A full breakfast to start the day but still not much room for it after last night. Our restaurant offered not only the usual fare but had an entire gluten free section. How could I not enjoy?
Don't tell anyone but I left there with pockets full of gluten free cookies for the road.
The guys were waiting on me this time to be ready but not for long... we hit the beach and started our walk for the day through the countryside. We separated quickly but this time I was at the back of the bus. I think the steak from last night was still weighing me down.
We were surrounded by trees and green fields for about the first 7kms so I took the time to walk and write but only until the town of Vega. I loved this little town from the start. Coming down a lane from up high I could see the ocean and its waves in the distance.
The town was quiet. Not a sound. The lane was narrow and all the structures very old but maintained. Flowers sat in boxes in the windows and crisp white linens hung from clotheslines. Then I saw the church. Only big enough to house maybe 6 small pews. The door was locked but when I looked up, I saw my Grandmother's name.
As I continued on, with the guys way ahead of me, I noticed the artwork. Someone had painting scenes of farm life on the buildings creating the illusion of windows and tunnels and it was so beautiful and creative.
A few more steps to the beach and a beauty it was.
I saw a random girl and she exuded zen. Her loose clothes, her messy bun and the way she stood calmy watching the waves. This may be one of my favourite images.
As I turned away from the beach and started to climb, I heard a familiar voice. It was Harold. He missed the turn at the beach and followed the beach trail to a dead end and had to backtrack. It was understandable. Once your eyes lock in to the beauty of the waves it's easy to not notice everything else. So we headed up the trail together into the green hills and woods, all the while with a view of the sea on our right side.
We eventually caught up to Jorge but only because he waited for us at the one and only bar enroute.
The big excitement was, they actually had gluten free homemade desserts. Of course I had a piece of the gf cake and a much needed coffee.
We carried on and it just kept getting more and more beautiful. With every hill and every beach was another spot to stop and stare in awe. And after a day without a sighting (first time since we started) we saw none other than Bernard!! Our French friend that passes us no matter where or when we start.
When we reached the last beach before turning inland for the last 5 kms, we stopped for a cold drink and the guys split a pizza that they claimed tasted crappy. It was probably all that nasty gluten. I had some chips and wine.
Jorge put his jets on and made it to town where he had to sit and wait for us. I made it to my beautiful hotel which Jorge unknowingly walked right past. Unfortunately their wifi didn't work so since I couldn't message my friends, I had to hit the main street to find them (easy to find them at the nearest bar haha)
We had our daily discussion of where they would book a room and it ended up being the same place as me.
I kept going on about how beautiful it was, the delightful patio, the artwork, the elegant and eclectic decor and the stone interior walls.
They loved it too. Jorge and I had drinks on the patio while the hostess washed our laundry and then we went out for a light meal at a local tavern. Harold met us for dinner and a nightcap. Jorge finally ordered the local cider and of course shared it with us. It smelled and tasted like the nasty fermenting apples in the farm fields mixed with manure that had cooked in the sun all day. Not a big fan. None of us liked it. Sorry Spain 😘
We all headed back to our hotel for the night. Not sure about those 2 snore engines but I had the best sleep ever. Most comfortable bed so far and not a sound was heard for the entire night. No church bells, no parties in the street, no traffic... just the sound of silence.
xx
Sent from my Galaxy
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