Day 7 Friday 6th May - Rabanal del Camino to El Acebo

Although we're only doing 11 miles, today was going to be a tough one with muchas "uppy downy*". With 23° forecast, it was a case of get up, and get onto it early. With an initial climb of 1300 feet over 6k it was important to get that done before the heat kicked in. And so, at the ungodly hour of 0715 your correspondent set off with a buoyant and jaunty stride. And no, I wasn't mincing, before ask such a ridiculous question (you know who you are!!). Unfortunately, my faithful bag carrier and medical adviser had not slept so well**, therefore plodded with a style that a 15 year old going to school would be proud of. At this point, I think it would be only right to mention an excellent role model of this style - none other than Lara "I'll be late to school everyday, because assembly is utterly pointless" Norridge.


Anyway, Mrs N slowly came to, and found some rhythm as we continued upwards, heading for our crossing over the Montes de León (Mountains of León, obv's). It being so early, the air was cool and fresh as the sun rose slowly behind us. The strongly contrasted colours were magnificent, and the calls of Cuckoo's constant. For Mrs N, the Cuckoo's are her wonderful Mum calling and checking on her. Poignant.



And so after about 75 minutes we arrived at the remote mountainside village of Foncebadón. Or as I prefer to call it, "Fonz-is-a-bad-'un". And what better music to arrive to than Iggy Pop's "Lust For Life" blasting out from our rest stop. After the standard Caffe con leche and zuma de naranja (orange juice) things looked up. Cate applied some medical dressing things to her thighs and emerged Wonder Woman-like from the loo with a renewed zest. She didn't, however, go as far as wearing her undies on the outside!




On we went, still climbing. We then came upon a significant Camino landmark, Cruz de Ferro. This 30 feet high pole with a small cross on its top marks the highest point (1505m, or for the elderly readers, 4937 feet) of the whole 800km Camino journey. It's also a place where literally 1000's of pilgrim's have left stones with handwritten messages on them. Clearly a place of great import and emotion for many. It was deeply poignant to see people praying, crying and in deep contemplation. In a masterclass of decorum, I chose not to start wailing about the recent death of our legendary House Rabbit - The Great King J. But I did think about the wondrous little fluffball, of course.




Now, the profile view of the contours on today's walk look like, ........well there's no easy way of saying this......a pair of breasts. Or for the Oxfordshire readership, Wittenham Clumps; a place that is very dear to my heart allegedly! So that meant going downhill slightly, with a bit on the flat before rising again to near another peak, Alto Altar Mayor. (See pic below) This is where the path gets seriously rocky and unpleasant to walk on. Hardly erogenous!



The madhouse of Albergue Tomasz - putting the "rust" into rustic!



On a positive note, our destination, the magnificently named El Acebo was only 3k away. However, it was a descent of 1600 feet down the worst paths we'd encountered this time around. Shades of our very first day, 3 years ago. Concentration levels up on full power as we rode the scree. So into El Acebo, shooters at the ready for a repeat of yesterday's Cowboy action. What a wonderful little place. Just one street of approximately 300 metres. Beautiful balconies on the houses either side,  some in abject disrepair, and some absolutely superbly restored to their original glory.



At the very far end of the village was our expected "half-built Algerian ruin"***.  Along the way today we'd seen signs touting it as the best Albergue on the whole Camino, so expectation rose. And it was to be a bitter sweet arrival. It turned out be a very tasteful, very new building, with all mod cons; terraces, bars, a spa etc.



The room was big, air-conditioned, and located under the terrace by the heavily advertised swimming pool. But that, dear readers, is where the "bitter" comes in. The bloody pool hadn't opened as "it isn't summer" yet. Well Miguel and Maria it damn well felt summer to me. Stick a bit of cold water in, and we'll do our very best Wim Hof breathing and roaring to get in it. So that is it for today. I'm off to pen letters to King Juan Carlos, The Lead Singer of Echo & The Bunnymen**** and other fascists, including Boris the Nazi.

Ps. Awesome sunset from our mountainside residence. Pics below.










* a phrase often used by "Baby La" our charismatic 2nd born; aka "The Charisma"

** she clearly hadn't read page 2, para 3 of the instruction booklet. In particular, the line "pain and vino make the camino". Where it recommends over indulging in the Vino Tinto to a) anaesthetise the throbbing feet, and b) ensure a good night's sleep. Schoolgirl error!

*** we all love a Monty Python reference don't we?

**** and we love a Rik Mayal, Young One's reference even more. Talking of which. Worlds biggest bottom burp? Nodge, Great Britain!





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