We left Rabanal at approximately 7.30am, rugged up to the nines, as it was quite ‘brisk’ being as we were in the Catalonian Mountains. The ascent to the top was tough in parts, over a distance of around 7 or 8 kilometres, but the view was simply magnificent. There were snow topped mountains in the distance, but as it is early Spring here, there were beautiful wildflowers and heather, in colours of purple, pink, blue yellow and white. I’d always loved the movie ‘Heidi’ when I was a little girl, so I was in my element! While we have a few other mountains to climb, literally as well as figuratively, this was the highest and I was managing well. On the way, we stopped in Foncebadón, which was little more than a cluster of ramshackle buildings, now set up as alberques for pilgrims on their way to Santiago, plus 2 small cafes. It was good to stop for a few minutes, have a bit of a breather and meet some other walkers, in this case it was a young guy from South Africa, another from Germany, and one also from Ireland. We’ve found that often those from countries close by are only walking for a few days, without the intention of making it to Santiago in one go. It makes sense really, as they have the opportunity to fly to Spain relatively cheaply several times a year if they want to, and do the Camino in stages. The Iron Cross (Cruz Ferro) was on this part of our walk. It is customary to leave a rock at the base of the cross, to indicate leaving a past or present burden. As well, as it was my brother Anthony’s birthday that day, I also left a rock for him there, that I had collected from the beach in South Australia.  Anthony died way too early from Melanoma cancer and I wanted to remember him there.  Kate too, carried a remembrance of her much loved brother, Michael, also no longer with us. It was an emotional time.

At Manjarin, we stopped briefly at the home and cafe of an eccentric man, dressed as a Laurence of Arabia, who was giving a blessing to the pilgrims. It’s a remote and bleak area, so you have to take your hat off to him, to live there, but I guess he has pilgrim visitors everyday, so maybe that suffices. Why the Arab outfit, well that remains unclear, but I have the feeling it was not an uncommon occurrence. Each to their own….

Of course, what goes up, must come down…and it’s here that the ‘Highway to Hell’ reference became clear.

The descent to our next destination of Molinaseca was 18klms of very steep, dry, rocky water courses. To say it was difficult is a huge understatement and because we had to pick our footing carefully, it took Kate and I approximately 6 or 7 hours just to navigate that section. It was very hot, it was physically taxing and it was a huge relief to get to the bottom. I kissed the sign indicating Molinaseca, when we eventually found it, so happy were we to have made it. We were both almost comatosed with exhaustion. To add insult to injury, the bridge leading into Molinaseca, while very picturesque, was paved with stone so, as you might imagine, some very unpilgrimesque words just may have escaped our mouths! Our accomodation here was in a lovely, modern, boutique hotel and we collapsed in a heap on our extremely comfortable beds as soon as we walked in the door. Up went the feet on the wall to deter cramps and we gave ourselves a high five, for managing to make it not only without injury, but with our friendship intact. After hot showers and a change of clothes, we had dinner at an outdoor restaurant, overlooking the river. It was a welcome relief from the obstacle course that had dominated what had been a memorable day.

PS. Blisters are still present, but are improving. Head cold has become a chest infection, but fortunately the girl guide in me packed antibiotics… Onwards we go!