So this morning I left Madrid to connect with the walk; the Olvidado, the Forgotten Path. It was the name that first attracted me.

Forgetting and remembering is what happens with age. Remembering what has been long forgotten, or ignored, in the charge through life. Walking allows one to go back and review, like a film trailer. Fragments of the past start to connect and a route of sorts emerges .

So what of these first few familiarising days in Madrid ? Looking through lots of windows: our hostal, a few bars facing different streets, the eye of the phone as I frame a picture .

Yes it’s a different culture, an unfamiliar language, and one is forced to really see each object that has been so familiar at home : rooms and beds , food, streetscape, people. Even keys operate differently here. Still the same struggle to open doors that I recall from earlier Spain visits. And always a room is on the third floor with a winding dark staircase to navigate .

So I’m wondering what will trip me up here. Metaphorically and literally: walking a new path with just a pack , a compadre, and a rough idea of the path. How fit am I? Will I trip ? Lots of other questions , Maybe, maybe there will be some answers .