes attitude" is even more pronounced when you have someone else walking with you. Because they are slightly more worried about accommodation than you, they end sorting what is actually the only real challenge, finding somewhere to stay. All I have to do is walk and wait for whatever surprise the walk throws up.

As I mentioned yesterday I had formed a vague impression of what this stage of the E4 was going to be like, wide valleys and wide moorland like tops and was OK with it. Having crossed the wide valley in which Vallada sits, with a new motorway and, I guess, a new high speed rail line at the bottom, the route took us into a gorge. The gorge which was gentle at first, soon became the most dramatic I walked along so far on the E4.

I'm still trying to work out what the gorge is a called but we started going through it about 9.15 and it wasn't until 12.30 that we the route climbed us out of it. Because it meandered the views were literally changing every 20 or 30 metres, particularly as sometimes you walked along the very bottom of the gorge and sometimes a little way up along the side.

Borranc de Bocquilla

Borranc de Bocquilla

Great shapes climbing out the gorge

As well as the gorge the other feature of the day was the heat. To be honest, despite the constantly changing views the climb out of the gorge was a bit of a relief, the heat had started to make it feel claustrophobic. Up higher at about 700 metres there was a bit of breeze but no shade at all. We did find a restored refugio to have lunch in but there was still a lot of walking to do.

Worth mentioning, given that I have moaned about road walking, that this is now a distant memory. In Murcia, but particularly in Valencia, the GR7 has been as off-road as you could hope for. In fact today, as I ploughed through endless waist high rosemary bushes, prickly scrub oaks and other unnamed exfoliators I started to think dream of a nice bit of metalled road.

So today's walk was 29 kilometres and involved a climb of 1100 metres. At about 26 kilometres we were at the bottom of the valley, out of water, with another three hundred metres to climb. This was a blow but we still managed to get to the top and find the road and ring for a taxi which we hoped we would be waiting for the call and would respond immediately. Nearly but not quite, he was on another job and would be at least an hour. We sat under a small tree, very thirsty, but with no options. Then heaven sent, a man turns up on a motorbike, a man in a uniform with lots of impressive badges but not a policeman. After a quick diagnosis of our situation he decides to ring the taxi driver to instruct him to get to us faster. He can't get through, no signal on his batphone. Instead this superhero shoots off down the road on his motorbike and comes back with a full bottle of chilled water. Barely giving us time to express thanks he shot off to do someone else a good turn. I'm in love with the Spanish.

Superman

Actually the taxi driver was a nice guy as well, wonderful chilled black Mercedes, which told us that, at 5 o'clock the outside temperature was 30 degrees. The taxi driver took us 20 kilometres down the road to Engura, there is nowhere to stay on the trail, and will take us back again tomorrow.

By the way, last night I did the numbers, I have now done 1,000 kilometres, only 4,000 left.

Sunday 3rd April Pinosa to Elba

Today's walk was 26 kilometres in overcast, warm and humid conditions, often on roads through countryside which was not very memorable I'm afraid. Not exactly inspirational.

The presence of British immigrants in Spain, evident for the first time yesterday on the approach to Pinosa, becomes increasingly apparent towards Elba. Two characteristics seem to distinguish them from the Spanish: firstly a love of gardens, which are often huge; and, secondly a willingness to pour money into old rotting buildings. There are huge numbers of wonderful old farmsteads all ready for the Grand Design treatment and as you get closer to the bits of Spain where the British congregate than these buildings start to get rescued.

Abandoned "finca"

Apart from the weather being a bit more overcast it was a very similar walk to yesterday's, a gentle climb up out of Pinosa, a short descent and a walk across a wide cultivated valley, another gentle climb and then a long descent into Elba.

At the beginning of the walk across the valley you go through the pretty village of Casas del Senyor. Particularly interesting were the chimneys which emerged at street level from the houses in the terrace below and, later on, the beautiful aqueduct, which I guess dates back to the time of Moors.

Walking on the roof

Moorish Aquaduct in Casas del Senyor 

This dry landscape gets particularly ugly as you approach towns and was especially ugly during the final walk to Elba. The abandoned terraced fields, extensive fly tipping and the municipal tip made everything look completely unloved. Amongst all this, and with an impressive gate, sat Elba's cemetery, already big but with scope for significant expansion.

Huge gate to the crematorium near Elba

Elba by the way is the largest town I have been to so far, a population of over 45,000, and the Spanish centre for the manufacture of shoes.

With a Spanish resident as a walking companion and I'm getting my eye in for signs of the recession. I now understand the difference between the "for sale" sign for property which is being sold in the standard way and a property which has been repossessed by the banks and is subject to a forced sale. You can get very good financing terms with a forced sale. If I needed any further evidence of the immediacy of the recession I got it when I arrived at the hotel which had been booked only a few days ago but had now closed.

Signs of collapsed housing market everywhere